Browsed by
Category: Divorce

For the Fathers Separated from their Children on Father’s Day

For the Fathers Separated from their Children on Father’s Day

For many years, there was one moment in movies, at weddings, etc. that would inevitably bring me to tears and make me feel like someone had just stabbed me with a knife through the heart:  a father-daughter dance. Every time. Why? Because I was preemptively mourning something I thought I would never have. It hurts so much to watch someone else be happy enjoying something that you long for.

I am not a father (and never will be, courtesy of me being a woman and all), so I cannot directly share your pain of being away from your children on Father’s Day.  However, I do want to share what I encouragement I can offer from the other side. Because I have been a child separated from her father for so much more than just Father’s Day.

My parents divorced when I was a child. Prior to that divorce, I was your typical Daddy’s girl. I was my father’s little princess and he was my hero. The foundation of my life crumbled along with my parent’s marriage. The divorce was ugly, lasted for years, and ultimately ended with my mother moving my siblings and me 1500 miles away from our father and everyone we knew.

Years of geographical separation paired with resentment and bitterness fueled by my devastated mother caused an emotional alienation from my father. I went from being sad, to being mad, to never wanting to see my father again, to referring to him as my “sperm donor” and minimizing his impact on my life. At least I tried. And so I cried. Every time I saw a father-daughter dance.

The thing about parent-child relationships is that you can’t break them. You can’t ignore them. You can’t destroy them. You can’t try to run away and escape them. The blood bond is just too strong. Trust me. I’ve tried. So no matter what happens–whether death, divorce, abuse, alienation–whatever your story is, your child will always love you and want to be with you (even if their words and/or actions say otherwise at the present moment).

As a father, part of your job is to sacrifice for your children. It is unfortunate and unnatural that you have to sacrifice this way, but yet here you are spending [another] Father’s Day without the very child[ren] that qualify you to celebrate this holiday. And you have to bear it. You have to stay strong. You have to maintain a level head and also not resort to anger–against yourself, or your child, or their mother, or whoever you think may be responsible for the current divide. Sometimes it is your job to make the sacrifice. It is not fair. But no one said fatherhood was fair.

So, I’ve been a little depressing but I intend to encourage, I promise. If there is one thing I want to desperately say to you today it is to keep on loving your child[ren]. You are and always will be their Daddy. They love you. Love them. Love them with the unconditional love that parents were always meant to share with their children. And when they are angry and bitter and tell you that they hate you and never want to see you again, love them harder; because they need it all the more. Given your situation, you may have to love them from afar; but do everything you do as though they are watching you (because they probably are, or will be) and are looking for an opportunity to run back to you.

I married a divorcee. My husband has been separated from his children for years. It kills me to see the pain in his eyes, every day; because every day is a one more day they aren’t together. It is a crying shame, but has become a staple of our society (I have heard countless stories) for loving, able fathers to be alienated from their children. Please know that the children hurt, too. Your child may be caught in the middle of a tug-of-war with his/her mother and just trying to survive with the least amount of damage. Your child may have been turned against you by someone they trust and doesn’t know what the truth is anymore. Your child may be an adult who disagreed with you on something and just isn’t ready to admit they were wrong yet. So many stories, but they can all end well with the same approach–Love and open arms.

I want to close with a special photograph. And a thank you to my own father. I spent 15+ years of my life trying to eliminate my father from my life, reveling in resentment and bound by bitterness. I don’t know the extend of the pain I caused him; but I’m well acquainted with how much I have hurt myself. I couldn’t be more grateful or proud of my dad who, when I realized that I wanted and needed him, was waiting for me with open arms. Loving me the same way he did when I was a three year old little princess. After all of the terrible things I have said (and thought and felt) to and about my father, he loves me and continues to sacrifice of himself for me.

I sometimes mourn the lost opportunities for all the memories I could have had with my father over the span of the many years we were emotionally separated. However, I no longer preemptively mourn for things that I think I’ll never had. Life is too short, and suspect for change. Today will not inevitably be your tomorrow.

Enjoy today. Happy Father’s Day, Daddy! Reminisce of all the happy memories you have shared with your child[ren] and look forward to the memories you will create in the future. You will be reunited with your child[ren]. Focus on being ready by continuing to love them through the pain and keeping your arms wide open.

My Father-Daughter Dance

My father-daughter dance–that I thought would never happen–became a reality at my wedding. Thank you, Daddy. I love you!

