single parent – Millennial Mom

Justice for Ilya: A Disheartening Fight for Truth

My beloved Ilya, despite the fatigue I feel in my spirit and the pain that I feel in my heart, I will never stop fighting for you. #Justice4Ilya

By now the Millennial Mom community and friends near and far know of the tragic loss of my dearest love Ilya Pakanayev. December 24th, 2022 was the three year anniversary of Ilya’s death. Although I have hoped and believed that my pain would decrease with time, this year has felt extremely painful. It was likely worse than the pain that I felt on the morning that I received that shocking call and my mourning commenced. This is because I have spent much of 2022 in torment; battling what I wanted for myself and my family as it relates to the fight for Ilya, against the opinions of others. I made the decision in November of 2022 to bring light my late husband’s case for the sake of seeking justice and the full truth. I have traumatically relived the happenings of day one, lost hope in humanity learning new details about Ilya’s case, and I live in a state of confusion daily trying to navigate where to turn next. With many things so uncertain at this time in life, the only thing that I know with great certainty is that I will never stop in my fight for #Justice for Ilya.

From restaurant tables to bathroom stalls, everywhere I go, I’m sharing Ilya’s story. I’m grateful to supporters who have joined in this mission. Spreading awareness is our greatest hope at this time.

If you are unaware of Ilya’s story, in short, he left home on December 23rd, 2019 and never returned. He was traveling from our home in Monticello NY, to his parents in Forest Hills, Queens NY. It was the second night of Chanukah but Ilya never made it to his destination. He was ultimately found in the a.m. hours on Christmas eve, unconscious in a driveway in Southside Jamaica Queens. Upon receipt of a call providing only the details “Ilya’s dead”, I instantly knew that something was very wrong in Ilya’s case but genuinely trusted that authorities would figure it all out. As things stand today, I was naive and wrong in my beliefs. When I went to identify my love at the Queens Medical Examiner’s office, it was there that I learned that Ilya’s case was a criminal investigation.

Detectives later arrived to inform me of the strange happenings in Ilya’s case. I was told that my beautiful husband’s lifeless body was viewed via doorbell camera footage, being carried by two men and dumped in a residential driveway. According to detectives the men were identified and authorities were waiting to interview them. Our family was ultimately told that an investigation was underway and we would be provided updates as developments unfolded. Anxious and desperate for the truth, I called the police precinct persistently for updates hoping that new answers would come promptly, due to the early developments in the case. Week after week, from December of 2019 to March of 2020, when I reached out to the police department, I was told that the case was still moving forward. And then COVID-19 hit and the world went mad. Ilya’s case was passed through different investigative divisions within the NYPD and to the hands/desks of different professionals. Around his birthday in May of 2020, I called the police precinct only to learn that his case had been “closed months ago”. My heart sank and my mind went blank. What came next was more indicators that there was more to Ilya’s case than I had initially thought. This discovery led me down a very dark and lonely road, trying to raise my children while my mind played out traumatic scenarios day after day. I attempted to ignore my grief and in doing so I developed what is known as prolonged bereavement. Ilya’s story has caused me to experience PTSD symptoms. With all of this I have still found the will to go on. Now when people ask how my only answer is “by the grace of G_d”.

Your love and beautiful soul has left my life forever changed. It taught me many lessons including ones about life in general and how to love myself first.

I have found it necessary to take two plus years to process my pain; a task which looks different everyday and a process that will continue for the rest of my life. Through this journey I had to discover my own healing regimen in efforts to best cope with my new reality. This had to be a top priority before I could dedicate myself to fighting for justice for Ilya in a healthy way. In November after feeling tired, disappointed, angry, and desperate for answers, I sprang into action, launching a social media campaign to bring awareness to Ilya’s case. It was 12 long weeks of foot work, completing a long list of responsibilities every single day. New discoveries that came to light during this time were eye opening and disheartening at the same time. And although I believe that I made new strides unlike I had ever made in the past, the words, attitudes, violation of my family’s privacy and wishes, and a complete lack of concern for humanity were more in my face than ever before as I was pursuing this fight, relying on social media. In a situation such as my own, the coldness of the world was too hard to ignore.

