Before moving to Bend, Oregon, in 2005, my life was far from empty. I had been living in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.

In 2003, I left Pacific Grove, California, to move as far away from my former husband. I felt that if I didn’t leave, I would die, one way or another.

Leaving my daughter, who had just graduated high school, was agonizing. I couldn’t tell her what was happening; I didn’t dare. She was living blocks away from me with her dad.

In Idaho, I dedicated countless hours to launching my dream company, Horizon Family Solutions. The work was compelling, cutting-edge, and even fun.

I often spent ten to twelve hours daily in my office, including weekends.

This routine was incredible until it wasn’t. Industry criticism began, and I started experiencing panic attacks. Reality began to warp in unsettling ways. Despite this, I persisted. I didn’t care if others believed in me; I was determined to stay, and they could avoid me. What could they do about it?

I kept facing people and showing up, undeterred by the challenges. Compared to my past, this was nothing. Over the years, I made what I thought were some fantastic, dear friends. I’ve come to accept that the best thing we can offer the world is our soulful selves. For better or worse, I stayed in the industry for 30 years.

Before moving to Oregon, I hadn’t taken great care of myself. My daughter, 18, then visited me in Idaho for Christmas, compelled by her father. She didn’t want to be there. All I wanted for Christmas was to be with my daughter.

He was determined to see me fail, but his words kept me going—”The best revenge is success.”

My daughter and I went shopping amid dazzling Christmas decorations and lights. We also took a boat tour of the lake and had dinner on the water. I spent too much money, wanting to spoil her and ease my guilt about leaving. For a day or two, she seemed happy.

I thought, “My God! My daughter is finally going to accept me.”

I hoped she could see and feel how much I loved her in those few days together. She had no idea about the trauma her father had caused in my life, and I never told her.

Just two days before she was to return to California, where she lived with her dad, I started coughing and wheezing. Trauma often masquerades as physical ailments.

On the day I was supposed to drive my daughter to the airport, I couldn’t get out of bed due to bronchitis.

I had to call her a taxi, and I felt so empty after she left.

However, I also experienced clarity and joy when she attended a therapy appointment with me during her visit.

This brought a significant and unavoidable awareness of reality.

During my next visit, the therapist mentioned that parental alienation is a form of emotional child abuse that can have devastating effects on a child’s life. It can cause psychological and emotional distress and create a false impression that a parent is dangerous or has rejected the child. The therapist felt that this was impairing the relationship with my daughter. Parental alienation is a particular family dynamic that can emerge during divorce, where the child becomes excessively hostile and rejects one parent. This hostility can involve transgenerational dynamics, which evaluators and family court judges should know.

In our case, because I was being emotionally abused and traumatized by my former husband, I didn’t speak about anything at all. No one knew.