Shedding the Shackles

Being trapped in the world of alienation is a lot like walking around with invisible chains all day—they’re heavy, they’re binding, and they’re a constant source of bondage. Because of this, I’ve always been haunted by what I’ve lost in the past. I’ve often thought about the memories that were never created. The milestones I never got to be part of. Those simple, ordinary, everyday moments that were stolen from me—they’ll never be recovered.

Most folks would naturally assume that—with my children fully grown—the alienator’s spell would’ve finally been broken by now. But in truth, it’s not, and unfortunately, they’re still trapped. While they no longer live under the alienator’s roof, they’re nonetheless still held—mentally and emotionally—inside a narrative that was created by endless lies, manipulation, false memories, and who knows what else. Much like a lot of other alienated children, or in this case, adult children, they’re afraid. Afraid of facing the truth. Afraid of confronting everything they were robbed of.

To the outsiders looking in, they’ll never comprehend how heartbreaking it is to live through this kind of suffering. Or how the deepest sting we often feel comes from the silence of those who simply stood by and did nothing. People who could have helped—who could have intervened. But instead, they turned a blind eye, leaving me to fight this battle alone, and all the while pretending that life was normal.

These days, as I look back, I still feel a certain sense of sadness. But I also feel something else—clarity—real clarity. Because I can’t keep waiting for a magical “if” moment to appear. I can’t continue hoping that the lightbulb of truth will somehow suddenly flicker on over their heads and they’ll come running back to me, like nothing ever happened. Sadly, that was only a dream, and without doubt, it became one of the heaviest shackles I’d ever worn. In fact, it nearly crushed me.

Fortunately, those days are now gone, and I’m not that person anymore.

Instead, I’m a realist. I’m also a survivor. And I’ve learned to recognize the strength I hold in my own two hands—I have the power to break the shackles that kept me tethered to a past I was once unable to change. At present, I still don’t have my firstborn daughter or my stepson in my life. And it’s possible that I never will. But in their absence, I have been graced to have two other children who love me, who need me, and who look to me to be the kind of parent my other kids never had the chance to have.

They are my purpose in life and always will be.

And in choosing them—and choosing myself—I’ve managed to shed the shackles that once defined who I am and who I will later become. I no longer live life bound to the pain of all my yesterdays. Though I have to admit, the memories of the past still visit me every once in a while, often without warning. But they no longer control me like they once did. At least, not anymore.

Though I’ll always have a certain level of hope that my other children will one day see through the veil of deception and find their way back, I no longer feel chained to that particular outcome. Instead, I’ve chosen to move forward with my life, but not with shackles around my ankles and wrists I once had, but rather with an open heart that’s ready to receive whatever my future may bring.

David Shubert