From Survival to Strength

There is a moment in life when the veil finally lifts; when you realise that the person you once trusted and built a life with is not who you thought they were.

For me, that moment marked the beginning of a long, painful, and ultimately transformative journey.

When my daughter was just three and a half, our lives changed forever. I left a marriage that had become emotionally destructive, choosing self-love and self-respect over fear and control.

I chose myself: my dignity, my sanity, and my daughter’s future.

Back then, I thought leaving would bring freedom and peace. But the reality was far more complicated.

Since the divorce, my daughter has lived in a world of duality: two homes, two completely different parenting approaches, and two adults who cannot agree on the most basic principle of meeting her needs.

In those early years, boundaries were rarely respected. Trying to co-parent with someone who does not share even the basic understanding of what it means to truly act in the child’s best interests has been one of my greatest challenges.

It has been over seven years since the divorce, and yet the conflict persists.

I have spent the past two years in Court, representing myself without a solicitor, standing before judges who —thankfully— saw through the chaos and sided with what was best for my child. Twice, different judges recognised the validity of my concerns, because my case was never about “winning” against my ex. It was always about protecting my daughter.

But sadly, acknowledgement in Court does not always translate to peace in life.

The Impact on My Daughter

Now, my daughter has to cope with frequent home-to-home transitions on school days; something that, for her, carries a significant emotional toll. While many children around the world move between two homes after divorce, what makes her experience especially challenging is the lack of consistency between households, the completely different rules and expectations, and her heightened sensitivity to change as a child on the borderline of ADHD and ASD.

These transitions are not just logistical; they disrupt her sense of safety, stability, and belonging, at an age when she is already navigating the complex emotional ups and downs of pre-teen years.

I see her confusion and her exhaustion from having to adapt to:

• Two homes with opposite rules
• Two parenting approaches that couldn’t be further apart
• Two adults who don’t see eye-to-eye on what “best interests” really means

This isn’t what a loving childhood should look like. But it is our reality.

She has been learning, since far too early, what it feels like to be caught in the middle. And as her mother, my heart aches every time I see her frustration, her longing for understanding, and her desire for consistency.

What Has Changed for Me

For a long time, I believed that if I just tried harder, if I just “explained better,” if I just found the “right words,” he might see what was best for her.

I was wrong.

It took years of heartache and wasted energy for me to understand and accept this truth:
It is not my responsibility to educate or change him.

I cannot control his behaviour, but I can choose how I show up.

I cannot shield my daughter from every storm, but I can be her safe harbour when the waves hit.

I cannot erase her challenges, but I can equip her with the tools to stand strong in her truth.

What I Now Choose

Today, I no longer waste energy trying to convince someone who doesn’t want to see.

Instead, I focus on being the best mother I can be: loving and supporting her through every phase of her life.

I choose to ground myself in self-love, self-acceptance, and inner strength.

I know my worth. I know my limits.

I no longer seek validation for the countless sacrifices I made out of pure love for my daughter (from breastfeeding her when it was always “an issue” in my marriage, to choosing a Waldorf education over luxury for myself).

Even if every effort I’ve made is dismissed or diminished by those who will never understand, I know the truth:
I have done everything in my power to raise my daughter with love, integrity, and courage.

What I Hope for My Daughter

My deepest intention now is to teach my daughter what I had to learn the hard way:

• How to stand up for herself, even when it feels uncomfortable
• How to recognise manipulation and control for what they are
• How to use her voice, because it matters — and she matters
• How to know that she is deeply loved, no matter what

To Every Mother Walking This Path

If you are walking a similar path: feeling unseen, unheard, diminished… please know this:

• You are not failing because you left. You are rising because you chose yourself.
• Your worth is not determined by those who refuse to see your sacrifices.
• Your child will learn from your example, not from your pain.

One day, they will understand the love, courage, and strength you carried for them.

You are allowed to speak your truth. You are allowed to take up space. You are allowed to choose yourself — because when you rise, so does your child.

I am still in the middle of it all: the threats to return to Court, the endless emails, the exhausting negotiations, the unnecessary chaos.

But today, I stand more grounded than ever.

Because I know who I am.

I know what I stand for.

And I know that choosing self-love was not selfish! It was the bravest thing I could do for both me and my daughter.

💌 Your Turn

If you’ve ever had to stand up for yourself or your child in the face of relentless opposition, I see you.

Your courage matters. Your voice matters. You matter.

What has helped you stay strong, grounded, and connected to your worth?

What was your turning point — the moment you decided that enough was enough, and that you would no longer shrink to fit someone else’s version of you?

Your voice matters — for you, for your children, and for every woman who has been silenced.

💬 If you feel called to, please share your story with me. I would love to read your reflections in the comments.

With love,

Kizzy