Ilya’s resting place in Wellwood Cemetery

Where things stand today, my heart is broken and the hope that I have for humanity dwindles every day. It is thanks to the earthly angels who walk with me through this life and the divine, that I find more strength to keep on in this mission; especially on the days when I am truly ready to give up. I am grateful for the advances that I was able to make at the start of this campaign, with the support of friends, family, and new supporters via our GoFundMe dedicated to raising money for a private investigator and an independent medical examiner. I am thankful to News12 reporter Blaise Gomez for covering Ilya’s story and bringing light to the injustices in his case. And lastly, I am thankful for everyone who has checked on me and supported me through this very painful process. At present, I have strayed away from social media as a tool in this fight. Maybe in the future I will return there. For now I have realized the importance of finding another way. I have been writing for grants to help families like my own, continuing outreach efforts with the team that has joined me in doing so, and relying on my more intimate communities for support. More than ever before I need to redefine and redesign a tribe. Through this pain ridden movement I learned who my tribe truly is.

As always, I wanted to share my truth here to reach anyone who can relate to my pain. I also turn here with hopes that anyone who wishes to connect with me, will reach me. Maybe you’re a widow or a widower too; maybe you’ve suffered a tragic loss; maybe in some area of your life you’ve lost hope; or maybe you’ve realized that your tribe needs some redesigning and through my story you’re reminded that it’s a reality for not only you. Whatever the case, you are not alone and I live to be a resource and supporter to people like us. If you’re reading this today and are drawn to support the #Justice4Ilya campaign, here is how you can help:

1. Donate to and or share our GoFundMe link

2. Participate in outreach efforts by emailing info@justice4iLyaPaka.org to receive info cards via mail that you can distribute in your community

3. Join an upcoming call to assist with sourcing grants or to help brainstorm other ways to reach our goals (email above contact for details)

4. Follow us on Instagram @Just4iLyaPaka

*** These are the ways in which I am currently asking for support in this mission to get answers in Ilya’s mysterious death. I ask that any other effort be discussed with me prior, due to the nature and sensitivity of our situation.

I hope that this write reaches the eyes and hearts of whomever it needs to reach. Sending love and positive energy to my Millennial Mom supporters all over the world and I ask that you keep my family in thoughts and prayers in a similar way. Stay tuned for my next writes including one titled:

My Prayer for All of the Forgotten Ones

There is so much new content waiting to be published here and through my continued dedication to writing, I show my followers who turn to this blog for inspiration and hope that you are never forgotten. Until next time…

xoxo,

Tea

Millennial Mom

My Dearest Love Ilya (Pt. I)💔

For 5-years, you brought me flowers every chance you had. After our nuptials, it became routine on Fridays before sundown. On the day that I returned the gesture, your smiling face and warm hands were unable to receive them from me. Here I stay, carrying on without you with a broken heart. Ilya, I.L.Y.A., I’ll Love You Always, forever your wife 😢

It’s been 678 days since I last blogged! Life has been relentless… with trial after trial happening to, I mean for me. Maybe you know by now or maybe this write will carry some new news. Whatever the case, the last 477 days have been the most torturous and painful days of my existence.

12/24/2019 was the worst day of my life. On that morning, I answered a call that no wife should ever have to receive. “Ilya is dead! And so my journey of mourning commenced. My dearest love Ilya was found deceased on a street in NYC and no one had any answers. In efforts to not relive that moment again, I will refrain from describing it now. As I try to healthily work through the mountain of emotions that plague my mind daily, I’ll keep the details about my love’s death out of this piece and future writes until I’m better. What I will say is that my heart is shattered, the world has been so unkind, and I was pushed to find a new way to survive alone; without the one person who I believed to be my person… my soulmate, the man I would live out the rest of my days with. I guess the heavens said otherwise and here I stay trying to cope.

