Divorce, while often seen as the dissolution of a marriage, has profound ripple effects that extend far beyond the courtroom. For children caught in the turbulent wake of their parents’ separation, it’s a life-altering experience that can leave indelible marks on their formative years. In this article, we delve into the poignant and sometimes painful stories of individuals who grew up in the shadow of divorce. These are narratives that speak of the raw, unfiltered truth, of the tumultuous times they endured during their childhoods.
It’s a narrative of the bad stuff—the tears shed, the emotional turbulence, and the bewildering challenges that arose when their parents parted ways. These are stories that underscore the gravity of divorce, stories that lay bare the impact it can have on innocent young minds. From custody battles to emotional roller coasters, from feeling like a pawn in a never-ending game to struggling with divided loyalties, these stories shed light on the tumultuous journeys taken by those who experienced divorce from the unique vantage point of a child.
Getting in trouble at school
Getting in trouble at school for not having the right books or uniform because you forgot them at the other house or lost them altogether can be a frustrating experience for any child caught in the whirlwind of divorce. It’s a daily reminder of the challenges that come with divided households, where you shuttle between two worlds with distinct rules and expectations. The stress of keeping track of essential items across different homes can create an overwhelming sense of disarray, leaving you feeling like you’re constantly on the verge of chaos.
In such a situation, being cautious about expressing excitement or positivity about the other parent’s house becomes second nature. You find yourself tip-toeing around conversations, afraid that acknowledging the good times in one household might somehow betray your allegiance to the other. It’s a delicate balancing act that can make you feel like you’re living in a perpetual emotional minefield, trying not to upset the fragile equilibrium of divided loyalties.
Beeing the middleman between your parents
The mental exhaustion stemming from years of being a middleman for your parents takes a toll that’s hard to put into words. It’s a relentless cycle—going from one house to the next, caught in the crossfire of parental disputes. One parent vents about the other, and you’re left trying to put on a brave face, torn between maintaining respect for the parent in front of you and avoiding harboring resentment towards the one at home, who was talking negatively about the parent in front of you. It’s a delicate balancing act, one that often feels like walking on emotional eggshells.
And it doesn’t end there. When you return to the other parent’s home, the complaints persist. The weight of their grievances bears down on you, and you become an unwitting therapist, a confidant for their frustrations. What’s more, you might not even realize the extent of this role you’ve been thrust into. It’s a silent burden, carried by many children of divorce, who find themselves navigating the complex terrain of their parents’ emotions, often at the expense of their own.
Not feeling like a part of the family
Waking up and not knowing where you are was such a frequent feeling it no longer freaks me out. The disorienting nature of constantly shifting between two households becomes a hauntingly familiar sensation, a surreal aspect of your daily existence that you grow accustomed to. The once unsettling notion of not knowing your surroundings becomes just another layer in the complex tapestry of a life divided.
Not feeling like you belong to one half of your family when you visit. Your stepsiblings get closer to your parent than you are because they live with them. It’s devastating, especially after watching your own family disappear. The sense of not quite fitting into either world, of being a perpetual outsider in your own family dynamic, is a profound source of sorrow. Witnessing the bonds between your stepsiblings and one parent grow stronger, while your own familial ties seem to fray, is a poignant reminder of the family that once was.
Different Styles of parenting
For me, I got to deal with different styles of parenting. At first, I spent weekdays at my mothers and weekends at my fathers. My mother was/is a terrible and hateful person, so after a couple of years, I was at my father’s full time with occasional visits to my mother’s.
My mother thought since I spent time at my father’s on the weekends, it was all playtime when I was there. She’d bitch to me and him about how it’s unfair she has the days with school and work and he has the fun weekend days off to play. This was really wrong actually. My mother’s style was to cook and clean, never involve me or ask for help, then give me shit for not helping. She was the single mother martyr. “I cook and clean for you, and this is the thanks I get?” That kind of thing.
