One evening, I was running a little late, so I quietly found an open corner in the front of the darkened room for my mat. When the lights were turned on after savasana, I discovered that my younger daughter -- who hadn't spoken to me for over a year -- had attended the same yoga class in the back row!
In shock, I approached her. She ignored me altogether, collected her things without a word, and walked away, refusing to make eye contact. I was crushed. I texted her after she left, to which she replied that I was merely her "birth mother" and meant nothing further to her. Ouch.
While she was certainly not the first angry teenager to make a harsh declaration along those lines, her words were sadly symbolic of how my role as a parent had been completely eroded by alienation.
Not only did I have no parenting time, contact or updates about what was going on in my girls' lives, there was also no way to listen to their daily ups and downs or offer guidance, support, advice and perspective. I couldn't say yes or no to any decision or activity. I didn't even know what those events might be.
I had no voice. No function. No role.
I wasn't notified when my daughter took a fall off of a horse that fractured a vertebra. I hadn't been told that she was taking riding lessons in the first place, who the instructor might be, or where the stables were located. I couldn't check on how she was feeling, express my concerns about the type of painkillers prescribed, or push for the diagnostic imaging early on.
I also didn't know when my older daughter graduated a year early from high school. I couldn't hug her and tell her how proud I was of her or take her out to dinner to celebrate her accomplishment. I couldn't express how impressed I was that she had accepted a full-time contract with a professional ballet company at the tender age of seventeen.
Mother had become a painfully empty, meaningless title. Allow me to be blunt: Being a parent at this point was dismal and depressing. At best.
I managed to find a few ways to funnel my restless parenting instincts:
- Dialogue -- I talked aloud to my kids -- even though they weren't there -- usually when I was driving in my car, alone. I would express that I missed them, share stories about what life was like when I was their ages, muse about current events that I imagined might be impacting their lives. This helped me process my thoughts and feel like a parent for a moment or two. And, I felt I was sending them my love from a distance.
- Borrow -- I spent time with my friend's kids, as I could manage it. This was a bittersweet experience. At times, it was a great distraction to go trick-or-treating, play at the park, or attend birthday parties with rambunctious little ones. At other times, it would smoosh me emotionally to attend a baby shower.
- Journal -- I found it helpful to dump my emotions and thoughts onto paper and release them by destroying my writings later. Some parents create journals of advice with the intent of giving them to their child when they return and the time is right. I love this idea, but would caution you to make any content for your kids positive and non-accusatory.
After the yoga class that night, I met up with some old friends who were familiar with my alienation. I shared my difficult experience with them, but they had an enlightening perspective. They concluded that my daughter likely came to this particular yoga class on purpose, knowing it was a class I attended regularly.
Oh. Even though it was a seemingly negative, hurtful interaction, it was actually a covert act of reaching out on her behalf. One that was safe, given her situation.
Parental alienation is ugly, unnatural, damaging, and just plain wrong. If you are being extensively alienated from your child's life, you very well may have little to no active role for the time being. Your child's attempts at contact with you might look like the opposite.
But, once a parent, always a parent. Your child still needs you. No one said parenting was going to be easy. You just happen to need to develop ninja-level skills. Find ways to keep whatever connection you can, while also developing and growing as a person.
At the very least, you can demonstrate that a person can thrive despite being outside of the alienating parent's team. You can show loyalty, resilience, and longevity. You can exhibit patience, unconditional love, and healthy boundaries. Healing and developing yourself increases the chance of your child reconnecting with you one day.
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