Marriage After Divorce

Marriage After Divorce

I’m sure there will always be naysayers telling me how I don’t really understand divorce because I myself have never been divorced. I do understand divorce. And my entire life has been influenced and affected by divorce–my parents divorce. Getting divorced and being a child divorce are two different things. On top of that difference, each individual is affected differently by the circumstances of divorce. However, I submit to you that the underlying spirit that affects everyone in divorce is betrayal. When two people come together in marriage they make a commitment to retain that union forever. Divorce is a betrayal.

Betrayal – the breaking or violation of a presumptive contract, trust, or confidence that produces moral and psychological conflict within a relationship amongst individuals, between organizations, or between individuals and organizations. (Wikipedia)

People who get divorced usually feel betrayed. Most often they see that betrayal as adultery or another act but the divorce itself is also a betrayal. Betrayal by both parties. Your partner may have betrayed you when they committed adultery, but you also betrayed them when you walked away instead of getting to the root of the problem and working to resolve your differences – as you vowed to do “for better or for worse.”

What people don’t see is how divorce is a betrayal to their children. When we have children we don’t have elaborate ceremonies and make public vows to them promising to support them, providing for their physical and emotional needs. But it is implied. An implied contract. Parents realize their responsibility to their child’s physical needs and outsiders assume that is why divorces get so ugly, arguing over the house, custody, the children’s expenses–after all what decent parent isn’t doing what they feel is best for their child? What most parents (and outsiders) don’t see is the implied promise in the heart and the mind of a child that they will always be one family with the two people who made them. And you might think well I didn’t or couldn’t ever promise that! And that doesn’t really matter. A child inherently feels that way and consequently feels betrayed when that commitment is not kept. Furthermore, the high-conflict divorce situation cuts the betrayal even deeper as angry parents argue over physical needs while ignoring the emotional need of their child to continue fostering healthy relationships with both of their parents.

Another thing to keep in mind is that being betrayed and feeling betrayed are two different things. But are they really? When you feel betrayed does it not still create the moral and psychological stress that actual betrayal does? The problem that arises with children is that they have a more difficult time understanding and communicating their feelings. There is probably enough evidence to prove that divorce–in itself–is emotional abuse to children. Not that I’m saying I’m against divorce. Personally, I find staying in a failed marriage “for the kids” to be even more detrimental and abusive (but that is an entirely different blog). I just think it is very important for parents to be aware of their child’s emotional needs.

My parents divorce rocked the very foundation of my life. It changed my worldview and most specifically my view of people and relationships. Imagine one day your parents telling you that they made you because “Mommy and Daddy love each other very much,” then in the future being told “Mommy and Daddy are getting a divorce because they just don’t love each other anymore.” Imagine your view of love? Your view of marriage? Love is forever? Pffft! Marriage is sacred? Ha! Marriage is a commitment? Yeah right! It seems like marriage is more of a social stamp on love. Which is easily erased when you “fall out of” love. Marriage becomes disposable. Thousands of children everyday become hardened against marriage because of its disposable nature. I spent most of my life vowing to myself to never get married and to never have children that would inevitably be abused by this world. It took 20 years and a lot of turmoil for me to forgive my parents and to redefine my view on marriage.

A friend shared of blog listing the ways that children of divorce love differently. The thing that stood out to me the most was feeling “hard to love.”  That is a feeling I have spent most of my life trying to overcome. We expect others to love us as those we have dealt with previously (our parents). We believe that we will inevitably be betrayed, abandoned, etc. because we feel our parents did those things. And if our parents–our very flesh and blood–value us so little that they would treat us so poorly, why would someone who is not related to us (forced to be with us) want to be with us? If my parents don’t love me, how could anyone else ever love me?

I also vowed I would never marry a divorcee. Too much baggage. Too much hurt that I don’t want to relive. Too big of a chance for history to repeat itself. I also felt entitled to something bigger, something better then my childhood. Because of the bad hand I was dealt as a kid and because I’ve never been with anyone else, don’t I deserve something better? All part of the misconception I built in my head about marriage.

I did marry a man from divorce. And it is beautiful. We understand one another’s hurts and hesitations. We pass beyond sympathy to empathy. We know how to build each other up and are aware of what tears one another down. And I think we love harder because of divorce. It is possible to be like the Phoenix and rise from the ashes of divorce to something more beautiful than before. So to those of you divorce or entering the idea of marrying a divorcee let me encourage you today. Divorce is not an end. There is marriage after divorce. And it is possible to have the love we only see in fairy tales and to appreciate it all the more.

