The harsh guitar chords of Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” drift down the stairs from my 16-year-old daughter’s bedroom. I sigh, hurting for her. I know why Sophia has had that song on repeat lately, and it has nothing to do with the crappy boyfriend she’s never had.
I don’t have to ask her about the song. I had my own revenge anthem as a teenager: “Just You Wait, Henry Higgins” from My Fair Lady, which I turned on whenever I was angry at my dad. Now, my daughter is dealing with some of the same complicated feelings I had about my father, along with challenges I never experienced myself.

When You Can No Longer Be the Buffer
My ex-husband was particularly hard on our oldest daughter. For two years, he refused to let Sophia do anything during his parenting time—which meant every weekend and essentially all her free time. She wasn’t allowed to get a job, see her friends, or attend events because that was “his” time with her.
On one occasion, she was a few minutes late getting ready for pickup, and he yelled at her about it for the entire 30-minute drive back to his place. After her younger sister’s birthday, Sophia sent me a pages-long rant about how her dad had gotten her sister exactly what she wanted but refused to buy Sophia the gift she had asked for because he wouldn’t shop at the store she liked. Another morning, when she grunted at him for waking her up for Mass, he slammed his fist into her shoulder.
Even when my ex-husband and I were together, I often found myself mediating between them. Sometimes I could temper his strictness or reason with him to change something Sophia was unhappy about. A few years after our separation, she told me that, because I was no longer there when she visited her dad, she felt she had nobody standing between them, helping them get along.
That comment has stayed with me. For years, I had tried to smooth things over between them. Now, I was learning that I couldn’t always do that for her—and that perhaps my role needed to change.
Let Her Lead
As a mom, it’s tempting to tell my kids, “This is what you need to do.” That approach might work with my younger children, but teenagers need room to find their own paths. This is especially important when they have a parent who already tries to control their choices and limit their freedom.
I have my own opinions about my ex-husband’s behaviour, how he treats our daughter, and what I think she should do about it. But I try not to push those opinions on her or make those decisions for her. Instead, I listen when she rants about her dad and acknowledge that what she’s describing sounds frustrating and disappointing.
As a woman who has also been badly treated by the same man, it’s tempting to join in the ranting. But that doesn’t actually help my daughter. At other times, I’ve tried to defend her dad, explain his actions, or encourage her to be glad that he wants to spend time with her. That doesn’t help either.
I’ve learned that I can validate her frustration with her dad’s behaviour and acknowledge that she wishes he were different without badmouthing him myself or trying to talk her out of her feelings. I don’t have to agree with everything she says to let her know that I’m listening and that her feelings matter.
So I listen. I use responses such as “That sounds really upsetting” or “You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.” These affirm her experience without telling her what she should think about her dad.
When she’s finished venting, I ask what she wants to do. Of course, I have my own ideas here (RUN, like I did!), but this is her relationship, and I want her to have a voice in deciding how to navigate it. I remind her that she has options, that she can ask for help, and that she doesn’t have to accept bullying from anyone—not even a family member.
I want her to know that she is strong and brave, and that I will support her even when she makes a different decision than I might have made. I want her to know that my love is not conditional (as she already knows her dad’s love is). Even when she chooses differently than I would, I want her to know she can always come to me and tell me how things went.
For a long time, Sophia tried her best to maintain a relationship with her dad. I listened as she agonized over how to balance his demands for time with her friends’ needs, her own commitments, and her desire to earn money. Together, we brainstormed ways she could do both. I spent hours driving her back to his place after late-night babysitting jobs because he would only agree to let her work if it wasn’t inconvenient for him.
I couldn’t make the relationship easier for her, but I could help her think through her options and support her in making choices.
During this time, I made sure she had other adults supporting her as well. I helped her find a therapist and facilitated her therapy appointments. When Sophia told her therapist that her dad had struck her, her therapist told me she would be reporting that to the authorities. Sophia also had a good relationship with a father and daughter at our church who understood our situation and were willing to support her. She knew that, if she ever needed a place to go, their door was open.
When She Chose to Set Boundaries
Then, one day, she showed up at my place and told me she wasn’t going back to her dad’s.
I told her she needed to communicate that decision to him, and then I made her supper. I also informed him of her decision, and together we dealt with the barrage of threatening emails he sent us. I made safety plans with her. I didn’t tell her I asked some good friends at church to keep an eye out for us when we went to Mass that morning in case her dad showed up to cause problems.
We also talked about what to do if we encountered him at events. Again, I left this with her: “What do you want to do if Dad comes? What do you want me to do?” I wanted her to know that we could plan for difficult situations without letting the possibility of seeing him dictate every decision we made.
Carolyn, another single mom with a teenage daughter, took a similar approach. She told her daughter, “It’s important for you to have a healthy relationship with your dad, but it’s up to you and your dad to build that relationship. If he’s not up to building that relationship, then you’ve given him opportunities, but now you need to set boundaries. If your body is telling you that he’s not safe to be around for extended periods of time, then you know it’s okay to say no. Our job is not to make other people happy.”