If I did offer to help, whatever I did was wrong. Always. If something went wrong with cooking, it was somehow my fault, and I’d be yelled at. If she did want me to do something, she’d demand I do it, usually with some threat of punishment for not completing the task. No matter what I did, the job wasn’t good enough. My father worked long hours during the week, and the weekends were the only real time he could do chores. Most of Saturday was us going to a laundry mat, shopping, cleaning the car, going home and cleaning the house, cooking dinner, etc. The difference was he involved me. I have really fond memories of hanging out in the laundry mat, having conversations with him, walking over to the funky burger place for lunch, even folding clothes with him is a fond memory. He didn’t know how to cook at first, so the two of us figured it out together – which involved some hilarious mistakes and main courses you’d never want to eat. If something went wrong with dinner, no big deal. We’d start again or go out to eat.
If he wanted me to do some chore, I was asked to do it. No threats. Once it was done, I got a pat on the back. If I didn’t do a great job at whatever it was, we’d go over it together, and he’d show me the right way. It was all casual though. Leaving his house after the weekend was miserable. I’d go from a warm, comforting space to a hostile environment. She knew I wasn’t happy at her place, and she’d take it out on me and my father. She never once, even to this day, realized the problem was with her. This is kind of a weird place for a kid to be in. I wanted to be involved in things around the house, but I also didn’t want to be yelled at for stupid reasons. It’s a bit of a headfuck. In my mind, my mother’s house, my primary residence, was just a place I visited 5 days a week. My father’s house where I spent 2 days a week was my home.
Parents interacting
The worst part was the anxiety around having your parents interact. Even 10 years later I can’t mention my mum around my dad as I have no idea what he’ll do. He once saw my mum’s new partner when dropping us off (he was doing something in the garage) and tried to fight him.
You end up feeling like 2 different people. I had stuff at one house but not the other, so my entire daily routine and life was completely different at each house. The second you go to one house, it’s like you shift and completely forget everything to do with anything at the other house. You can’t mention anything you did at the other house, so the 2 parts of your life become so fractured. It didn’t feel too bad at the time because it’s just how it was. It’s only now I’m older I can look back and see how much it kinda fucked with me.
The coping mechanism of compartmentalizing my life into two distinct halves was a survival strategy during my formative years. Yet, with the benefit of hindsight, I realize the toll it took on my sense of identity and emotional well-being. The scars of navigating a fractured existence continue to shape my perspective even a decade later.
Parents hating on each other
Trying to please both parents at the same time while you spend most of your time at a certain one. I grew up with my mom while being brainwashed that my dad is a horrible person all while when you hear “So, when are you going to come out here and live with me?” from my dad. When you’re five years old, that’s something you don’t need to deal with. Every summer, spring break, and other Christmas holiday was a nightmare.
Turns out my dad is a really good guy. Just has a few demons like the rest of us. After 25 years, my mom still holds a serious hatred toward him.
I got married almost 7 years ago and naturally, I invited my dad. Here I was on MY wedding day and my own mother could not stop the bitterness for a small handful of hours. Ironically, that was the first time my wife met my dad and only had good things to say about him.
Tension at events
The unbelievable tension of both parents needing to be present at a single event that should have otherwise been a joyous occasion (birthday, graduation, etc), and instead is a stressful wreck of a dumpster fire managing your own enthusiasm about one parent while in the other’s presence.
It’s about calculating how much time you’re spending with each, instead of enjoying the fun you could have had. These events that should have been filled with laughter and celebration become dreadfully complicated and anxiety-ridden.
The weight of divided loyalties and the constant juggling act between parents turns what could be memorable moments into overwhelming, emotionally charged experiences that nobody, especially not a child, should have to endure.
Beeing a parent as a child of divorced parents
I’m a parent, happily married with a child. It’s only since having my own family that I truly grasped how messed up my own upbringing was. Growing up with divorced parents, I accepted it as normal because only a handful of my friends had divorced parents. Now, as I witness my child’s experiences with her friends from broken families, I realize how profoundly it impacts kids—the different emotional responses, manipulative behaviors, and struggles with trust.
