Is it still Mother's Day without my child?

Hands down, this holiday was the hardest of days for me to endure while alienated from my daughters. 

It took significant effort just to breathe. For moms missing their children, Mother's Day delivers unbearable cruelty.

Perhaps, you may be fortunate enough to have a few awkward, stiff moments with your child. Perhaps, there may simply be a silent, cavernous void -- no call, no visit, no contact at all. Perhaps, you may even witness a replacement figure enthusiastically celebrated in your place on social media.

This lovely, spring day meant to bestow honor and joy can become viciously excruciating and humiliating in a highly public manner for an alienated mother. It would be irresponsible of me to sugarcoat or minimize this agony.

If you are an alienated mother, I urge you to make a survival plan ahead of time -- STAT. 

Your most important task is getting through the holiday weekend, safe and sound. You CAN do this.

Find a quiet space or a safe person and plan out what you need to cope.

If you need to surround yourself with supportive people, reach out to them now. If you need to be alone and cry all day, cancel all activities and stock up on tissues. Go for a long drive or head out of town. Sit in a movie theatre all day. Climb a mountain. 

Do whatever will help you move through your pain to get to the next day.

Just be sure to select a strategy that doesn't move you backwards. Steer clear of overspending, risky substance use, dangerous situations, or making major or permanent decisions of any kind. 

You want to shelter in place, not lose ground or jeopardize the possibility of reconnecting with your child. Above all, do not punish yourself, internally or otherwise.

You may be stripped of your parenting role at this moment, but you are -- and will always be -- a  mother. 

Right now, being a good, strong mom means preserving your own well being so you can be there for your child in the future.

Know that you will be in my heart especially on this day.

How Endurance Can Lead to Overwhelm

Yesterday, I lost my sh*t. 

As in, full melt-down mode, reminiscent of my ol' days of alienation. Right up there with what I described in my previous article The Art of  Falling Apart.

Before I continue, I want to be clear that my intent is NOT to compare my current drama with being unable to see my kids. There simply is no comparison to that agony. 

My intent is to discuss the dynamics of sheer overwhelm, especially when it involves factors beyond your control, like with alienation. 

Alienated parents are frequently among the most diligent, hard-working people and are driven to tirelessly search for solutions, resist complaining, and push through the pain. There can be moments when this dedication alone simply isn't enough, and this "failure" to hold it all together can be immensely distressing.

Admittedly, the past few months have been challenging for me. Here are a few of the stressors that I have been dealing with:

• My dad has Alzheimer's and his condition is noticeably deteriorating, as expected.
• I've had major employment changes and launched a new business venture recently.
• I have a genetic, connective tissue disorder that causes an array of health problems that are amplified by stress. Some painful, some debilitating, some annoying. All more static to deal with.
• The holidays. No further remark needed.
• Omicron. No further remark needed.
• Ringing in the New Year with a brief, but amazingly dramatic, bout of food poisoning that caused me to miss celebrating my kid's birthday.

Oh. My Goodness. That's a lot.

But, here's the thing: I was pushing so dang hard to work through all of this, to stay positive, and to find solutions that I completely lost sight of the ENORMOUS collective weight that had accumulated on my shoulders.

I didn't want to -- perhaps could not -- face the sum total. My entire focus was on fighting the good fight, forging ahead, and keeping my chin up. I didn't allow room for just being human.

Yet, we are human. It is 100% normal to have limits.

I have little to no control over all of these factors. Sure, I can do my best to problem solve and mitigate, but I can't change these things directly. I can only navigate them and manage the impact. And, take good care of myself along the way.

I dropped the ball on that last one. I think I know why.

On an underlying level, I was -- I am -- scared. I'm scared of incrementally, tragically losing my father. I'm scared of the breath-taking risk and vulnerability of embarking into new professional territory. I'm scared of the impact of my own health issues.  

Fear has its purpose. It can help us pay attention and it can be a tremendous motivator, but only momentarily. When it does not let up, fear results in bone-deep exhaustion, skewed perspective, and anxiety.

Alienation dynamics are steeped in fear and trauma. As an alienated parent, you must have a plan to take care of yourself along the way. When the pressure mounts, intentionally increase restorative measures. 

Even simple things can make a difference, such as:

• Go outside. Fresh air and sunshine heal the body and mind and fill the soul.
• Set up a soothing environment as much as you can, paying attention to background music, lighting, and room temperature.
• Move. Physical movement increases blood flow and is known to improve mood. No need to make this overly complicated. Even stretching or taking a walk can be helpful.
• Listen to interesting or supportive podcasts. Auditory input can be a low-stress, low-effort way to plug in helpful information, distract, or improve mental outlook. Brené Brown is a current favorite of mine.
• Set a timer to check in with yourself throughout the day. Being consumed with stress can make you disconnect from basic things you need, like drinking water, breathing deeply, or eating regular meals.

