The Vacation That Became a Motion
The children had a scheduled vacation for July, with father-approved permission to visit their grandparents in Maine for several weeks. They flew up ahead, and I followed by car with our two dogs, since flying wasn’t an option.
Because of storm-related flooding, it took me longer than expected to arrive, but when I finally did, it felt like relief. The stress lifted. The constant surveillance and tension were gone.
The boys thrived in that environment. One spent hours outside, completely uninterested in screens for once. Another was content with his books and occasional play. My oldest found his footing again, back in familiar rhythms. None of us wanted to leave. That was when it became clear: Maine needed to be home again. If not for all of us full-time, then certainly for me.
The Motion I Saw Coming
Per the marital settlement agreement, significant decisions—such as relocation—are meant to be discussed before resorting to the courts. So I initiated the conversation in good faith. I thought it could be handled reasonably.
Instead, there was silence. No discussion. No attempt at resolution. Only a sudden filing: an “emergency” custody motion.
For what? I had never withheld communication. I had never withheld the children. I hadn’t even listed my condo yet. The only thing I did was state the truth: I could no longer sustain life in Florida and needed to move.
It was disappointing, but not surprising. Soon after, the child was retrieved from Maine with extended family present. Even law enforcement, involved at the handoff, expressed regret at how the situation unfolded.
At that point, the pieces were moving. The board was shifting.
The Judge’s Call
Shortly after returning to Florida, I filed a request for protection against another party who had been escalating behind the scenes with harassment, threats, and cyber-related conduct. The request was denied.
That same afternoon, my phone rang. The caller ID showed the judge himself.
Confused, I answered. I already had legal counsel, why was he calling me directly? He asked where I was and what I was doing. When I explained I had just left the courthouse and was grabbing a late lunch, he replied, “Well, that’s strange.”
I thought, well sir, this is AWKWARD.
Something clicked. I asked why he was calling. He admitted he was already on a Zoom conference with the other parent and their attorney. I explained again that I had counsel, and that I had never been notified of any hearing.
Before ending the call, he warned: if I did not immediately turn the child over, I would be held in contempt, facing up to 180 days in jail.
The Echo Chamber
Not long after, another party reappeared with emails.
“Karma is a biiiiiiiiitch #180”
“Good luck in Maine. Wish you the absolute best, you drugged-out cock carousel.”
“Enjoy jail, because that’s where you’re going. Jesus, you’re delusional.”
Interesting choice of words. The same “180 days” threat, the same derogatory phrasing I had heard before, now repeated from multiple directions. The overlap was too precise to ignore.
The language, the timing, the tactics…it all revealed itself as more than coincidence. It was a coordinated echo.
Disclaimer:
This blog reflects my personal experiences and perspectives navigating divorce, custody, and the family court system. It is not intended as legal advice or factual testimony in any ongoing or future proceedings. Names, dates, and details are shared as part of my story. For legal guidance on your own situation, please consult a licensed attorney.