The hard part is that my child is the same age I was when my parents divorced. We were forced to grow up quickly, handling tasks like budgeting for groceries and making dinners. Sometimes, I forget that kids shouldn’t have to shoulder those responsibilities. It’s okay for me to still do things for my child as a parent, to teach her emotional stability and skills nobody taught me, like hygiene. In many ways, I see the advantages my child has with parents who work together and support each other, giving her the opportunity to thrive in any direction.
I despise divorce for kids. I always advise anyone I know dating someone with a stepchild to treat them as their own and foster co-parenting, regardless of what happened in the past. Your relationship is not your child’s relationship, and even after divorce, it’s crucial to speak positively about each other and provide support for your child.
Creating a split personality
The split personality that you develop over time is a result of your parents’ inability to get along, which led to their separation. This discord extends into how they maintain their homes and the expectations they have for you. What’s considered normal behavior for one parent may be utterly unacceptable to the other. This dissonance in their parenting styles creates a rift in your personality, as you strive to appease both parents and adapt to different standards during visitation times.
Even as a 30-something-year-old man, I still grapple with these conflicting behaviors. It’s not just about maintaining my own home differently but also about differing political views, religious beliefs, and more. The struggle to reconcile these disparate aspects of my personality, shaped by the divergent expectations and environments of my parents’ homes, continues to influence my life in significant ways.
The legacy of navigating two worlds with distinct rules and standards can leave a lasting impact, affecting various facets of your adult life. It’s a constant reminder of the dual nature you developed as a child, attempting to harmonize conflicting expectations. Overcoming these challenges and finding your own identity amidst the discord can be a lifelong journey, one that many adult children of divorced parents continue to navigate.
,,Staying together for the kids”
My parents opted for the “stay together for the kids” approach, which, arguably, was just as detrimental. They slept in separate rooms and lacked love for each other, casting a perpetual shadow of lovelessness over our home. Though I love them, my siblings and I received little guidance from our parents. The one lesson I learned was how not to raise your kids, in a drugs and booze-first-before-family type of environment.
Their marriage dragged on until I was 21, a 27-year journey that had arguably lost its vitality after the first 8. The divorce, when it finally happened, was an ugly spectacle, witnessed by me and my two younger brothers, aged 19 and 13 at the time. The disintegration of their marriage laid bare the painful reality of our upbringing.
It may not align precisely with the original question, but the experience of growing up with parents who stay together despite an absence of genuine love is something people with harmonious family environments often take for granted. Witnessing such toxicity throughout our childhoods is a stark reminder of how fortunate others are to have never endured such a corrosive atmosphere.
Caring for yourself
Many of us had to mature at a rapid pace. My mom’s early work hours meant my sister and I were often left to prepare for school on our own. I took on the role of caretaker, ensuring my sister had everything she needed when we visited my dad’s. I vividly recall assisting her through her first period and frequently preparing dinner for her.
We became intermediaries for parents who refused to communicate, a dynamic that persists even two decades after their divorce. They often badmouthed each other, a pattern I eventually had to confront with firm boundaries once I recognized its damaging impact.
The notion of having two Christmases or two birthdays sounds appealing, but in reality, it’s often a source of stress. As a child, I felt compelled to choose one parent over the other, a sentiment that occasionally lingers even today. While I now acknowledge that their separation was for the best, the weight of those decisions still echoes in my life.
Becoming mentally independent
One of the worst consequences is becoming incredibly mentally independent. My mom often unloaded her burdens on me, and my dad’s advice was typically, “You know how your mom is.” Thanks, Dad, I could have figured that out myself. At 19, I have zero emotional connection with either of them. I barely speak to my dad, and while I live with my mom, our conversations are as cordial as roommates.
The only constant in my life has always been me. Everything else has been torn apart or ignored due to different homes, schools, new stepparents, and even a half-sibling I barely know anymore. Even new pets came and went. Nothing is dependable or constant except me and my chosen family, which consists of very few. I don’t even have “friends” because what use are they when I can’t rely on them? Those I can trust are already family to me.