Who am I?

Who am I?

My story goes back several months to a Chamber of Commerce luncheon I attended, where circumstances lead to me sitting at a table with city officials, including an apparently very important gentleman receiving a lot of attention. “So, glad you could join us Mr. Senator!” Mr. Senator?!?! No wonder he is being treated like royalty! I continue to smile and converse with the people at the table, thinking to myself how I need to start paying more attention to the people in politics so I don’t find myself in these awkward situations where I’m eating lunch with someone important whom I don’t recognize. Come to find out this former senator, was none other than Hank Erwin–also a well known Christian evangelical broadcaster. I had to be the only person in the entire room who didn’t know who he was. (Can I justify my ignorance at all by stating that I am not from Birmingham? Maybe? A little bit?) Well, you know what, you ought to treat all people the same anyway. And we are on a level playing field, since he doesn’t know me either. Then, he turns to me and says those gut-wrenching words I so loath to hear, “So, who is Melissa?” It’s already painful when any random stranger asks me that. But someone of his stature, looking at me, and asking about who I am. What I do? What are my successes in life? Honestly, I wanted to climb under the table and wish this whole situation away. Who am I? I am no one. Especially by comparison to the people in this room. I’m the girl who strives for excellence in everything, but has nothing to show for all the heart I put into the things I do, because I’m always behind the camera. I graduated at the top of my class and was expected to be a phenomenal success, but I show more as a failure. I received a Bachelor’s Degree in filmmaking, at a local college, an hour away from where I grew up. I am an eternal dreamer, with reality gnawing at every fiber of my being as I go to work every day at a dead-end job which barely pays enough for me to make ends meet. I am the single 25 year old girl whom cannot build a lasting relationship, because all the men of authority in my past abused, abandoned, and rejected me. I’m the foreigner–born in Massachusetts, raised in Florida, and picked up everything and just moved to BIRMINGHAM, ALABAMA–of all places in the world–Just because I felt lead there. Wow. I am an emotionally damaged, professional failure, who is crazy enough to believe that I could find my purpose by moving to a new city–where I know no one (including public officials and local icons)–because a higher power prompted me to do so. So… which part of that should I say aloud first? I know. Right? *sigh* But hey, my job inspires me every day to sugar coat the crap life hands me… so, I smiled and said something. Blah. Blah. Blah. I don’t remember. Did it even matter? Funny thing is. It did. I mentioned film school and Mr. Erwin’s entire face lit up like a Christmas tree! I mean, usually I try to downplay my lost dreams of becoming a filmmaker because it is just another failure in my life. Really? I could have gotten an Engineering degree or a Computer Science degree and be living it up right now… but I studied FILM! However, Mr. Erwin didn’t for a moment look down on me for my choice of education. He was jubilant about my passion for the industry. And he went on and on about his two sons. How they were both filmmakers. Worked on music videos. Nominated for Dove awards. And are working on their first feature film. I was shocked and energized by this notion of someone seeing my dream, as that–a dream. Not a convoluted notion of something completely ridiculous to find success in. I was inspired. Felt guilty inside, for hiding who I am. Hiding behind what I deemed as failure and declaring my life dead and worthless. I could have talked with him for hours, I’m sure. But nevertheless, the rest of the room was waiting to have their moment with this powerful man. He left me with these words that continue to haunt me to this day, “Melissa, never give up on your dreams.”

It’s amazing to me how some people can come in and out of your life, saying few words but leaving such an incredible impression. That conversation is one of those moments in my life I will never forget.

Fast forward. (Yeah, nothing of great value ensued in this time. Didn’t try networking with the Erwin brothers; even though I found their Facebook pages and contemplating many times jotting a message to them, and pursuing them as friends… at least in the social media world. But, I’m a stubborn breed. Refusing to take assistance from others, and more importantly refusing to get ahead by who I know. Even though research revealed that the Erwin brothers also directed the most recent music videos of my FAVORITE BAND. How awesome is that?!?) Present day. My sister is going on and on about this abortion movie they are talking about on the radio. “I really want to go see it,” she tells me. I shrug it off. Phffft! Who wants to watch a movie with a political agenda. Definitely not MY cup of tea. “It’s a Christian movie,” she clarifies. Oh, Lord. That’s even worse. Imagine a Hallmark movie on steroids. It is sure to tug on your heart strings and demand you to not only suddenly feel abortion is the worst sin in the world; but that you need to go out and preach it to everyone! And I’m going to have to sit and watch cheesy actors overact a preachy message, which probably follows a scattered storyline with a pigeonholed plotline. (I like alliteration. Get over it.) “But the way they talked about it on the radio… I really want to see it,” she insists. So, I take a moment to research it. I’m pretty sure I was searching for an excuse NOT to go see this inevitable disaster of a movie, but instead I found a reason to go and see the movie. October Baby. The first feature length film written, directed, and produced by Jon and Andrew Erwin. Hey… That’s… Their movie. Local filmmakers, who filmed a local movie. Now I HAVE to see it!

