Yesterday was supposed to be a joyful milestone: my son’s first day back at school after the summer holidays. He had been bouncing with excitement, jumping up and down, thrilled to ride the bus and see his friends. For a child with some social interaction challenges who has been attending counselling during the summer, this was a big step forward — a moment of growth and hope.
But instead of a day filled with stability and celebration, it became one of the most traumatic experiences my children and I have endured yet as a family – on par with the armed police being called for domestic violence except this lasted longer as an event.
An Agreement Ignored
I had an informal agreement with the school principal: if my ex-husband, who is facing multiple criminal charges, came to the school, they would call me immediately. They cannot legally prevent him from seeing our son, but they could at least ensure I was notified. Yesterday, that agreement was broken. No call was made. Instead, he was allowed unsupervised access.
A Six-Year-Old in Police Hands
What followed was heartbreaking. My son, only six years old apparently after being alone with his father for several hours told his father things that led to him calling the police – bear in mind that his father had just been informed that I had arrived at the school so he had to leave due to his bail conditions. So I was forced to leave the school without my son and his father then took him to the police station for an interview with police and child protection services. The session started around 4:00 p.m. and didn’t end until close to 6:00 p.m. — it was about an hour and a half of questioning that no child that young should ever have to endure for false allegation charges. Don’t get me wrong I am 100% behind children who are abused being able to be interviewed however the manipulations of a father for his own advantages are heinous.
The Handover Ordeal
The handover was worse still. For 30–60 minutes, my son had a complete emotional collapse — screaming, crying, hitting, reduced to guttural noises. Instead of easing his distress, his father prolonged the moment with lines like: “I love you so much, I’m sorry, you have to go back to your mum now, hopefully I’ll see you soon.”
It wasn’t about parenting. It was about creating a scene. My friend, who was present, was so disgusted that she stepped in and told him to stop. Only then did it move forward.
Minutes later, once my son was in her car and away from his father, everything changed. He spotted a tractor trailer, laughed, pointed, chatted away. At Dairy Queen, I have photos of him laughing and giggling with his sisters — a complete turnaround that showed the truth. The trauma was not leaving his dad. The trauma was being left with him.
That night, he couldn’t sleep alone. He woke repeatedly, terrified I would leave him.
Waiting and Wondering
While my son was inside being questioned, I sat outside with three crying children who had already been through so much. We were told to stay in case child protection needed to speak with them as well. Every minute dragged, filled with their tears and my fears and all of us running scenarios of what ifs in our heads.
I could not stop wondering whether the justice system — which has let me down so many times before — was about to let me down again. Would I be facing false charges? Would the truth be buried under manipulation? Would my life and my children’s lives be changed completely and irrevocably, all because of a lie? Would my son be going home with a known abuser who has threatened to kill one of his other children? How much damage could be done to his emotional state in the time that I would be powerless to protect him?
That waiting was almost as traumatic as the events themselves. It was powerlessness in its rawest form.
The police did call me back – they will not be pursuing any charges against me. The case is closed but could be reopened if new allegations are made. They will not however even tell me what the allegations were……
The Girls’ Pain
This wasn’t just about my son. My three daughters were shattered. My eldest sobbed, my middle child raged, and my youngest daughter — who is already terrified of her father — broke down completely. They begged me: “Mum, what can I do? Can I go see my brother?” And I had to admit I was powerless. I had no control, no say. We just had to “wait for the justice system.” It was devastating.
My youngest daughter in particular was retraumatized. Because of restrictions preventing contact with me and my other girls, my ex even requested that she be the one to collect her brother. She was so terrified she refused, and the police had to be told she couldn’t do it. This is what manipulation looks like: forcing the most vulnerable child into the most terrifying position.
Why Now?
This wasn’t random. On Friday, there is a court motion for access to my son. In August, the judge deferred the decision until reports from child protection and the children’s lawyer were available. Those reports aren’t back yet. My ex has already waited all summer. If this was about parenting, why not wait two more days?
Because it wasn’t about parenting. It was about strategy. If my son had repeated something coached, and charges were laid against me, there would have been an automatic restraining order preventing me from contact with my son. For him, this would have been gold in court — a ready-made argument to take custody away from me and avoid stricter consequences for his own criminal breaches.
This wasn’t about love. It was about building a false narrative for the courts.
The Fallout
The result is that my son’s first day of school — a day that should have been joyful — was ruined. He went from bouncing with excitement to clinging to me the next morning, saying “I don’t want you to leave, Mum.” I had to physically put him on the bus. That’s the damage one selfish act caused.
And my daughters, already scarred by years of trauma, were retraumatized yet again. We all walked away from yesterday battered, shaken, and left to hope that this time, the system sees what’s really happening.
Closing Reflection
I do not abuse my son — although he sometimes calls me “mean” when I restrict his YouTube watching, put him in timeout, or refuse to let him eat a third box of strawberries in a row and insist he brushes his teeth. There was no evidence that I abused him because I don’t. In fact, I have worked incredibly hard to help him improve his behaviour, even though it always goes downhill after visits with his father.
I have already walked two of my children through trauma counselling and suicidal thoughts. I am still working on my youngest, who insists she does not need counselling, yet cannot bear to be near men — even male teachers in school. She has not fully shared what her father subjected her to, and she may never. I cannot force her into therapy she refuses.
I have also changed my legal team — I fired my old lawyer and now have a new one. This week, they have asked for an adjournment in family court. At the same time, the criminal case management for the child abuse charges against my ex is due in a few days. I am hoping we will finally get a trial date instead of yet another case management session. He also faces charges for breaching his bail conditions a month ago.
The outcome of that bail breach will no longer be mitigated by false claims against me, because no charges were laid. He cannot use me as a scapegoat to soften his own consequences. Whether he faces a fine, house arrest, electronic tags, or jail time, I am realistic — the system is rarely severe enough. But at least this time, he cannot argue that I am barred from my son.
It is a small measure of justice in a system I often feel cynical about. But it means my children’s truth is still intact, and he cannot twist it to his advantage.
And now, in just two days, we will finally have some answers on the first of the nine criminal charges he faces. Let’s hope that he does not find another way to twist the system to gain yet another advantage — at the expense of his children.
