In October of 2015, I encouraged my son Liam to approach a girl he recognized from high school. He was readjusting to civilian life after four years in the military. Asking Tara out was the worst mistake of his life.
By November, he was telling me how horrible her home life was with her parents. I told him to be supportive. Tara had an older sister that was the golden child of the family, could do no wrong, everybody’s favorite. Tara spent her school years being the good girl, doing well in school, dating the sons of her parents rich friends. It was never good enough. And then Tara’s sister came out as gay and their parents disowned her. The family rift was still pretty new and raw. Tara talked about her mom to Liam, to me, painting a vivid picture of a wine-swilling, judgmental, overbearing bitch. In hindsight, Tara was using Liam to get her parents’ attention.
By January, Tara was spending more time at Liam’s place than home with her parents, and they were starting to get into yelling matches. I told him to be kind, that Tara had to make her own decisions. Liam had dinner with Tara’s parents a few times and would get into arguments with Tara later about her refusal to cut their toxicity out of her life, or at least give them less control over her. We couldn’t understand why she resisted.
By March, Tara was pregnant. I told him to think it through, that he had some decisions to make that would affect the rest of his life. Tara, he said, had told him she was on birth control. Okay. Accidents happen. We learned just before my grandson was born that was a lie.
By May, the fights were getting worse. I told him to be patient. Every woman experiences their pregnancy differently. My pregnancies were relatively easy, but Tara was miserable. Liam was fully there for her, trying to do all the right things. What he would not do, despite intense pressure from Tara’s family, was marry her. Having a baby is never a good reason to get married. The decision not to get married was the best decision he’s made in his life.
By July, the fights were so constant that Liam spent more and more time away from home. I told him to try harder. We learned a year later during the custody hearing that when he was home, she was instigating fights and then recording them on her phone. She had a plan.
By September, things had calmed down. I told my son to be grateful, that everything would change once the baby was born, once Tara’s hormones normalized, once they had a new person to be responsible for. Everything did change. Our lives got exponentially worse.
I counseled patience, kindness, tolerance. I encouraged him to welcome this monster into our family. Well-intentioned though my advice was, I’ve lived with the guilt for too long. It’s time to repair the damage she’s inflicted.