Unless you walk this walk of grieving the loss of a spouse, you could never fully understand it. It gets ugly, competitive, territorial, unempathetic; creates a feeling of doom for the people who live it and discomfort for those who watch. It becomes increasingly painful and downright lonely. As a griever, I felt that I was out of sight and out of mind for months. As Ilya’s wife, I felt that my grief was often measured and viewed to be not as bad as the parents or relatives. “But he was my son”, “but we knew him longer”, “but this is not your culture” “but your daughter is not his daughter”… just a few of the dismissive and insensitive comments that met me days into my grief journey. Forced to learn a culture I did not grow up in, without my dearest love to guide me; judged because of the color of my skin and my customs; excluded for reasons that were purely evil; embarrassed; humiliated; blamed; lied on… shall I go on? I could continue but the energy escapes me each time I recount the last year and half of my life. As the one living this new existence, it initially seemed that it was my burden to carry and no one else could fathom what I felt. Most people went back to their daily routines and old habits minutes after my love’s young but tired body was placed in the ground. My children and I were left stuck in a painful place in time where it felt like life was not worth living.

October of 2019… family photos at a beautiful home in the country when life seemed grand and our hearts were full. We had no clue what was about to shake our home in the holiday season of 2019 💔

I one day decided to find an improved and healthier way to grieve after my “mini me” said to me “mom please do something to feel better, I hate seeing you like this.” Her voice triggered something within me and maternal instinct helped me realize that my pain was harming my children. I knew that I had to save myself and my children because no one was coming to be our savior. The one person that consistently gave us unwavering love and protection was now gone. Today I find myself in a new and unfamiliar place. I am vulnerable and learning this version of Tea now. Each day I dedicate small amounts of time to journal this journey as my story will one day be told in full detail. For now, it carries so much pain that I am only capable of blurbs and rambles. There is so much to share about losing my dearest love from receiving the news, to a messy police investigation, to the burial and religious process, to the COVID-19 impact on the investigation and grieving process, to family scandal, to the mass exodus of friends, to signs from Ilya; and the path to healing my soul with my children’s gentleness and love, and Ilya’s love and spiritual guidance from beyond the veil. I have compiled my thoughts, painful experiences, and letters into what will be a book published in 2022, titled Grief Games: A Widow’s Story of Pain & Abandonment (part 1 of a 5 part series). I have also shared my story via different platforms including Instagram (@amillennial_mom) connecting with people who can relate and those who sit in shock. My children, writing, meditation, faith, and social connection with new souls has been my saving grace during this time.

I never saw this day coming… the death of my love or the aftermath. After 477 days without my dearest love Ilya, his life, our life, this life makes so much more sense. Although I continue to grieve, I can say that I have pulled myself out of the darkest time in my life and continue to work daily to find the light. This will indeed be a process for the rest of my life and I will share my story to help at least one person through the process of surviving the death of a loved one. It is very clear to me now that many people fail to survive the grief journey for it is torturous, unpredictable, lonely, dark, and unending. In my case, I’m convinced that I have found strength to carry on with my love watching over and Hashem guiding the way. For I now see light (hope) at the end of this dark place and commit to waking up every day to finish this race. My pain and struggle are not in vain and my experience is for me and for someone else to learn and grow from. Even with a shattered heart, I am dedicated to doing what I have been called to do: bring healing to masses.

A beautiful gift that holds some beautiful memories… it is a designated place for our littles to write their feelings when they are ready. It will soon hold A’Bree’s first publication… *Dear Papa* 💜

I’m not sure what is to come next… in life, for this blog… anything. But I am working each day to just get through each moment. As I can and when I can, I will share more of our story. Until then, I commit to healing my soul so that I can heal my children, so that together we can spread an abundance of love and healing to the world; just like Papa would have wanted us to do. There are one too many hurt people hurting people these days and our life story and grief journey is symbolic of that. Stay tuned for the continuation of this series. Until next time….

Love & light to the world,

Tea

Navigating the Family Court System pt. II: success as a self-taught lawyer

After my finances put me in a position to no longer afford an attorney to represent me in my custody/visitation battle, I had to really get creative. I was often fearful that representing myself as a layperson could put me in a position to lose my case due to my limited knowledge about law and legal procedures. However, losing was not an option for me as I felt that I was fighting for the well-being of my little one. So I prepared to continue navigating the family court system with the help of resources such as YouTube, Google, legal websites, blogs, and a movie or two with a major court scene. While the opposing side in my case was led and advised by a legal professional with a degree, years of work experience, and a formal education in the area of law, I was at a disadvantage lacking all of that. However, I was bound to be successful in my case as a “self-taught lawyer” and that is just what I did.

