The Plan

It’s been a rough week. In the middle of a rough year. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been triggered to the point that I’m spiraling a bit. But, at the same time, I’m filled with hope as I remember my belief that…

My voice is a gift that God gave me, to speak out against the crimes that he knew would be committed against me.

It’s as simple as that. I have faith that God doesn’t allow things to not have purpose. The purpose of my existence is to help others through what I’ve been through and to use my voice, both in comfort and to make change. And, while I stumble over my words out loud at times, I’m the first to admit that I could probably talk a vegan into a steak if I wrote to them about it. When I put pen to paper, my words rarely get denied.

So, what happened was this.

After Aaron passed, I decided that it was time to get back into volunteer work. I knew what I wanted. It’s what I’ve always wanted. To help kids, who are where I was, in the ways that I wish I’d been helped. (That’s the other gift God gave me…I’m the traumatized child whisperer…they sense a kindred spirit and they let me in. I’m not even exaggerating here.)

So, I decided that the best step was to become a CASA (court appointed special advocate for neglected and abused children). It felt like the perfect fit. It felt like I would be able to do some good. And…it felt AMAZING to know that the county had something in place for these kids (which did not exist at the time that we were caught). It felt like the county had really moved forward in the 3.5 decades since my world fell apart.

I made it through the interview. I made it through the background check. I made it through the first couple of nights of training.

What I didn’t make it through was the guest speaker on the third night. A DFCS employee, who spoke about the wonderful programs in place to help these kids, was asked a question that led her to mention, in passing, a parental abduction case. I was intrigued. I asked if they see a lot of those and how they handle them. She was confused and asked what I meant. I specified parental abduction. At which point she told me…

…there’s no such thing as parental abduction…a parent can’t kidnap THEIR kid…and the police can get involved if they want but DFCS doesn’tget involved.

I was devastated. For the little girl inside me. For the children that have come since me. For the children yet to come.

Parental abduction still doesn’t exist as a traumatizing event to them. Services are not ordered to these children afterward. They are still alone.

I wanted to scream the truth at her.

That studies show that ANY child, taken by the noncustodial parent with the intent to run, is in danger. That, no matter the reason, that parent is not in a healthy frame of mind. Whether they are running to protect the child (fear), to punish the other parent (anger), to escape and start brand new (desperation)…whatever the reason…whatever the motivation…they are being controlled by emotions and a child can be hurt.

That NO child who is parentally abducted, no matter the length of time, will ever be able to have the same relationship with both parents. Abducting the child is one of those lines in the sand that no parent ever forgives. The left behind parent (even if it’s a day) will HATE the abducting parent. The abducting parent…let’s be honest…already hated the other parent. And that kind of hate is never unfelt by children. Even IF everything is done to help the child, in the end they will have to choose which parent to be close to. They’ll never be allowed to have both.

That it’s estimated that 200,000 children per year are put in this position.

I wanted to scream all of it. Luckily, I’m far enough in my therapy to not let my emotions control my reactions. So, I went outside and cried. Composed myself. Went back in.

The rest of that night was a bit of a train wreck for me because I was already triggered, and it’s an emotional topic. So, after the end, I stopped to speak to the person in charge and had a heart to heart about whether she thought this was the right place for me, if I can still be triggered. I wanted to HELP children, not somehow make it worse. But I assured her it wasn’t the material, it was the unforseen topic that came up. She told me to keep giving it a try but that we’d stay in communication. 

Two days later, she sent me a very generic email thanking me for my interest but they’d met as a team and decided I wasn’t a good fit.

Oh. Wow. Ok. A lot of reactions to this.

First and foremost in my mind: Wow. This feels like victim shaming. Not only should I be ashamed, they met as a group to talk about me and to decide, as a group, that I should be ashamed.

Next: *spiraling* WHAT DID I DO WRONG??? I handled it right this time!! I don’t understand what I did!!

Followed By: My boss telling me I should demand an explanation…and me saying, “No. I don’t chase people or their acceptance anymore. I’ve grown past that. They don’t want me? Fine. I’m gone. Yes, it hurts like hell, but I won’t beg for anything anymore.” And THAT felt like INCREDIBLE growth for me.

Simultaneously with: Acceptance that I didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe I did in their minds. I don’t know. I’ll never know. I don’t need to know. Because *I* know I did it right.

And then, finally: Resolute anger. Not at the DFCS worker. Not at the people who decided that I shouldn’t be allowed to help children. Resolute anger at a system that still teaches that children abducted by their parents are, “Fine. They’re with their parent.”

IT. HAS. TO. STOP.

So, I began to research. Here’s what I found for the state of Georgia (which was no surprisurprise, as this is how it is in most states, and it’s something I’ve helped fight against in the past). Parental Abduction falls under Custodial Interference. This bucket encompasses the extreme of parental abduction all the way down to a parent being an hour late returning a child from visitation. Because, yeah…that’s TOTALLY the same. Additionally, that bucket is so all encompassing, you can abduct your child twice without it being a felony, as long as you don’t cross state lines.

Let me stress that point. A child can be kidnapped twice, and it’s only a misdemeanor.

This is, quite honestly, unacceptable.

So…back that voice.

Thanks to the moment that I never expected…and the triggering that followed…and then the spiraling of feeling rejected and shamed…

I decided that, if I can’t help in the way I had planned, I’ll use my gift to take it further.

I’m going straight to the state about the laws. They can hear from the mouth of a survivor WHY these laws have to change.

I’m going straight to the state and county level of DFCS to plead that they change policy to start assisting victims of parental abduction, as well.

Don’t get me wrong. Inside of this determined, and usually fairly composed, woman is a raging petty w(b)itch…who WANTS to blast the woman who told me it wasn’t a crime. Yes, I want to scream at her…I want to write a letter to her boss…I want to scream at the people who decided, as “a team”, that I wasn’t acceptable. I want to do all of these things, but I won’t. Why? Because part of the gift of a voice is knowing to use it when you have a chance of being heard. But if you use it in anger and retribution, people stop listening.

Just as I won’t let anyone take my voice from me, I also won’t give it away recklessly. This gift of mine has been hard won and I’ll never let it go.

Now it’s time to put it to use.