I know I’m going to cop a lot of heat for this, but I would hope that if the headline already has you burning with rage, you might take a minute to calm down and then consider the possibility that I might have something reasonable to say on this topic.
I spent a long time fighting by my husband’s side for his daughter. Without divulging details, I can tell you that had anyone stopped to think that sometimes dads are the better choice, my stepdaughter might not be having the mental health struggles she is today. For many years, we did our best to get the powers that be to see she ought to have been with us; that we could offer her a more stable life. For years we pissed away what little money we had on court fees and filing fees and document servers and consultations with lawyers who charged hundreds per hour and required retainers much more than we’d ever saved in our lives.
The bottom line was always the same: mom gets the benefit of the doubt and dad needs to be willing to slip into financial ruin to just be an active parent in his daughter’s life. Before we could even think about doing anything serious, we were out of cash and declaring bankruptcy.
During this time, because we were so broke, I searched and searched and searched for organizations that helped dads in British Columbia. I could only find the crumb trails to distant memories of good ideas that hadn’t lasted long. I expanded my search to the entire country, and found nothing. Looked across the continent, and found very little. What I did find, though, over and over and over again, for years on end, every time I searched for help for fathers in custodial matters, were organizations set up to help women. Free legal services, free private investigators, free counseling, free everything if you’re a mom. If you’re the father in the dispute, though, there is nothing. Nada. Zilch.
Ten years of this went by and I could find no help for my husband; no help for my stepdaughter.
I cannot begin to explain to you the helplessness I felt; how hard it was to just go on with life. When you love a child so much, but you can’t help her when she most needs it, it’s just the most devastating feeling in the world. It just about tore Godless Dad and I apart. We lived with this hanging over our heads everyday, wondering why the system had been set up to utterly destroy fathers.
So, when Godless Dad and I watched the Red Pill this Saturday, it was like having ten years of anger, frustration, misery, depression and helplessness validated. Someone was talking about it… finally.
While I have not researched and verified for myself all the information put forth in this documentary, the movie accomplished something so, so very important: it made you think that maybe, just maybe, the reality we’d all accepted isn’t an accurate reality at all. Maybe we need to dig a little deeper and open our minds a little further.
It makes you think. It makes you want to learn. As the mother to a boy, and the wife to a husband who was almost completely destroyed by his involuntary inability to be there for his daughter, it makes you wonder why in holy hell we’re aren’t talking about these things more.
And then I remember: People who talk about these things are bound to cop a lot of heat. Like I will, for saying I really enjoyed the Red Pill and suggesting maybe you’ll like it, too: The Red Pill.