A face of resilience, dedication, and intelligence often underestimated. The cover to this book vaguely depicts whats underneath… never judge.

For several months, I spent endless hours preparing for my trial date on evenings after work and even on weekends. I would be busy researching how to present evidence in court, how to address the judge and court personnel, and learning what I was allowed to say and what I was not. I would watch clips on YouTube from court scenes where I closely examined attorneys, took notes on the types of questions they asked and the ways in which they would ask them, and admired their confidence. I read legal websites with information on family court cases and took advantage of their “frequently asked questions” tabs. I reached out to attorneys in my neighborhood who provided free legal services and met with them to discuss my case. I used their feedback to tailor things in my case where necessary. After extensive research and studying, I began intensively applying what I learned to my own case. I reviewed the timeline of events that I created and made sure I had evidence to support what I was saying (phone records, text messages, police reports, etc). I created an outline which included a strong opening statement, when to call for witnesses, and when to present information to the judge. I prepared a list of significant questions for “Parent B” based on some of the accusations he outlined in his petition; and based off of knowing him as a person and being able to predict the things that he is likely to say. Some questions included asking “Parent B” to share the telephone number he would call when he wanted to speak with A’Bree; a list of his addresses for six years; information pertaining to our little one’s academic and extracurricular activities; proof of support he provides for her; a timeline of his visitation schedule; etc. After this step in my preparation process, I started practicing for trial day with the help of close friends, my mother, and my older sister. Everyone laughed that I had labeled myself a “self-taught lawyer” but were impressed when they listened to the case I had built. They commended me for the work that I put in and my mother always commented that not even a trained lawyer would have gone to the lengths that I did for the best outcomes in my case. I often agreed with my mom because who knew my story better than I did? and who would be able to present it as passionately as I could? The answer is no one and the only issue for me was overcoming the fact that conversations in the courtroom would be much different from the ones that I had at my dining room table. My presentation would be everything and was a very important part of the case. I must admit that I was worried however, after months of planning and doing extensive footwork in my case, I was beginning to feel more and more confident. Trial day would ultimately determine how prepared I truly was and would prove whether or not the work I did was useful.

Court Binder — Every I dotted and every T crossed! My biggest resource in navigating the court system… my “story book”.

Trial day finally arrived for me in the summer of 2016 and I made sure to show up and show out. As I prepared to head to the courthouse, I was certain that my hair was sleek and I was dressed in one of my Sunday’s best. I had my documents and trial outline ready to go and I was prepared for whatever was going to come. After things in the courtroom took off running, it was evident that all parties underestimated me and were not prepared for the circles I danced around “Parent B” and his representation. Their opening statements argued that I had denied “Parent B” parenting time with A’Bree in the form of visits and phone calls. As a result, they requested that I be held in contempt of court for my actions. In contrast, my opening statement affirmed that “Parent B” had only been denied parenting time following irrational and inconsistent behavior placing myself and my “mini me” in danger. I made sure to highlight that he was known to frequently disappear, known to behave dangerously in the presence of A’Bree, and known to not provide child support as ordered; leaving the responsibility of caring for our daughter and transporting her to visits to fall solely on me. I informed the court that what I was alleging would become clear after I presented all my evidence, questioned “Parent B”, and called my witnesses. I was as confident as I could ever be and happy that one of my biggest supporters was sitting in the courtroom and watching my performance; my uncle Terry.

Unc 3 — A man who has always made me laugh, been there for me whenever I needed him, and proved the saying “it takes a village to raise a child” correct… My Uncle Terry.

Unc — My uncle Terry and his beautiful family!

