Losing custody of my kids was the darkest chapter of my life. There’s no easy way to describe the pain of being separated from the most precious part of your world. It felt like my heart was ripped out, and every day since has been a battle to heal and rebuild what was shattered.
I never imagined my life would take such a turn. I’d always tried to be a good mother — present, loving, doing everything in my power to give my children the best life possible. But I made the mistake so many of us make when caught in a toxic, narcissistic relationship: I lost myself while trying to hold on to someone who never truly cared.
It broke me. Mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, I hit rock bottom. That breakdown cost me more than I can express, including the custody of my kids. Watching their father step into the role of "the responsible parent" while throwing my failures in my face was like salt on an open wound. On one hand, I was relieved to see my children well taken care of. On the other hand, I was devastated that it wasn’t me providing that care.
He constantly reminds me of my shortcomings, telling me I don’t love my kids or that I’m incapable of being the mother they deserve. Narcissists thrive on control, and I feel like he’s determined to keep me down — to ensure that I never fully recover, never get my life back, and never reclaim my role as their mother.
Two parents are supposed to work together for the well-being of their children. But that’s not how this works with him. He fights me every step of the way, making co-parenting feel impossible. I’ve tried to be mature, to prioritize the kids, and to encourage their relationship with their dad because I know how important that is. But he doesn't show me the same respect. Instead, it feels like he’s using the kids as a weapon to hurt me and to reinforce his control.
A few years ago, I begged him — "No matter what happens between us, never take the kids away from me. They’re my heart." But that didn’t stop him. Losing them became the ultimate punishment for stepping away from his control.
But here’s the thing: I’m not giving up. I refuse to let this be the end of my story. I’m fighting every day to heal from the damage he caused, to rebuild myself piece by piece. I’m determined to be the strong, stable mother my kids need. They deserve to see a parent who fights for them, even when the odds seem stacked against her.
If you’ve been in this place — broken, blamed, and fighting to reclaim your life — I want you to know you’re not alone. Healing is possible, and the darkness doesn’t last forever.
One step at a time, I’m learning to find myself again. And if you're reading this, I hope you will too. Keep fighting, keep healing, and never forget: You are stronger than the pain you've endured.
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