I Was Too Scared to Seek Child Support After My Divorce

An abusive relationship leaves lasting fear

The day I moved into my new one-bedroom apartment with my son, relief washed over me. I had wriggled from the claws of my controlling ex-husband, free from the clutches of a traumatic marriage, free from four years of feeling trapped, afraid, and miserable.

It took a lot of emotional work to get over the guilt of breaking up my family. But in the end, I knew it would be better for my health — and ultimately, better for my son — if I left.

Despite my newfound freedom, there was still uncertainty. My son and I had lived with my sister rent-free for six months, so I was able to save up the deposit and first month’s rent for the new place.

But I knew I was in for a long road. One full of not only emotional hardships, but also financial ones. I knew I’d have to make rent every month. I also had medical bills from my anxiety disorder, a car that wasn’t paid off, several nearly maxed-out credit cards, and all the typical living expenses.

I also knew I’d made my husband terribly angry when I ran to my sister’s place with my 23-month-old son in tow. I’d left him simmering in a stew of rage, rejection, and the lingering effects of an upbringing that taught him divorce was an unforgivable, one-way ticket to hell.

Asking him for money to help support his son wasn’t really feasible at that point — not when I knew he would do everything in his power to keep this divorce from happening.

Prioritizing was the only way I could make my new life work as a 23-year-old single mother and college dropout who was running for dear life.

First — physically extricate myself from the toxic relationship.

Next — let the ex calm down and come to terms with my leaving, however long that takes.

Lastly — move on to all the legal details of divorce, custody, and child support.

Financial struggle wasn’t as scary as my ex-husband’s unpredictable behavior

Making $9.25 at my full-time daycare job and $10.25 at my weekend pizza gig (making pizzas pays more than keeping people’s children alive and well — who knew?) wasn’t cutting it. Some months, I barely scraped by. Most months, I put groceries or gas on my credit card. I had to because the amount I received for food stamps every month covered maybe one week’s worth of groceries.

Many months I had to pick a bill to not pay (most likely one of the credit cards) and put that money toward a more urgent expense. It became a juggling act, shuffling money around to put out the biggest fire in that given moment.

Being a single mom below the poverty line was beyond stressful, but going after my ex-husband for child support was the greater of two evils. Technically and legally, it was an option — but in every other aspect, it wasn’t.

My refusal to seek support wasn’t a point of pride or stubbornness on my part. It was fear, honestly.

I was scared.

The trauma of our marriage was fresh in my mind and body. He’d always been angry, manipulative. Mentally and verbally abusive beyond any relationship I’d ever experienced with a man.

• He once called the cops on me when, on a night where our fighting was particularly volatile, I took my son and crossed the state line to spend the night at my dad’s house.
• He once gave me an STI and told me it was from being naked with another woman, but that they hadn’t engaged in sex.
• He once told me he’d have to be alone for the rest of his life if I left because a divorced and remarried person goes — you know — to the fiery pits of hell according to his strict Catholic upbringing.
• He once hid my laptop so I couldn’t write, but not before reading a Word doc I’d written up about the time I thought he might have raped me.
• He once hid my car keys so I couldn’t drive to my part-time job and save money to possibly leave him (but I ended up riding a bike and making my shift).
• He once threatened that, legally, he could take my son away from me if I left, since I was on psychiatric medication.

Just getting out of there seemed impossible. Just accomplishing that seemingly impossible feat felt like I had conquered the world.

And it’s not that I didn’t test the waters when it came to child support. Once I had settled into my new place, I texted my ex to talk about it. He made more money than I did. And since I would have our son for 5 days every week, I would have the bulk of the financial expenses while raising him.

Not surprisingly, he informed me that he’d go to jail before he’d pay it, and it would be my fault for sending my son’s father to prison. I believed he was stubborn enough to follow through on that promise — but that wasn’t the only reason why I decided not to get the state involved in my case.

I believed my ex was capable of being selfish and stubborn enough to evade child support, yes, but I also believed he was capable of more. I wasn’t sure how much more, but I sure as hell didn’t want to find out.

