These thoughts kept her awake at night, robbing her of peace and sleep. She was haunted by the memories of how she and her son had been treated by his father and his father’s siblings. Her son, only eight years old at the time, was taken from her under the guise of his father wanting to be an involved parent. Instead, he was deprived of his mother for 14 long years. Not only was she denied the chance to raise her son, but he was also neglected so severely that he began to lose his sense of self.
He would go to school hungry, struggling visibly, yet the teachers and others who should have helped chose silence. Though those events were now in the past, and her son was 22, the emotional wounds remained fresh. What added to her pain was the fact that his father had seemingly faced no consequences for this abuse. Her son had been manipulated—coerced into thinking and saying things to hurt her—ideas planted and nurtured in him while under his father’s roof.
When he returned to live with her at 19, he was not the same boy she had known. He was thin, disheveled, and seemed to have lost any sense of self-care. Simple life tasks like cleaning his room or washing a plate were foreign to him, a clear sign that no one had ever taught him. He was withdrawn, afraid to speak openly about his experiences, as if convinced that telling the truth would only make things worse.
The abuse wasn’t just neglect—it was deep psychological damage. Her son had been groomed and conditioned to direct that pain toward her. It felt like she was enduring domestic abuse by proxy, with his father using their son as a weapon to inflict emotional harm. Even when her son lashed out physically, she struggled to hold him fully accountable—it was clear his behavior stemmed from years of manipulation. When he kicked her during an argument, he didn’t apologize or reflect—he called his father. Instead of guiding him to make amends, his father encouraged him to leave, ultimately placing him in a homeless shelter. It wasn’t just abandonment—it was calculated severance, designed to damage their bond further.
She had reached out repeatedly—to social services, to the police—but was ignored. Instead of receiving help, she was treated as the problem. Her son was kept isolated from her, denied the structure, love, and guidance she could have provided. While he was with her, his behavior reflected years of control and manipulation. After he moved out, the cycle continued, still fueled by the same forces that had torn him from her as a child.
Now, as a young adult, her son remained trapped. He struggled to hold onto stable employment or pursue further education, caught in a relentless cycle where hope was dangled and then yanked away. Each loss chipped at his confidence, leaving him more defeated. She saw the fingerprints of his father and enablers in this ongoing sabotage—how they had stripped him of identity, pushed him to reject his roots, and fed him lies about who he was.
She was tired—exhausted from years of fighting for her son, battling systems that seemed built to ignore her. Despite upgrading her skills and having years of professional experience, she faced inexplicable barriers in the UK. Her rent had been raised without warning, utility bills had surged without cause, and she felt as though unseen forces were working against her.
What hurt most was that her son still lived under the shadow of those who had harmed him. She was desperate to help him break free, regain his sense of self, and rebuild his confidence. She wanted him to thrive, to see his worth, and to know that her love for him had never wavered. He deserved to know he was capable, worthy, and strong enough to build a life beyond the grip of his father and those who had fed the cycle of control and sabotage.
But where could she go from here? What could a mother do to save her only child when authorities gaslighted her, and family seemed distant and indifferent? What was going on? How could she navigate this without the funds to hire a good lawyer or a genuine advocate?
Who would fight for her, if not God? She hopes that if her son ever reads this, she wants him to know: You were never the enemy. You were a child surviving the only way you knew how. I have always loved you, and I always will. It’s not too late to heal. https://amzn.to/44BDxjf
Written By Bess JT
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BessJT 
Wonderful ♥️
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