Parental Alienation: When Love Is Turned Against You
By Ryan Richard Thompson | Disruptarian.com
Some topics don’t get talked about until it’s too late. Parental alienation is one of them.
This isn’t just some academic phrase. It’s not a theoretical debate or a hashtag activism trend. This is real. It’s raw. And for those of us who’ve lived through it, it’s personal.
For me, it started long before the divorce was final. Long before courtrooms and custody schedules. It began with a whisper—a subtle threat buried in an argument: “If you leave me, I’ll turn the kids against you.” At the time, I brushed it off. I thought: she wouldn’t actually do that.
I was wrong.
By 2015, I’d started documenting. Not because I was paranoid, but because I was watching it unfold in real time. What I thought were isolated incidents—undermining comments, subtle sabotages of father-child time, twisting of narratives—were actually coordinated tactics. I didn’t know it then, but I was in the middle of psychological warfare. And the battlefield was my children’s perception of me.
The Slow Burn of Alienation
Parental alienation doesn’t happen all at once. It’s not a bomb—it’s a slow leak. It starts with missed phone calls, awkward silences, passive-aggressive texts. Then it morphs into your child echoing things you know you never said or did. Suddenly, you’re a stranger in your own family’s story.
In my case, it took years to recognize the full scope. I filed for divorce three times between 2014 and 2020. Each time I hoped for reconciliation. Each time the same patterns resurfaced. The emotional blackmail. The positioning as a victim. The subtle but deliberate erosion of my bond with the kids.
During one of our reconciliations, my son moved in with me for four months. I saw flashes of the kid I knew: joyful, curious, full of energy. But after returning to his mother’s care during the pandemic, things changed. Quickly.
The Projection Game
One of the darkest moments came when my ex-wife claimed that not only was I misogynistic—but that our son was, too. Her “evidence”? That he didn’t want to clean his room and suggested his sisters do it instead. That’s normal sibling banter. But it was reframed as a sign of toxic masculinity, allegedly passed down from me.
Let me be clear: my son is one of the most diplomatic, honest young men I’ve ever met. That narrative wasn’t him—it was a projection. A way to villainize both of us with a single brushstroke. And it worked. It became part of the case against me in the court of public opinion, if not the legal one.
This is what parental alienation does. It rewrites reality. It inserts a false script into the minds of children and convinces them they wrote it themselves.
Weaponized Communication and Family Court Failures
When co-parenting turns into courtroom strategy, every message becomes a minefield. Normal texts get twisted into accusations. Emails become “evidence.” And don’t get me started on court-appointed experts who don’t understand alienation at all. Some of them do more harm than good.
I eventually found an attorney who got it—someone who had seen this before and knew how to present it in court. I requested a custody evaluation with a psychologist who understood these dynamics. It wasn’t cheap. But it turned everything around.
Still, even with evidence, logic, and expert support, the process was grueling. The system wasn’t built for this. Most judges have no idea how subtle—and how devastating—parental alienation can be. They expect bruises and broken bones. What they miss is the slow crushing of a child’s spirit when they’re forced to reject a parent who still shows up, still cares, still fights to be there.
Losing My Kids, But Not My Integrity
I’ve watched my children change in ways that break my heart. My daughter is now taking testosterone. And let me say this clearly: I support my kids. I want them to live as their authentic selves. That’s not the issue.
What keeps me up at night is the context.
These changes didn’t happen in a vacuum. They occurred in an environment where I was systematically excluded from major decisions, conversations, and care plans. I wasn’t part of the discussion—I was the scapegoat, the “unsafe” parent, the emotional outsider. I had become a stranger to my own children, not through absence, but through erasure.
And that’s the essence of alienation. It doesn’t just rob you of your kids—it robs your kids of you.
Why I Wrote the Book
Out of all this pain came something unexpected: a mission. I wrote my ebook, Truth, Integrity, and Fatherhood: A Life Examined, not just to vent or rage—but to document. For myself. For my kids. For the other parents going through this silent war with no name.
Because when your children grow up—and they will—they’ll start asking questions. And when they do, I want the truth to be there, waiting. Not angry. Not bitter. Just true.
Moving Forward, Not Giving Up
Every now and then, I still catch glimpses of who my kids used to be. In a voice, a joke, a random memory. And it reminds me that they’re still in there somewhere—beneath the noise, beyond the narrative.
I haven’t given up hope. But I’ve stopped putting my life on hold for it. I’ve built new routines, found new support systems, and leaned into the fight for awareness. Because this isn’t just about one family—it’s about thousands.
Parental alienation isn’t rare. It’s just rarely acknowledged.
Let’s Shine a Light
April 25–26, 2025 is Parental Alienation Awareness Day. Wear a blue ribbon. Share your story. Talk to your lawmakers. Post about it. Host a meetup. Do something—anything—to let other parents know they’re not alone.
And if you're walking through this fire right now, let me say this: Document everything. Don’t retaliate. Stay consistent. Keep showing up.
You may feel powerless now, but your steady presence will outlast the lies.
Read the book:
👉 Truth, Integrity, and Fatherhood: A Life Examined – Free eBook
Listen to the full episode:
🎙️ Disruptarian Radio: Parental Alienation – The Silent War on Fathers
If this resonates, share it. We fight back by refusing to disappear.
— Ryan Richard Thompson | Disruptarian.com