My ex-wife set the visitation rules and I didn't fight her.
Give her what she wants financially. I will not go to court and put my little girl through watching her parents fight over her.
My story began close to forty years ago. I can't believe it's been that long, but life speeds by when you are busy doing.
I met my wife in my early 20s. I genuinely fell for her, was very happy to marry her, and we were right for each other. Then life happened early on in our marriage that made a fundamental difference and damaged everything. Janet's dad had a stroke and her mum couldn't cope. Her other siblings weren't nearby, and the responsibility fell on Janet's shoulders. I didn't say anything at first, it came as a shock and family is family and that's what you do.
You care for each other in times of need.
Care isn't like it is today for stroke victims and there wasn't much treatment available except to make him comfortable and wait. He lost his ability to talk and move about unaided, and he never truly recovered. Her mum refused to get help, she was one of those ladies who everyone took care of all her life. So when this happened, you would think she would become more hands-on, but she didn't and I blame Janet for that.
Janet had to quit her job to be there every day, and I kept coming home from work to an empty house more often than not. After a while, I would drive over there and eat dinner with them and bring Janet home. We stopped talking to each other about anything besides her mundane routine and her mother's complaints. I wanted to be supportive, and I did for a good year or so, but then I had one of those impossible days and I needed to come home to my wife.
I desperately needed to talk, share, and be alone with her and I cracked.
I complained, and I don't recall the words, but her mum kicked up a fuss that I was stealing her daughter from her. The guilt kicked in and Janet, without me realising it, started to live a life of split loyalty. She spent more time at home, but I wonder if it was out of duty to me. A year later we were pregnant and this bundle of joy was born. We called her Evie after my great-grandmother and the highlight of my day was getting up at the crack of dawn to see her smiling in her cot before I left for work and then I would race home to her squeals in the bathtub with bubbles everywhere. Her laughter filled the house and my heart. Janet would take her over to her parents during the day where she was smothered with love. They adored her too.
We sold our home and bought somewhere slightly more spacious, preempting the next child. It needed some work done to it, and sadly Janet's father's health declined around the same time. Initially, we moved in to save money, but as his health declined so did Janet's warmth towards me.
When it came time to move out, she advised me I was leaving alone.
There was a harshness that left me shocked and feeling unstable like my own personal earthquake. Evie came down the stairs on her bum and squealed with excitement to see me so early. Her timing jolted me and I remember thinking this is the last time I am going to wake up with my family intact.
I left a few days later, numb, angry, and hurt. No words can explain the feeling I was in. I missed Evie, my ten minutes of sunshine in the morning and my afternoon fix too. She had already called a lawyer. My lawyer sat me down and shared his experience, the cold hard facts of what was ahead of me. Men back then did not bode well in court when it came to seeing more of their children. He explained the process, the costs, the unfairness of the system and my rights.
Janet decided overnight that I could only take Evie after breakfast on Sunday for two hours. The hours were not negotiable, and I was not to call during the week. I saw this dark side to her that I could never imagine existed and I sunk into a space of hopelessness. As we completed the negotiations on the house, child support and all the extras, my lawyer suggested I file for weekly custody. I was concerned about what would happen if I made waves and demands and how Janet would find a way to cut me out entirely. I told my lawyer,
Give her what she wants financially. I will not go to court and put my little girl through watching her parents fight over her. (back then kids would come to court)
Janet gave me Saturdays instead. The entire day Evie was mine. I would pick her up, take her out, and we would run around laughing and hugging and as she grew older we would chat about her week. I knew this time was precious and whatever Janet asked for or needed I said yes to. I knew that if I questioned anything, she would say Evie had a cold or a bad night's sleep and I would miss my Saturday with her.
It was a game I wasn't prepared to play and make our daughter collateral damage.
As Evie grew up, I got to call her after school once a week, and sometimes I got Sunday afternoon tea. She never stayed over but we could go away for a week a year. During her teen years, I thought I would see less of her, but Evie included me in her social life and used me to take her and her friends out for the day or to parties. I loved it. I would have been doing the same had I lived at home. Listening to her and her friends laughing in the car and singing the latest awful pop songs made my heart sing.
I attended school concerts, open days, sports days, and parent evenings, I even got the privilege of driving her around the UK visiting Universities.
I wasn't entirely excluded, but enough that a scan would show the scars of my heartache.
I never discussed any of this with Evie or Janet. I used to let it all out to my sister who was on standby to keep me from blowing my top. Her husband would invite me over after drop-off for a drink and a solid hand on my shoulder to remind me I was doing this for Evie. Inside I was struggling.
Janet was a 'good' parent to Evie in that she was loved and cared for. I know it's wrong to say this because of what she did to me, but Evie is a beautiful woman today, happy. She has three girls and a great husband who comfortably says No to Janet. (he chuckles)
Nothing has ever been said, the elephant in the room isn't causing any harm and I can't rewind the past. I would do exactly the same if this were to happen to me today, even with the rights now afforded to men.
I am a hands-on grandad now, blessed with them wrapping themselves around my legs when I turn up. The hurt and pain remain, but I believe the choices I made kept me in her life.
These grandchildren are the elixir of life.
If you would like to share your story or you are a professional who wants to share some insights, please email me at contact@angryexwife.com