I am a bundle of complexities and issues that I should have been able to work through with a therapist long ago, but thanks to my mom, that didn’t happen. Despite the challenges, I’ve managed to maintain a semblance of stability and self-reliance in a world that has been anything but constant.
Finding out more about your parents
I hate that my parents divorced, but I must admit that I got to learn a lot more about my dad because of it. Before the divorce, we didn’t really interact, but afterward, he became the primary caregiver at his house. Without mom to pick up the slack, I had the opportunity to discover a whole side of him. Despite growing up in similar economic situations, I never really knew what my dad went through as a kid. One of the first weeks after he moved into his new house after the divorce, we had chorizo and eggs for dinner, and I got to hear about how he used to eat that all the time as a kid growing up in California. We even learned how to cook from him.
My dad’s stories about his younger days and the people he knew became a fascinating part of our lives. He shared anecdotes about extended family we had never met, painting a vivid picture of his past. In contrast, my mom tried to maintain a facade of normalcy and never really opened up about her life or that side of the family. The divorce brought out different aspects of my parents that I had never known before.
Despite all the valuable experiences and knowledge gained from the divorce, I would trade it all to have my parents back together again. Even after over 15 years, the pain lingers. I’ve spent more of my life with my parents apart than together, and I still remember when we were a whole family. I miss saying “my mom and dad” instead of “my mom, and dad.” The wound of a broken family never fully heals, and the longing for those happier, whole family moments remains.
Parents living far apart
The unaccompanied minor (UM) program at the airport was a part of my life when visiting my parents across the country. If you’re under 15, you can’t legally fly solo. So, you get handed off, and flight attendants essentially babysit you. They have specific UM rooms at airports with playgrounds, and you can’t leave. It was frustrating for me at ages 13 to 15, hanging out with 7-8-year-olds until my flight was up. Many of us hadn’t seen our parents for a long time and missed them, making it all the more challenging.
The worst part is they give you a plastic pouch to wear around your neck with all your flight information. Then at the airport, your parent has to sign off for you like a package. It was an uncomfortable experience, and my mom has kept my UM pouch all these years, which I despise so much.
The UM program brought a mix of annoyance and nostalgia. It was a reminder of the lengths we went to see our parents, the separation, and the bittersweet reunions at the airport. Even though it was an inconvenience, it was a testament to the sacrifices made to maintain those precious family connections across distances.
Having to preperate ever thing
It might be a bit late, but one aspect that often went unnoticed during my upbringing with divorced parents was the constant juggling and preparation required on a near-daily basis. While many might assume children of divorced parents spend a week at one house and a week at the other, my experience was different. Up until I left for college, I was splitting the week itself into two dedicated days per house and flipping the weekends. This mental chore included remembering which house I was staying at and what I needed for relaxation and homework.
I found myself frequently lugging my entire gaming setup through school. Thankfully, nothing was ever stolen from me, but it was a hassle. Having to cram miscellaneous items into my locker to accommodate this shifting schedule became a routine I’m relieved to have left behind.
The constant movement and adaptation to the divided living arrangements left a lasting impact on my organizational skills and memory. As I look back on those days, I can appreciate the resilience and adaptability that emerged from such a unique upbringing, even if it came with its share of challenges.
Stepparents hating you
A parent who consistently said, “I’ll always choose you and your brother over anyone,” but when it came down to it, didn’t want to leave the woman he cheated with for us. This left both me and my brother incredibly unhappy and bordering on depression. Eventually, we ended up staying with our mother full time when we turned 18.
Having your parents’ partners instantly dislike you upon meeting can be emotionally devastating. I’m the youngest between my brother and me, and when my father introduced me to the woman he cheated with, she was immediately cold to me. Everyone noticed it, but no one seemed to care. Our relationship worsened when I inadvertently used one of her rules against her during a holiday.