I appreciate that distinction. We can encourage our children to have healthy relationships with their other parent, but we cannot build those relationships for them. We can offer opportunities for connection, help them navigate difficult interactions, and encourage them to set boundaries. We cannot make another person treat them well.
Teach Her to Trust Her Body
Children often respond instinctively to what their bodies tell them. When they’re hot, they pull off their sweaters. When they’re angry, they might yell or stomp their feet. As they grow older, they learn more appropriate ways to respond to those feelings.
But when a parent is a source of fear or distress, children can become confused about their own instincts. Their bodies may be telling them that something feels wrong, while their understanding of family tells them that this person is supposed to be safe. Over time, they may learn to ignore their discomfort or doubt their own perceptions.
As I help my children navigate their relationship with their dad, I encourage them to pay attention to their bodies and emotions. After Sophia sees him at a school event or doctor’s appointment, I might ask how she’s feeling. I want her to pause and notice what she’s experiencing rather than immediately pushing those feelings aside. Sometimes I ask, “What is your body telling you?”
If I notice her pacing, stimming, or showing other signs of stress, I gently point them out. We might talk about what she needs to help her nervous system settle. Does she need some quiet time, a snack, a walk, or a chance to talk through what happened? We also discuss what she needs going forward. What boundaries might help her feel safer? What would make a future interaction easier, if she chooses to have one?
I’m not trying to teach her that every uncomfortable feeling means someone else has done something wrong. I’m trying to help her recognize her own responses, take them seriously, and decide what she needs.
I also want her to understand that she doesn’t have to put someone else’s comfort ahead of her own safety. She can care about her dad and still feel angry with him. She can miss him and still need distance. She can want a relationship with him and still decide that certain interactions or situations aren’t good for her. Those feelings can coexist. She doesn’t have to resolve all of them at once.
And when she tells me how she feels, my job isn’t to talk her out of it or explain away her dad’s behaviour. My job is to listen, help her make sense of her experience, and remind her that she can trust herself.
Navigating Family Court and Parental Alienation Accusations
By the time I left my ex-husband, I’d spent years trying to help him become a better dad and husband. In many ways, I hoped that leaving would make it clear that he needed to change if he wanted to maintain healthy relationships with his family. I also hoped that, with the courts looking over his shoulder, he’d make more of an effort to be a better dad.
Unfortunately, I learned that neither separation nor court involvement necessarily changes a parent’s behaviour. I watched my ex-husband continue to treat his children badly, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they began making their own decisions about how much contact they wanted with him.
Sophia put up with his controlling behaviour and bad moods for three years before she finally said, “Enough.”
Her dad immediately accused me of parental alienation. Eventually, we went to court because he was preventing her from participating in numerous activities unless she agreed to talk to him. Even missing a fun weekend event at school wasn’t enough to convince her to resume contact.
In court, I was able to demonstrate I’d done my best to encourage her relationship with her dad, mostly using text messages between myself and her dad and between myself and Sophia. At 16, Sophia was also old enough to clearly explain why she no longer wanted to see him. And we had his own threatening emails, which helped demonstrate the behaviour behind her decision.
The court granted me sole decision-making responsibility for her. She hasn’t seen her dad since.
Navigating family court while supporting a child who no longer wants contact with a parent is complicated. You may be trying to respect your child’s wishes, protect their well-being, and leave the door open for a healthy relationship, all while facing accusations that you’re the reason that relationship has broken down.
For me, the most important thing was that I could show I hadn’t made this decision for my daughter. I’d listened to her, encouraged her to consider her options, and supported her as she worked out what she needed. Ultimately, I wanted her voice to be heard and her experience to be taken seriously. My job wasn’t to make her maintain a relationship at any cost. It was to support her, advocate for her well-being, and help her navigate the choices available to her.
Giving Our Children Room to Find Their Own Way
When I hear Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” drifting down the stairs, I wish I could take away my daughter’s hurt. I wish I could give her a dad who listens to her, respects her choices, and makes her feel loved and safe. But I can’t change who her dad is or how he chooses to treat her.
What I can do is help her trust herself. I can listen when she’s angry, let her grieve the dad she wishes she had, and remind her that she deserves to be treated with kindness and respect. I can help her explore her options without telling her what to do, and support her boundaries even when they’re different from the ones I might choose for myself.
Most importantly, I can make sure she knows that she doesn’t have to earn my support by making the choices I want her to make. If she wants a relationship with her dad, I’ll help her navigate it. If she needs distance, I’ll support her in that, too. And if she changes her mind tomorrow, my door will still be open.
We can’t control the relationships our children have with their other parent. We can’t make that parent change, and we can’t protect our children from every disappointment. But we can give them a safe place to land, help them recognize what healthy relationships look like, and remind them that love doesn’t require them to abandon themselves.
Sometimes, the most important thing we can do as mothers is step back from trying to fix the relationship and stand beside our children as they find their own way through it.
Please note: If you’re navigating a similar situation, I strongly encourage you to consult with a therapist and a family lawyer who understands domestic violence and coercive control. Every family situation is different, and laws vary between states and provinces. What worked for my family may not be the right approach for yours.
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