On trial day, “Parent B” and his representation had the opportunity to present their arguments first being that they were the petitioners. Their presentation was relatively short and I wondered why “Parent B” decided to bring a case against me with such little support and evidence for what he was arguing. However, I was ready to share the truth and I had people and documentation to back me. After “Parent B” took the stand and stated that I kept our child from him and wanted me to pay for what I had done, I had the opportunity to question him. This is when the circus began and when my “self-taught lawyer” skills came into play. In response to “Parent B” ‘s argument that I denied him visits with A’Bree, I read him a list of dates that I had kept track of in a journal where I allowed him to see our daughter and asked if he recalled them; he reported that he did. In efforts to challenge his statement that I denied him phone contact with our little one, I asked him to provide the court with the telephone number that he would call in order to speak to A’Bree however, he was unable to do so and stated that he deleted the number. I then presented him with text messages that he sent to me a few months prior to the trial date, asking to re-enter a sexual and romantic relationship with me; he acknowledged that the texts in fact came from him. When I asked why he texted me more concerned about a romantic relationship rather than building a relationship with our daughter, he commented that he still loved me and wanted to have more children together. When I questioned him about incidents where he failed to return A’Bree back to my custody after visits, he denied such occurrences and it was perfect timing for me to present police reports. Lastly when I highlighted occasions when he behaved aggressively and irrationally in the presence of our daughter, he did not deny it. What had unfolded in the courtroom to me was a clear indicator of “Parent B” ‘s mental health and instability. There was nothing more for me to argue as his testimony said it all. Following my questions for “Parent B”, the court called for an adjournment at the request of his attorney. I took it that they needed time to discuss what I had presented in addition to “Parent B” ‘s inconsistent responses. I took the opportunity to converse with my uncle who had been watching the show and to regather myself for my testimony and witnesses when trial resumed. It was evident that I was leading in the case based on my consistency and preparation. “Parent B” on the other hand was very much unprepared even with legal representation and the inconsistencies in his story were countless.

Following the adjournment in my case, I called my mother and older sister as witnesses to the stand; two people who have observed several occasions where “Parent B” behaved irrationally in the presence of our daughter and subjected me to abuse. My mother descriptively noted times where “Parent B” verbally assaulted her, failed to return my “mini me” back home, and moved to and from new addresses in short spans of time. She argued her interest to assure that my little one saw her father but also discussed her concerns about how such a relationship has been harmful. After she stated her peace she left the courtroom. Next came testimony from my sister about her experiences with “Parent B”. She too detailed his history of aggression and unstable behaviors. She even retold the story of a time when “Parent B” locked me in an apartment after assaulting me and she came to my aid along with police. After she left the stand, it was my turn to share my experiences. I came prepared with dates when “Parent B” moved and was unable to be contacted; a list of multiple the times where he cancelled scheduled visits with poor reasoning; times where he assaulted me in the presence of my baby girl; times where he threatened to harm me during visit exchanges; and dates where my daughter requested to call home or be returned home during a visit and he denied her. It was such a relief to present the truth and prove to the court that I was not the spiteful and vindictive mother that “Parent B” had painted me to be. The truth was that I simply saw the instability and dangers that he posed to our little one and wanted him to work towards bettering himself before building a relationship with A’Bree. I made what I believed to be a reasonable request to the court and asked that “Parent B” ‘s home be inspected before visits could take place and asked that he undergo a psychological evaluation and participate in treatment if needed. I looked into the eyes of his attorney as I made these requests because “Parent B” hung his head throughout the course of my testimony. His attorney’s eyes said much more than words could have. As I stepped down from the stand, although tears fell from my face I felt free. After months of fighting in the courts, facing hardship, and waiting for a resolve I had spoken my truth. It was now a matter of waiting and hoping that the court would make a determination that was in the best interests of A’Bree.

mom, sister, and Bree — My rock despite rough times, the matriarch in our family, the woman who I look up to, the woman with a story not much different from mine, and the woman who gave me life and helped me through hard times… My mama.

After trial ended, A’Bree had an opportunity to speak to the judge along with her attorney. Although I had gone through this tumultuous court battle for months, I kept her ignorant to what was happening. The questions from her following her interaction with the judge and her attorney were overwhelming however, I was happy that I did not have to expose her to what was actually going on. She immediately understood and her maturity was a blessing to me during this time. She shared her thoughts and feelings with the court and when it was over we, waited for the court’s decision and tried to recover from the process.