Perhaps what hurt the most was the day my mom came into the garage where I was playing and sat me down. She told me, “You know mommy and daddy are never getting back together, right?” At that age, I didn’t even know what divorce meant, and hearing those words shattered my world. I cried for hours while my mother tried to comfort me, and it was a moment that left an indelible mark on my childhood.
Having to fight to get to the better parent
I’m joining the discussion a bit late, but one of the most significant challenges for me was having to go to court and explicitly state that I did not want to live with my mother. The expectation in divorce cases is often for children to live with their mothers, but my mother was an alcoholic and a terrible parent. In contrast, my dad, while not perfect, did everything he could to take care of us.
It was a frustrating and emotionally taxing experience, having to fight against the assumption that I should live with my mother solely because she was my mom. The court initially leaned in her favor, despite the glaring issues in her parenting. It was a stark reminder of the biases that can exist in the legal system.
In the end, my father’s determination paid off, and I was able to live with him. This experience taught me the importance of standing up for what’s right, even when faced with societal norms and legal challenges. It was a defining moment in my life, and it reaffirmed the significance of a loving and supportive parent, regardless of gender.
Groing up with only one parent
Nobody ever prepared me for the journey to manhood. My dad was absent from my life, and I was primarily raised by my mom, grandmother, and sister. I vividly recall the moment when my mom suggested I start shaving my face, and I asked her how. Her response was simply, “I don’t know.” It was at that point that I realized I had to figure out how to become a man without a man to guide me.
The rare times I did see my dad, he was often preoccupied with smoking pot or spending time with his girlfriend. I resonated with the sentiment shared by someone else in this discussion about feeling like a guest in between houses. To those who grew up with both parents, you are truly blessed and fortunate beyond measure, perhaps more than you can truly comprehend.
My journey to manhood was marked by self-discovery, learning, and independence. While it was undoubtedly challenging, it also shaped me into the person I am today. It’s a testament to the resilience and adaptability that many of us develop when faced with the absence of a parent’s guidance and support.
Forgetting stuff at the other house
Forgetting things at the other house was a recurring frustration. I’ve left behind my phone, laptop, water bottle, and extracurricular items countless times. It became a habitual cycle.
On Fridays, my backpack would be packed with extra clothes, books, electronics, and more, just to prepare for the transition between houses. The uneven distribution of clothes was another challenge, as I often wore things from one house to the other, making it hard to keep track.
These logistical challenges were a constant reminder of the dual life I led. It required constant vigilance and adaptability to navigate the practical aspects of having two homes. While it may seem minor, these daily inconveniences added up and contributed to the overall complexity of life in a divided household.
Having two totaly different households
My two parents lead vastly different lifestyles, and this contrast significantly affects my sister and me as we travel between their homes.
At my mother’s house, we enjoy more freedom with our devices and have the comfort of settling in. However, she imposes her beliefs on us, especially when it comes to religion and social issues.
In contrast, my father’s house is marked by strict restrictions on device usage and a strong emphasis on socializing. While he allows us to voice our opinions, constant judgment and comparisons to our step-siblings create a sense of discomfort. The chore schedule there is rigid, with little room for flexibility.
In both houses, I experience different forms of stress. My mother is more lenient but imposes her beliefs, while my father is strict and judgmental. The inability to truly be myself in either environment is a constant challenge.
The holiday problem
My parents managed not to fight or involve me in their disagreements, which I’m grateful for. However, I couldn’t stand the two holidays split between their homes. I’m determined not to put my kids through that when I have a family of my own.
The holidays were especially challenging. Thanksgiving, in particular, stands out as the worst. It meant gorging on one giant meal, only to be driven across town for another massive feast where they expected me to eat and enjoy every dish.
Nowadays, I refuse to participate in the same-day visits to multiple households, even when it comes to extended family. I want to ensure that my kids can enjoy the holidays without the stress and overindulgence of multiple celebrations in a single day.