Also, consider ongoing counseling if that is accessible for you. Enduring alienation is not something to bear alone, especially when it stretches out over years.

Take just a few minutes right now to evaluate whether you have been taking sufficient care of yourself lately. Close your eyes, settle, and take a few deep breaths. If you are feeling depleted, schedule some restorative actions in your day. I recommend actually putting reminder alerts in your phone.

I hope this coming year brings progress and healing to you all.

The Challenge of Childless Parenting

During my alienation, I leaned into my yoga practice to help me cope with the ongoing trauma and to develop the mental and emotional discipline I needed to navigate the chaos. It wasn't unusual to find me at yoga class after work.

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.

Navigate the mayhem with The Four Agreements

Many years ago, I discovered a marvelous little book entitled The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom by Don Miguel Ruiz on a relative's bookshelf.

Later, when I was submerged in the depths of alienation, it occurred to me that those four basic tenets were helpful tools with navigating through overwhelming confusion and frustration. As it turns out, the approach is useful for any situation dealing with a narcissist or other difficult person.

If you have not read The Four Agreements, have no fear. The concepts are simple and straightforward. (Here is an 11-minute video by Clark Kegley covering the main points of the book if you are interested in a brief summary.)

#1: Be impeccable with your word.

If there ever was a time to be mindful of what you say (or write or dwell on!), this would be it. Your well-being and your relationship with your child may depend upon it.

The potential cost of saying something you might regret is excruciatingly high, so it is worth slowing down and thinking things through before you reply to upsetting news or information. You may not be creating the chaos, but you do have control over how you respond to it.

Your words are subjected to harsh criticism and manipulation, so be sure that everything you say is with integrity and truth. No, you can't stop your words from being distorted, but you don't need to volunteer material that can be used against you, either.

Provide concise, relevant, factual information as required, but don't include unnecessary personal details or emotion. Realize that your ex may share your emails or discussions with your child, even if the content is not appropriate. I recommend communicating with your ex in writing via email as exclusively as possible. Texts can be ignored and verbal conversations are easily misconstrued.

If you need to vent about your ex or your frustration overall, pick a trusted friend who respects your confidentiality and won't share you emotional release further. You can also write out your anguish (and promptly destroy it) or talk through your emotions aloud when you are alone. I did a lot of vocal self-expression during my daily commute to work in the privacy of my car!

Direct your words -- to yourself and other people -- in support your goal. So many things about parental alienation are undeniably unfair, wrong, harmful, scary, and infuriating! Find appropriate ways to release your anger regularly, but do not allow yourself to remain in an agitated state or continually repeat your story.

Ruminating doesn't allow you to make progress. Continue to develop as a person. Not only does this make you stronger, it also increases your chances of reconnecting with your child.

#2: Don't take anything personally.

What could feel more personal than being rejected by your own child?

I didn't say this part was easy, but it essential. Parental alienation results from the behaviors of the alienating parent (or other influential caretaking adult). Not you! 

I repeat, if you are an alienated parent, the madness isn't actually about YOU. You just happen to be the target.

Your child's anger towards you is a survival technique for him or her. Your child has been wrongfully convinced that you are unloving, uninterested, and unsafe -- and, therefore, not a secure option. Your ex seems to hold all power and is adeptly punishing you for leaving the team.

If your child fails to reject you enough, there are consequences, such as withdrawal of love and affection, expressions of anger or cold silence, accusations of disloyalty, or removal of privileges and privacy. Your child is desperately trying to reduce this conflict.

If you resist taking alienation personally, the character assault and rejection loses power. You will feel less emotionally crushed. You will no longer be constantly at the mercy of misinformed opinions. You will demonstrate that it is possible to say no to your ex, that you choose not to validate his/her false reality.

Adopt the "gray rock method" mentioned in Five Reasons to Lose the Blame Game. The more you can set your ego aside, the less the antics of your ex will trigger and derail you. The drama is designed to distract you, exhaust you, and discourage you.

Living your truth holds far more weight than speaking it or defending it.

#3: Don't make assumptions.

Assumption is defined as a thing that is accepted as true or as certain to happen, without proof. 

Parental alienation involves rampant distortion, lies, manipulation, and erraticism, all achieved with a tremendous lack of proof. Truth and certainty cannot exist with alienation, so you simply shouldn't assume. Anything. Ever.