In November of 2016, I received the court’s decision and it was a relief to learn that I had come out on top. It was decided that A’Bree would remain in my custody and visits with “Parent B” would resume following a psychological evaluation, drug screening, and his participation in anger management. Truth had prevailed and after months of fear and anxiety I had successfully navigated the family court system and reached success as a self-taught lawyer. Although this is still where things stand today, I understand that I can easily find myself back in the family court in the near future. However, I am content that I was able to share my story and grateful that other, reasonable adults saw what I have experienced for the past six years. Every day I pray for “Parent B” to one day be in a place to be the best for our little one. In the interim, I am healing and working to move forward with my life. I am continuing to find myself, prioritize our happiness, and provide my baby girl stability and all the things that she has ever dreamed of. This experience has taught me many lessons that I will always apply in life when things are tough, when doors don’t easily open, and when I am in need of something that I must work hard to get. I vow to also teach my little one the same.

No matter how old she gets, I will forever be her rock and she will always find comfort in my arms.

Thank you for taking time to read my story! I hope that I have been an inspiration to at least one person along the way. I always say that although I have gone through so much in this life, I am dedicated to finding a lesson in my experiences and applying it to my life going forward. My purpose in this life is not complete unless I do so and also make efforts to help someone else. Millennial Mom is dedicated to doing just that. In closing, this article is the end of my series on navigating the family court system. It is also an end to my shares about my past in regards to my past relationship and that struggle. In the days to come, I will be sharing much more exciting things about my road to healing, bonding with my “mini me”, happiness in my new relationship, travels, and much more. So stay tuned for what is to come.

Until next time…

Xoxo,

Millennial Mom

Navigating the Family Court System: “yes your honor”

In a matter of 18-months, I mastered how to move through the New York Family Court system initially by using my knowledge as a layperson. I found myself involved there not by choice, but after it was alleged by “parent B” that I kept our daughter away from him for several years. “Parent B” was fighting against me for custody and the right to visits until custody was decided. Obviously the courts were unaware of our history and all the rights and visits that I had afforded “parent B” prior to him petitioning them. I understood that it would be my responsibility to inform the court of our background during a trial however, I was unaware of the treacherous battle that was ahead of me. Nor was I familiar with the politics in family court but boy did I learn very quickly. And for a time period that I found to be way too long, I was before a court telling my truth. Although, it was one of thee most uncomfortable and nerve-wracking experiences in my life, I was determined to endure through it. Especially after I was presented with the false allegations against me. After hearing the “alternative facts” that my daughter’s father entered into court documents, I was angry but ready to tell my story. And I vowed that I would do so based on the actual facts while remembering to keep my emotions out of the process. When questioned by the judge about my readiness to proceed in the case against me, I confidently responded “yes your honor”. I was extremely afraid and uncertain of what would come next. But I was motivated knowing that I was going battle on behalf of my “mini me” for the years of chaos, abuse, and instability we endured with “parent B”.

Her smile has always been a personal reminder that I am doing something right.

Before things in my court case took off running, I had to learn the politics of the court system and come to terms with it. There were so many practices and procedures that I did not understand or agree with; many of which I found to make absolutely no sense. For instance, hearings would sometimes be scheduled for a particular date and time and on the day of proceedings things would last 10 -15 minutes before an adjournment was issued; only for me to arrive at the next appearance and experience the same thing. This for me was a nuisance especially since I was traveling from three hours away to be present for court in the county where “parent B” petitioned. Court days for me were a huge expense as I would have to miss work to travel and would lose out on my day’s pay of $240. I was responsible for paying our nanny to work extra hours so that she could look after Bree in my absence, and I had pay for gas and tolls in order to make my trip to the court. Initially things were doable but then my case started to drag out longer than I believed necessary. My employer then began to question my frequent need to request time off and I was very worried. The financial aspect of my court battle was burdensome not to mention the ways in which my case impacted me mentally. Things did not stop there and as I started to lose out on money in this process, I had to seek out assistance options available to people in my situation. Sadly, what I found was both mind-blowing and discouraging.

With life’s lemons, we have always been thee most dynamic duo to have made the most amazing lemonade.

