Author
and former non-custodial mom, Waneta Dawn, wrote the comment below on
one of my blog posts. Any Christian who is interested in responding to
domestic abuse or domestic /violence compassionately and biblically,
needs a basic understanding of the family issues that could be involved.
Below, is a slightly edited version of Waneta's story. to read her
entire comment, go to the "GOOD MOTHERS DON'T LOSE CUSTODY," post on the
Dorcas Network blog:
Jocelyn,
Thank-you
for this opportunity to share some of the support needs a non-custodial
parent has. In my case, the judge awarded my daughter to her dad--the
man who abused me, and only allowed me every other week-end, 2 weeks in
the summer, and approximately 1/3 of holidays, although it was called
1/2. They didn't count minor holidays, and the court document frequently
allowed me to have her 4 days during the Christmas holidays, while
giving my ex the remaining 10 days. I was allowed one day every other
year at Thanksgiving, while my ex got the other day one year and both
days the next year. I was allowed no visitation on no-school days that
were not connected to a holiday. I was not allowed any mid-week
visitation, unless my ex chose to allow it. Far too often he would tell
us we could have a particular mid-week evening together, and then when I
went to pick her up, would deny us that time. We never knew if we would
actually get to have time together.
I
share these details so that you will understand how this impacts a
child of divorced parents going to sleep-overs, birthday parties, church
functions--especially all night ones.
If
the event occurred on my weekend, I often did not allow her to go, and
people did not support me in that, and pressured me to let her go to
their events. They did not seem to understand the yearning, the longing
in my heart to be with my daughter and to parent her (her dad chose a
"sugar-daddy combined with neglect" style of parenting, and I had a huge
responsibility to try to compensate so that my daughter could succeed
in school and in life. She needed MORE than those four days a month with
me, not less.
A
night of fun with friends cannot possibly make up for a lack of quality
parenting. May I comment here that I'm not sure why people seem
inclined to offer what appears to be genuine caring at special events,
but the rest of the time behave as if we are too undesirable to
socialize with. The double message is very confusing, and I'm more
inclined to believe the week-to-week message than the special occasion
one.
Even
if her dad had been the perfect father, I still would have wanted those
4 days a month with my child. (that's 26 fewer days than other parents
have with their children!)
I
understand most parents see their children every day, and may welcome
an evening of freedom from that responsibility. In my case, my daughter
desperately NEEDED me and I desperately needed and wanted time with her.
To deny her yet another day would have been neglectful and would have
suggested to her that I really didn't want her--a message her dad was
already telling her. To deal with this issue, I often asked to be
allowed to be present and/or to help out at birthday parties. If they
were all-night ones we often chose not to stay the night. In addition,
if my daughter went to a sleep over (even if I was present at the sleep
over) the next day she would spend a large portion of the time sleeping.
That meant I would essentially lose BOTH days of my weekend, and I may
not be allowed to see her or speak to her again for 12 long days. Her
dad often refused to allow telephone or any other contact between us,
too. This was so painful, for awhile I visited her at school when my
work permitted.
I
so appreciated the comment one woman made to me. I don't recall the
exact words, but I do recall the feeling of being 100% understood and
supported. She said she tried to imagine what it would be like to not be
allowed to be with her children, to be a part of their lives and parent
them every day, and that the thought was so horrid to her, she felt
sure she would be devastated and barely able to handle it if her
children were kept from her. It was very difficult to even think
about--the thought was so painful.
Another
place support is needed is when the single mom needs people to be open
with, people who will listen to her pain and grief and genuinely CARE. I
admit I'm a talker. I lived alone, I worked alone. I had no human being
to talk to most of the time. It was painful at church when people
wanted to limit our conversations to the 30 second variety of "hi, great
weather, bye." And then they went home to their husbands and children,
and I went home alone--again.
Suggestions
that I go to a counselor felt like a slap in the face. It felt like
they were saying I was unimportant, unwanted, that I needed to PAY
someone to take the time to listen to me, to share my pain. I did try
the counselor route, and it did not help. It only made the pain of my
loneliness and my longing for my daughter all the more raw. It
highlighted the lack of genuine caring of those around me.
