Divorce Chaos: The Fallout from Gift Giving

My son was eight years old this year and just started third grade. When he criticized me alongside his father, he didn't sound like a third grader at all.

I couldn't remember when the child I had raised started looking at me without a word of gratitude, only complaints.

"When you play at home every day, you're wasting my dad's money."

"My dad works so hard to make money. Can't you make things easier for him?"

"What right do you have to tell me what to do? You're the one in this family who does nothing but play."

When my son spoke to me, I felt dazed for a moment. His expression overlapped with Brandon's in my mind. Perhaps I really didn't know how to raise a child, which was why the child I risked my life to give birth to knew how to hurt me the most.

Previously, when I was sick and resting at home, I was bedridden with a high fever. My husband, Brandon, my son, Bryan and my mother-in-law, Brenda, each came to my bedside one after the other.

"Mom, I'm hungry. Get up and make me some food."

"Where's the soy sauce in the kitchen? Mom can't find it, so why don't you get up and cook?"

"My grandson is too much to handle and Brandon can't manage. Hurry and get up to take care of your son."

They weren't concerned about me, they just wanted to see if I was pretending to be sick so they could make me get up and do housework. In the end, I couldn't get up and heard complaints all around the house as my mother-in-law cooked and everyone ate together.

In that family gathering, I was not included. I was starving and was left with nothing but a bowl of cold porridge.

"Aren't you running a fever? Eat something cold to bring it down."

I washed the dishes from that meal the next day after my fever broke. They only needed me when there was a problem. Otherwise, I was invisible. No one in this family ever listened to me, nor did anyone care about my feelings.

I looked at my son, who was impatient and said, "There's no need to argue anymore. Your dad and I are getting a divorce. You won't have a mother anymore."

This marriage should have ended long ago and it was better to leave this son behind too.

Upon hearing about the divorce, the three of them didn't seem surprised, instead, they found it laughable. "Divorce? Do you think you'll find another fool to take care of you after leaving me? Whitney, stop dreaming!" Brandon said arrogantly.

My son also mocked me, "With you looking like that, Dad's the only one who would want you."

Ignoring their ridicule, I went to pack some essentials and left. I didn't dare go home because I knew my parents would try to persuade me to return.

Over the years, I had resisted many times, but whenever I resolved to leave this life, my parents would intervene, "How old are you? You're making a fuss over such a small matter. Bryan is already so grown up, what are you doing causing trouble? You're in your thirties. Be more mature."

I had heard such words countless times and countless times my resistance proved futile. Without family to support me, I decided to be strong on my own.

The next morning, after clearing my mind, I went to my friend's law firm and asked her to draft a divorce agreement for me while also filing for divorce in court.

My friend analyzed my situation, "In my experience, you won't get much in the way of assets. Although Brandon is at fault, they're mostly ethical and moral issues, not substantial enough for the court to favor you.

However, I might be able to help you fight for custody of the child. If you can find a stable job during this time and have a good talk with Bryan, getting him to express in court his wish to be with you, it will increase your chances."

I said, "I don't want the child, just try to get me more money."

Anyone who wanted to take care of such a child could have him. Men and children would betray me, but money wouldn't.