In efforts to better work through my case and address the hardship I was facing while attempting to attend court appearances, I started to look for programs that could aid or advise me. I found plenty of assistance in my neighborhood in Brooklyn, New York willing to offer me help. Unfortunately these programs could not serve me if my case was in another county. So, I considered help in the county where my case was being heard but learned that there were no special programs like the ones I located in New York City. There also was no assistance in New York State for working mothers at certain income levels. After learning this, I was so discouraged but believed that an attorney could better assist me. However, after several consultations the expense to hire an attorney was far more than what I could afford. I was denied a court appointed attorney on the basis that I made “too much money” and none of my expenses as a single parent were even considered in this determination although I presented them. I was not in receipt of any child support at the time, I lived in one of the most expensive cities in New York, I was being forced to travel and miss work on days that there were scheduled court appearances, and I was responsible for caring for myself and my daughter on solely one income. As much as these factors impacted me, they were not important to the court in determining my need. In this process of my case, I felt very lost and it appeared that there was no help for me.

aunt and Unc — Two people who have always given us their unwavering support in our darkest moments… Our aunt Mona and uncle Terry.

In contrast to the hardship that I was facing, it seemed that “parent B” navigated the court system with such ease. Not based on any work that he had personally done but because he was afforded several resources due to his circumstances; resources that I do not believe he even appreciated. He was granted several legal aid attorneys on various occasions due to his income level. Not one, not two, but three court appointed attorneys who he disrespected in court proceedings and then dismissed whenever he was unhappy. Many days I sat in the courtroom in shock about the circus “parent B” was able to create with very little consequences to follow. In addition, he was able to conveniently travel 10-minutes to the courthouse and lost very little in the process of our case. He was unemployed (by choice) and did not have a routine to support our daughter financially, pick-up her up from school, or pay her childcare/afterschool fees. All of these things were things I had managed for many years and court days made it even harder from me. It seemed to me that it would have been in the best interests of all three of us if our custody battle was fought in NYC where Bree and I lived. “Parent B” would still receive the same resources that he was granted in the county where he petitioned, if not more. In that event, I too would have had access to resources due to the increased number of legal aid programs available in NYC; and I would be able to continue carrying out my daily duties as a mom even on days that I had court. Such a change would cause me to lose less money. and I would only need to travel one hour by train to the courthouse; “parent B” would have needed to travel two.

After thinking things through, I entered a motion for a change of venue based on the fact that a change would better benefit everyone involved but sadly my request was denied. I did not understand the reason for the denial and again I found the politics of the family court to be troublesome. Had I been the individual weighing in on our case, I would have considered all the factors presented in my motion for a change of venue as I believed what I outlined to be very reasonable. My alternative option to transfer the case to NYC was one that I thought could better reach a resolution which considered myself, “parent B”, and Bree. However, decisions were made only in favor of “parent B” who I believe has been winning for many years and facing no consequences for his negative and irresponsible conduct. It was argued by one of his attorneys that he could not afford to travel to my jurisdiction for court proceedings due to financial hardship and it appeared that my hardship was meaningless. The court agreed with what “parent B” ‘s attorney argued and disregarded the fact that Bree and I lived in NYC for over three years. They also failed to consider the fact that “parent B” had just relocated back to the county after he had gone MIA for over three years. As upset as all of this made me and as much as I found it to be unfair, I was determined to keep pushing. There was no space for meltdowns or tantrums in the process of what I needed to get accomplished.

Bree is free — Moments like these have always given me motivation to keep going through our hardship… I am the happiest mom in the world when I see my little one soar.