Now, forget the abortion thing. It’s a coming of age film, which is entertaining with the precise balance of drama to comedy… This might be good. Oh, but the “Christian” stigma. Have you seen Fireproof?! Ugh. No. No. No. But these brothers… the Skillet music videos are awesome! My mind argued against itself. But at the end of the day. I have a heart for film. And I am going to support the local filmmakers. So, I went to the movie on that premise: knowing that the more people go to see the sneak preview release, the bigger the opportunity when they release it nationwide. I tried to hope for the best, but was prepared for the worst. (Which is kind of the same for all movies these days. Most Hollywood films aren’t worth the price of admission… definitely not worth buying a $10 bucket of popcorn.)

I ended up watching the movie alone. My sister was always working or out with her boyfriend. But she had made me curious, and I was going to see it before I missed the opportunity. Actually, I’m kind of glad that I did go alone. I had no idea how much the movie would affect me. (Yes, if you are an emotional being like me, you are going to need a box of Kleenex to make it through this film.)

October Baby is far from being a movie about abortion. It is a movie about forgiveness. The storyline of Hannah’s journey to overcoming the overdue truth revealed by her parents may not directly affect every member of the audience; but the message does. We all face struggles in our lives. The biggest of these is finding ourselves, being confident in who we are; and forgiving the people who hurt us along the way. Many times we don’t see how symbiotic those two components are. But the truth is that we can never truly be ourselves until we forgive those who have trespassed against us. That bitterness of unforgiveness takes root in our hearts and breeds resentment and hatred for others and ourselves. Before long, we feel worthless and lash out at everyone who cares for us, unable to build relationships, unable to strive for our dreams; and we don’t even know why! We search without finding. We feel like everything that happens to us is the end of the world. We don’t feel we have a purpose in this world. And it all started because someone who was hurting, unbeknownst to them, hurt us. Our world is caught in a vicious cycle of people hurting people hurting people. No one wants to step up and be the first one to say, “I don’t want to feel this anymore. I realize that you didn’t intend to hurt me this way, and even if you did, I’m forgiving you. Because I want to move on. I want to have faith that you can have relationships with people who don’t hurt you.”

This film hit me like a sack of bricks to the head. Abortion–that’s Hannah’s story. My story is different. Yet, everything that Hannah is feeling, I feel. Her wounds are highlighting my wounds. And her courage to stand up and be the “bigger person,” forgiving everyone who wronged her, cast a weight of guilt on my heart that I have been so stubborn and blind to have the strength to stand up and do the same to change my own life. Talk about making an impact.

I believe that film is a medium that speaks to people, because it speaks to me. My life is affected by things portrayed on the big screen. Not in the I-just-saw-a-war-movie-and-feel-the-urge-to-go-kill-people kind of way; but in the thoughts-presented-in-the-story-changed-my-way-of-thinking kind of way. We conform to our environment. It is why we have to be careful about what we say, choosey about who we keep company with, and confident in our purpose.

Since I was a child, I had dreams to change the world. I’ve been through many phases of how I was going to do that (from super hero to super model), but I always wanted to leave a lasting impression on the world. To be able to say, “I touched other people’s lives.” I don’t know where I found the confidence to think I was so important. While I was talented and involved in everything–honor student, community service volunteer, musician, actor, artist, Future Business Leader of America, dancer, costume designer, puppeteer, “IT guy,” sports guru, leader, etc.–I was wounded in a way I could never forget, and yet I tried to repress it. My parents got divorced when I was a child and in the wake of the destruction of their relationship I was emotionally abused and utterly lost faith in people. I lived my life trying to please everyone around me. Trying to be perfect in everything I did. Trying to vindicate my life by working without rest until I forced success on my life. And I never let anyone in my personal bubble because I was afraid. Afraid of rejection, abandonment, and abuse. Here I was, the girl with everything–talent, intelligence, beauty–and yet I felt no self-worth. I smile with my straight A’s as my teacher chooses to read my essay aloud to the class, as I am chosen to sing the biggest solo in the choir performance; but inside my mind was plagued with thoughts of suicide. Why?!? I have everything I need! I am perfect. I am who everyone wants to be. But it creeps in. You don’t even notice as your world becomes dark. You’re trying to repress the pain, but its swallowing you whole. And it is nothing you did wrong. It is all because of something someone else did. And even worse, something done to you, you don’t even know or remember. It is so much harder to forgive someone when you don’t even know that you need to forgive them.