All I knew for sure was that he’d make my life as difficult as possible, however he could if I pursued the money.

Not everyone supported my decision

When I was able to enjoy a coffee or drinks with two of my girlfriends, we’d sometimes complain about the financial struggle of being in our early twenties. At the time, these were my two very best friends. The women I could talk to about anything.

But one of them would always put pressure on me to get that child support.

“It’s not for you, it’s for your son,” she’d say passionately.

She was so passionate about my need to make child support happen, in fact, that I’d feel miserable with guilt. I’d feel like a failure for not getting that added support for my son. Was I depriving him? Was I not doing enough?

Then I’d explain to her my reasons. Or my “excuses,” as she likely saw them. I shared with her the wild strings of thoughts racing through my mind while I tried — and failed — to sleep.

He might try to manipulate my son against me on the nights he had him. He might take him for the weekend and not give him back. He might fall deeper into drinking. And, in the most extreme case, he might try to take my son, move away, and not tell me where they went. He might commit suicide. Hell, he might get so tired of my shenanigans that he’d hire a hitman and finally get rid of the woman responsible for all his troubles. After all, according to his religion, you’re damned for all time if you get divorced and remarry someone else. But murder was a one-time thing you could, technically, go to confession and be absolved of…

After that, we’d quickly move on to another subject.

I don’t mean to be overly dramatic. And I’m not saying I truly believed that my ex would hire a hitman or maybe do the dirty work himself. I’m a pretty self-aware person, and I realize that this is most likely a result of my paranoia after being emotionally tortured by this guy in a marriage from the age of 19 to 23.

But, what I am saying, is that I couldn’t totally dismiss it as a possibility, based on the extremely unpredictable and unstable behavior I’d witnessed whenever we argued — which was a lot.

Basically, I felt safer not poking that bear. I preferred other options, like selling my shit for cash, going further into credit card debt, finishing college, and eventually seeking a higher-paying job.

$8,722.32

This was what I owed on just one of my credit cards (the one with the highest limit) before I finally started making enough money to stop using it.

I’d built up this hefty sum first during college and marriage. We always put large purchases, like a new washer and dryer, on my card.

After separating from my ex, I’d often lament my situation to my boyfriend at the time. He was making more than I did, but he couldn’t help me out much. Nor did I expect him to. The reason behind his financial struggles was ironic, however, because he was paying a large amount in child support for his teenage daughter from a previous marriage.

He wanted to help take care of his child financially, and I have to say, it made me a little jealous. He was a much better ex-husband than my ex-husband. Saner. More well-adjusted. More in touch with his emotions — and possessing none of the cruelty that my ex was capable of.

Now, over ten years later, that boyfriend is my husband. And I still owe about $7,300 on that credit card.

They recently upped my credit line to almost $11,000. Like I want to ever fall into that trap again. I’m finally able to make more than the minimum payment every month, but I probably should be paying even more than I am because of the astronomical interest. Even though paying it off is technically the financially smart thing to do, I don’t want to hand over all of my savings to make it happen.

Who knows when I might need that stash for a rainy day?

I definitely have some fear left over from my past financial struggles as a single mom. I mean, it’s still a struggle, but it’s a manageable one now. I’m not afraid of how I’m going to pay for the next grocery bill anymore, but I’m terrified of going back to that point, so I’ve become a bit of a miser with my money.

We’re all just doing our best as parents

If you have a friend who is very dear to you, and who is going through a nasty divorce, please don’t make them feel guilty about their choices if they are just trying to do what works best.

And please don’t judge a newly single mom for either pursuing child support, or deciding not to pursue it. She’s already going through enough, and you don’t have to live in her situation — but she does.

You can be kind in giving advice (when asked), but if she doesn’t agree or doesn’t want said advice, simply offer support and understanding.

We are all just trying to do the best we can as parents. I didn’t do everything perfectly when I ended my marriage. I’m still not a perfect wife. I’m certainly not a perfect mother. And I’m definitely not a perfect divorcée.

But I’m doing the best I can, and my son knows I love him more than anything. That means the world.

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