It’s happening again. Yesterday the mom got angry at me for not bidding her will, and took Lily. Just for the night I guess. I’m not sure, there is no way of knowing. She’s in school now, or should be. Again something I can’t know.
It had started earlier. She didn’t like that Lily was playing at friend’s places for an entire weekend. Or that she had a sleepover. It wasn’t about arguments, it was about finding something to justify ripping Lily out of the stability and security that I had built for her. Ripping her out of our community, where she’s happy. It’s always between September and December that she gets like that. Aggressive. Conflictive. Insecure.
I know it’s not my fault. Nor Lily’s. We’ve been doing good, maybe too good? Yes, I’m asking myself too many questions anyway. What could I have done differently? Nothing. The truth is that she wanted it to happen. When someone in power – and here in Ecuador, the mother is in power completely – wants something to happen, they’ll make it happen.
There are no rational arguments behind it. I did take the opportunity and told my story, too, as Lily was unfortunately listening when her mom went at me with all those accusations. For completion of the story:
- Lily is supposedly always dirty.
- I never have her wash herself.
- I never do her hair.
- She always wears horrible clothes.
- I don’t feed her right.
- She spends more time at other people’s houses than at home.
Things like that. Those who have kids know. Lily’s mom doesn’t. She’s never here. I told her that nothing of that is true and did contribute my arguments to the “discussion”. Of course, she didn’t like that, but if she was already that mad, why not get a few things out there. Maybe something will stick in her mind, though I doubt it. It never has. But it’s good that I said it. That Lily was able to hear the other side, too. Had to. She was changing into her ballet clothes. Her mom was getting more upset, it’s not often that I set limits and defend myself. So I went to see how Lily was doing.
“I want to live with mom”, was the first thing she said, frightened. Pleasing the mom for peace. I know this well. I hugged her.
“If you really want that, that’s okay,” I whispered in her ear. “But it’s not something that you have to decide, nor now.”
“I don’t want to have to decide.” Heart clenched. Breath. Give her a kiss.
“You don’t have to. Remember what you told me? That nobody is going to take us apart? I’ll always be with you, I’ve made it until now, right?” She nods. I help her put on the tights that she chose to wear under the dress. It’s raining season, she catches a cold quickly.
She came back after ballet. To do her homework and pack a few things. Her mom had realized that she didn’t have anything for Lily to stay the night with her (she lives 3h away and stays at hostels when here) nor to prepare for school, after I had sent her a message with the homework and other details about Lily’s routines. I packed a bag, clothes, toothbrush, school stuff.
“Can I take teddy?”
“Yes of course.”
“Good, because I can’t sleep without him.”
“I know, love.”
She finished her homework. My brother was here, too, so Lily wanted us to lift her up and hug between the three of us. We did. A little longer than usual. Then her mom came and off they went. Her mom wouldn’t tell me where they stayed, because I’m not allowed to know, according to her. It’s none of my business. Power plays. When she asks me, I have to answer right away. Just another double moral.
I got used to it, as much as one can. I know my path. I have my strategy, and it’s working out well for Lily. There will always be bumps in the road, I can’t always protect her from the misguided anger, frustration, fears and trauma that her mom carries and doesn't want to address properly. But I can tell her afterwards, help her work through her own issues that she will eventually develop. If she decides to. I try to be the better example there. Showing the positives of working through my issues. Trying to make a point there. I hope she’ll see the difference of value behind her mom’s approach, and mine. One day.
It still hurts. Every time. The constant attacks. The rage against everything. The inability of even realizing how it affects Lily. Or worse, the capacity of making up arguments in her head to justify her actions against us. Sometimes I wish I didn’t live in Ecuador. That I lived in a country where those fathers who actually choose to be fathers (because many scumbags don’t, and that’s why the law here is what it is), where those have a chance to be fathers. And not have to live under the constant threat of being taken apart again. Where parents are forced to find compromise for their children’s well-being, instead of their own egoistical agendas, using the kids as weapons. Utopia. I know.
Okay. Time to get up again, wipe those tears off my face. I’ve got this.
Thank you for reading! Written this morning. Reviewed and published 12h later. Please feel free to engage in any original way, including dropping links to your posts on similar topics. I'm happy to read (and curate) any quality content that is not created by LLM/AI, as well as read your own experience and point of view, I love to learn!