I feel for Hannah because I was in the same boat. Different issues, but same obstacles nonetheless. My parents didn’t tell me everything that happened, didn’t relay everything that was important for me to know because they were trying to cover their sins, their mistakes, and their parents mistakes. But none of us can be free until we hear the truth! We can’t forgive unless there is something to forgive. But when we do come to the realization that everything in our lives wasn’t perfect. We have to set down the burden that is weighing on our hearts and take a leap of faith to offer up that forgiveness. To be the bigger person. To start a new cycle. A cycle of forgiveness.

That emotional connection is the greatest thing that can come out of a film in my opinion; but not the only great thing to come out of this film. It’s funny how the little moments in life add up to something great, sometimes. When my parents got divorced and all the family’s possessions were divided up, my mother somehow scored the family video camera my grandfather bought us. My father recorded family videos of every occasion. My mother, on the other hand, has a hard time turning on anything with a power button. Me? I could program the VCR before I could walk. And I loved that video camera! Granted I could only carry it for a few moments, and had to build “tripods” to set it up for long periods of time. Film has always been my favorite medium to tell stories. I do draw, paint, design clothes, play guitar, sing, design and write; but taking everything I do and putting it together… creates an unmatched feeling of success. I wrote scripts, drew storyboards, got all the neighborhood kids to act, designed sets and costumes, etc. It was my world to escape from the one I was in. And my way to express myself. Tell my story. I would later go to film school. And build my own PC designed specifically for video editing.

October Baby made me reflect on my life. And inspired me to follow my own dreams. To me, filmmaking was always a hobby. And an incredible waste of my college education to “study” it. But it is a passion I cannot get rid of. But I don’t want to struggle to make lame independent films no one sees. And I don’t want to go to Hollywood to sell my soul to please someone else. I never saw an outlet for my passion. But the Erwin brothers found it. And I’m inspired to follow in their footsteps. To be a part of something like October Baby.

The cinematography is gorgeous in this film. It’s not a home video shot by amateurs. Some of the shots took my breath away. Alabama has never looked so good. The acting was phenomenal. Every one of the actors seemed to embrace their role and live it; it wasn’t a cheesy production made with whoever close happened to make it to the shoot. The script was well thought out. Words chosen to make an impact without straying or rambling about unnecessary elements. The difficult to achieve balance between drama and comedy was spot on. This movie had me balling my eyes out, and yet left goofy one-liners in my mind I’ll be repeating forever. It was nothing I thought it would be. But, everything I could have hoped for. A message with the potential to touch and change lives; but without being “preachy” or “hokie”. It finished and I wanted to watch it again. And the most touching thing for me to see was watching the credits as more than half of the audience still glued to their chairs watched the names of those people involved in the creation of this film roll across the big screen. I love that. If my name was on that list, I’d want everyone to see it, too. And it’s touching to see an audience that cares about who and what went into the production of a film. I probably sound like I’m gushing. But I was completely caught off guard at how much I enjoyed this film. A diamond in the ruff of the film industry today. I hope that when the movie is released widespread in March 2012 that people go out to see a great movie. Forget the hype about it being “anti-abortion,” forget the idea that it’s a “Christian” film so it must be “preachy” and horribly acted. It’s a great movie. One worth the inflated theatre pricing.

Every life is beautiful; sometimes we need to hear the story of others to be assured of the beauty of our own. My challenge to you, is go watch the film and note that beauty. Find the courage to ask yourself, “Who am I?” Be honest with yourself. You are not your circumstances. It is what you do that defines who you are. Not your title or your career, but what you DO.

Who am I? I’m a writer. I am a daughter of God. I am chosen. I am an artist. I am a creative dreamer. I am a story teller. I am my talents. I am my future. I am Mel Sigrist; and I am a filmmaker.


Note: This is an archive post originally from my Faith & Filmmaking blog.