Having to decide what to take with you
I often found myself not wanting to go, but I’d be bundled into the car regardless. Having a personal space, my cave, was essential to me, but maintaining it across two places was a challenge. They advised me to leave some clothes at Dad’s to make it feel more like “home,” but what could I leave behind that I might need in the next two weeks?
Uniforms for school were limited, and I couldn’t afford to get extras just to leave them behind somewhere. If I did leave something behind, that was it—I couldn’t retrieve it until I was back at Mum’s (end of the weekend or the next school holiday) or back at Dad’s (two weeks away).
Even now, in my middle age, I struggle to grasp what it’s like to grow up in one stable home. Both of mine had their moments of instability, and having two homes added an extra layer of complexity to my upbringing.
Beeing scared of your own marriage
Growing up with divorced parents instills a fear of marriage as you get older. You don’t want to repeat the mistakes your parents made, and it becomes daunting to contemplate how your own relationships will fare.
The fear of separation becomes a never-ending cycle. You constantly question yourself when it comes to relationships because you never had a good example of a successful one during your upbringing.
This fear can lead to self-doubt and apprehension about committing to a long-term partnership. The uncertainty stemming from your parents’ divorce can cast a long shadow over your own romantic endeavors, making it challenging to fully embrace the idea of marriage.
Not seeing your siblings
I grew up as a Jehovah’s Witness, and when my parents split when I was 8, my world took a unique twist. My mom left the religion, but my dad stayed, eventually meeting someone who was still a Witness. This meant that we had to be Jehovah’s Witnesses when we were with my dad and could be regular kids with my mom.
What’s even more complicated is that my parents let my brother and me choose who we wanted to live with. Please, as a parent, never pull this kind of decision on your kids. Asking an 8-year-old to pick who to live with is like forcing them to choose who they love more. My brother and I ended up going our separate ways, trading households every couple of years or so. The woman my dad met lived in Colorado, while my mom stayed in Nevada. So, although I had a brother, from the ages of 8 to 14, we didn’t see each other often.
Eventually, both of us had enough of being forced into a religion we didn’t want to be part of. We yearned to play sports, celebrate Christmas, and enjoy birthdays like normal kids. So, we both decided to stay with our mom throughout high school. It was strange to suddenly have an older brother again, and we often clashed. Now, at 29, we are just beginning to rebuild our relationship and spend time together like normal siblings. Growing up in a broken home, I didn’t get that true sense of family. My wife’s Mexican heritage showed me what a close-knit family can (and should) be, and it’s a beautiful experience.
The heartwarming blog post of a single dad
It is often claimed that children who experience their parents’ divorce may encounter difficulties related to attachment and trust in romantic relationships. There is certainly some truth to this – after all, it is challenging to develop trust in love and partnership when one witnesses intense conflicts and separations at home.
The effects of divorce on children are a widely debated topic, and there is evidence to suggest that it can indeed impact their ability to form relationships and their trust in romantic partnerships.
Billy Flynn
Billy Flynn from Boston, USA, lives separately from his wife, with whom he has two children. Despite their separation, it is of particular importance to him to be an exemplary father to his two young sons and maintain a good relationship with his ex-wife.
To achieve this goal, he made a gesture that probably not many men would do for their ex-partners: on her birthday, he showed up in the morning with a bouquet of roses and a gift. Instead of personally handing over the gifts, he gave them to his children so they could surprise their mother. In addition, he posted a heartfelt Facebook message that touched many people worldwide.
The blog post
With these words, Billy explains himself:
“Today is my ex-wife’s birthday, so I got up extra early and drove over with flowers, cards, and a gift for her, which the kids were supposed to give her. I also helped them prepare breakfast. As always, I was asked why the hell I still do so much for her. It’s annoying. So, here it is again for everyone:
I’m raising two young men. The example I set for them in how they treat their mother influences their own behavior towards women and how they navigate relationships. In my case, probably even more so, since we are divorced. If you’re not a good example to your children in how you conduct relationships, then get it together. Rise above it and lead by a good example. That’s much more important than your own ego.
Raise good men. Raise strong women. The world needs them now more than ever.”