Assumptions make you more vulnerable to the chaos and instability of parental alienation, because you are expecting things like logic, identification of problems and solutions, consistency, and adherence to agreements. None of that is going to happen.

Accept that your situation does not allow for ideal co-parenting approaches and lacks the possibility of clear communication, coordinated schedules and rational discussions of major decisions.

Keep your focus on things that you can control. Be proactive about preserving contact and time with your child. Don't count on your ex to inform you about school events, adhere to the custody schedule, or adhere to court rulings. Plan for alternate options to reduce chaos.

Have no expectations.

#4: Always do your best.

Allow me to emphasize the YOUR best part -- the best you personally have at any given moment, without judgment or comparison.

Your best might mean doing less, not more, right now. Parental alienation is depleting and discouraging. Set effective boundaries that respect your personal limits. Prioritize self-care and finding a sustainable pace -- which only you can determine.

That said, your best is so very important. You certainly didn't ask for parental alienation, but you are a parent. You are an adult. The alienating parent is locked into dysfunction, and you cannot expect him/her to change. Your child was born into the manipulative madness.

You are the only person in this triangle that has the freedom and cognitive wherewithal to make intentional, constructive changes. Your love, patience, creativity, and tenacity are essential for preserving the possibility of reconnection with your child in the future.

Note: If you purchase The Four Agreements through the link above or ad below, I may receive a nominal affiliate commission to help pay for costs associated with this endeavor. Thank you!

Staying power is everything.

My dad first introduced me to the concept of staying power, or the ability to maintain an activity or commitment over time. Those many years ago, he used it as a business reference, a company having the reserves to keep the doors open until it reached a stage of profitability.

Staying power ended up being a critical consideration for me when I found myself in the thick of parental alienation. I was exhausted, discouraged, and my resources were depleted.

I had tried legal assistance, mediation, and various types of counseling (all expensive ventures). I was paying copious amounts of child support each month, yet had zero interaction with my two teenage daughters.

I was also operating in a severe emotional deficit. Repeatedly reaching out into the dark only to be met with rejection bruises the soul. And, yet, I could not, would not ever stop. My rejectors were my own children, and this situation was not of their choosing.

To say I was exhausted is an understatement, and my go-to coping activities (hiking, racquetball or cardio kickboxing, with a yoga chaser) weren't working enough anymore. My cousin Cheryl, an avid runner, helped me see that I had passed the "sprint" phase of my plight and was now in a marathon. I needed to adjust my pace for the long run.

Keeping the door cracked open with your child during alienation, to whatever tiny degree is possible, is essential for the possibility of reconnecting one day. Your effort makes you that much more accessible when their "light bulb" moment of realization happens, and they are ready to consider that you may not be the enemy. Attempts at contact, even if each gesture is rebuffed, are counter-evidence demonstrating that you are NOT an evil monster who doesn't care.

At one point, I was so entirely cut out of my daughters' lives that my only source of information about them was the grapevine -- random comments, screenshots and updates via friends who still had some level of contact with my kids and were brave enough to share a few details with me.

This is how I learned my older daughter Emily graduated a year early from high school. While I was leaving my office one evening, I received a text from a friend who had seen Emily's graduation mentioned on Facebook. The news stopped me in my tracks. Being left out of this landmark moment brought tears to my eyes, much to the awkward dismay of a young coworker who immediately regretted asking if I was okay.

I was fairly certain that my daughters were still receiving my texts, although many months had gone by without any sort of response at that point. My texts had admittedly become pathetic, between my lack of knowledge about what was happening in their lives and a massive communication black hole. I was also keenly aware that everything I did was "wrong" and used to campaign against me. Stretches of unanswered "I love you" messages seemed desperate, so I interspersed them with remarks about the weather and current events.

It sounds a bit ridiculous to someone who hasn't experienced alienation, but I began to notice that the simple act of sending a one-sided text -- which had become hugely important to maintain -- had developed a weighty emotional price for me. To set a pace that I could maintain for the long haul, I had to mindfully observe what frequency of black-hole texts I could send without feeling overly defeated and risk losing momentum.

If you are experiencing parental alienation, start evaluating your efforts and whether you are able to continue them over a long period of time. Financial considerations are important, but don't underestimate less tangible resources, like time, energy, and emotional stability. Your goal is long-term staying power, setting a pace that you can maintain for an undetermined length of time.

Hang in there. If you have questions for me or suggestions for related topics that you'd like me to address, send me a message.