Another
source of pain was that they never called me to ask how I was, how my
week was going. I had to call them. They usually talked to me, but also
excused themselves if their children came home from school, if their
husband was home from work, whatever. I finally understood that they
really did not want to talk to me, and I tried very hard to stop
calling, in spite of my huge need for emotional support. (When I didn't
get support for a week or so, I tended to get very stressed, which
resulted panic attacks.) No one called or made an effort to keep up the
relationship. I guess I was seen as too needy, perhaps as someone who
"sucked the life out of them."
I
started keeping my mouth shut. With God's help I carried the burden
alone, deciding it must be too much for people to handle. I thought
perhaps they wanted me to help them carry their burdens, even though I
was dealing with a super-full load of major trauma myself. But keeping
mum about my situation. Asking them about theirs didn't result in close
or long-term friendships, either.
Even
if I was successful at laying aside my own grief and pain, I still had
no trust-worthy spouse to consult about parenting, about my daughter's
needs. Although some women did listen to me, I often got the sense from
their suggestions that they didn't understand.
In
addition, my daughter needed one or two men to step forward and model
for her what a respectful, loving dad was like, but men (and their
wives) shied away from that, too. I didn't want to leave her alone with a
man, I just thought if perhaps a family would include the two of us in
their family time at least once a month, and allow my daughter to be
their daughter, too, that could meet her need to see real manhood in
action. But that didn't happen, either. It took a school teacher,
secular and bordering on atheist, to show her what a father-figure is
like.
I
lived like that for 8 years, trying different churches, looking for a
place to fit in, especially for the support my daughter needed.
When
she was nearly 15, my daughter came to live with me, but then went to
see her dad every other weekend. For a long time the pain of being
allowed to see her so seldom and never knowing if I could see her even
on court-mandated times, made me unwilling to part with her for sleep
overs, etc. Indeed, I had to parent very carefully, making sure I did
not demand too much, because that could send her back to living with her
dad. So my daughter has not been raised like your children have.
For
8 years she lived with a man who did not teach her discipline, yet
expected her to be able to handle adult skills. When she came to live
with me when she was in 9th grade, the focus for the first 4 years was
to help her develop the discipline, study and communication skills, to
succeed in school.
Now
that she's in college, that is still the focus. I can't expect her to
help around the house much, since school is hard for her--frequently
from her poor choices in time management--which is a throwback to her
days with her sugar-daddy. What I'm trying to say is that the traits you
don't like in children who are from single-parent homes, may not be
from the mother's inadequate parenting, or just because they are from a
"broken home." It may be because of the threats, nastiness, and traumas
the abuser in their lives continues to use to maintain power over his
ex-wife.
Asking
a non-custodial mom what you can do to help is key. Be willing to
discuss and help Mom figure out what she needs. Please, don't appear to
listen, but be mentally elsewhere. It is very frustrating to have to
repeat what you've said, yet to be blamed for your much speaking.
If
the Mother lost primary physical care and only sees her child(ren) a
limited number of days, don't pressure Mom to allow you to act as "big
brother" or "big sister" by taking the child to a movie or other fun
stuff so Mom has more time away from her child(ren). Neither Mom nor
children need more time away from one another. They have plenty of
apart-time as it is. Whatever you offer for the child(ren) offer to
include Mom, too.
~~
Closing comment from Jocelyn:
I have spoken with Waneta Dawn, and found she is delightful to visit with. On
the other hand, I have spoken with non-custodial moms who were so
traumatized by what was happening in their lives that we were
hard-pressed to carry on a coherent conversation. The first time that
happened, I just wanted to get off the phone and away from the
distraught woman on the other end of the line. I thought she was an
absolute nut case and in need of serious psychiatric help--which by that
time, she may have been. But it was in the midst of that first chaotic
conversation with a non-custodial parent, that the Holy Spirit quietly
spoke to my heart and said, "Listen."
So,
rather than finding a convenient excuse to hang up the phone--which was
exactly what I wanted to do--I listened. And in spite of the chaotic
words spilling from the non-custodial mother's mouth, I began to hear
her heart. And the heart I heard was full of pain and unspeakable
anguish.
Church,
we gotta step up to the plate. The Bible says we rejoice with those who
rejoice and we weep with those who weep. Sometimes all we can do is
weep with a brother or sister who has lost children to an unjust legal
system. Let's don't shy away from that privilege, but let's realize,
that sometimes we can do more.
Thank
you Waneta for being so transparent in telling your story, for giving
us a peek into a life most of us have no comprehension of, and most of
all, for suggesting ways we can get involved and truly help.
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