Overtime, my court process was beginning to anger me especially as I felt like no end was in sight. But then one day “parent B” failed to appear for trial day and the judge decided to dismiss the case. I was so relieved as I felt that I could return to work, make up for the money that I had lost during the months that my case dragged on, and overall put things behind me. However, after two short weeks I was notified again with another petition to repeat the court process. “Parent B” had re-petitioned the courts to fight for custody again and notified me that he would ultimately make my life hell. As much as I was frustrated and tired, in a way I admired “parent B” ‘s dedication. I simply did not understand why he failed to show these qualities in the years prior. And with much stress and discouragement I proceeded to take on this journey again. After my experience from the first go around, I knew I had to secure an attorney as my efforts to accomplish things as a layperson in the previous proceedings were not enough. I worried that I would lose my job if I informed my employer that I was back in the court system and in need of days off, and believed that an attorney could help me with this issue. I knew that I was unable to pay the full-price of what an attorney cost so I reached out and bargained with different legal professionals. I offered to do all of the leg work in my case in exchange of receiving a discounted rate. Luckily, I found an attorney who was willing to take on my case. After retaining her, I prepared a legal binder containing timelines of events from a journal I maintained over the years; text messages and emails from “parent B”, statements from teachers, family, and friends, police reports, reports from Child Protective Services, and records showing the lack of support we received from “parent B” over the years. The binder was like my storybook. It was a resource holding the details of my life story for a period of over six years. All of the documents were things that brought my story to life and sadly throughout my court case I was reliving the struggle and trauma I already suffered through. Fortunately, throughout my trial, I had the unwavering support of key figures in my life including my best friends, my aunt and uncle, my mother, and my older sister.

Unfortunately, as the case dragged on I could no longer afford to pay my attorney per court appearance even at the discounted rate. I ultimately had to dismiss her although I felt that I would greatly benefit from having her. However, I had to use what I learned during previous hearings to make out the best I could on my own. During the time that my attorney and I worked together, I watched her very closely grasping as much as I could on how to present information to the court and how to address the judge, attorneys, and “parent B”. I feared that I could very well lose my case based on my limited knowledge of law. However, I quickly pushed such negative thoughts out of my mind. Not knowing was not going to be the reason that I failed. All of the things that I did not know, I was going to find out…

Stay tuned for my next post: Navigating the Family Court System pt. II: achieving success as a self-taught lawyer.

Until next time…

Xoxo,

Millennial Mom

Co-Parenting with the “Conflictual”: now you see me… now you don’t

As a full-time mama, disappearing somewhere as I felt the need was never something that crossed my mind. Nor would it ever be something I could successfully pull off if I ever even thought of doing such a thing. “Mommying” for me has always meant being dedicated to my little one and balancing all other aspects of my life around this role. For years I have described my daughter and I as a duo; a two-for-one special. I have always told others that I do not come alone and I am instead a packaged deal. In whatever I do in life, my daughter is always included. She is the reason for all that I do and she is always my central focus. Even before becoming a mama, and while bonding with my baby as she was growing in my belly, this was my mindset. The positive feelings that I felt about my daughter before even meeting her and the joy I felt about assuming a parenting role, caused me to naively believed that all parents (mothers and fathers) felt this way. Unfortunately, it was not until after having my daughter and separating from her father (“parent B”) that I realized this was a false perception. Making efforts to co-parent with “parent B” often assumed much of my time and energy as I was clearly the parent who made Bree the center of my world while “parent B” had another agenda. It was when Bree and I began going through the motions of “now you see me… now you don’t” with “parent B” that I realized that not every parent places their child(ren) as a top priority.

This picture truly symbolizes the bond that Bree and I share… she has always been my strength whenever I was in a challenging position… practicing flexibility together, Spring 2015.

For approximately four years, I tolerated the frequent disappearances and instability of “parent B”. It was always as if he was wanting for us to chase him. At times he could be located and other times no… playing this game of “now you see me… now you don’t”. I had already begun to accept the role of single-parenting and worked hard not to let the actions of “parent B” impact what I needed to do. However, I cannot say that his actions did not puzzle me. When offered visits with our daughter, he would accept them sporadically. Although he knew that telephone calls were the one way to consistently maintain contact with our daughter, he failed to call or keep a working number. His address frequently changed and sometimes, for months at a time his whereabouts were unknown. And then like magic, he would appear again with a new phone number and residence, ready to parent again. Being the person I am, I always allowed for him to pick-up where he left off whenever he would disappear and return into our lives again. I was supportive of his efforts to have a father-daughter relationship with Bree and would not keep that from him. I continued to allow my parents to assist with the arrangements of visits to remain out of the equation and to protect myself from any harassment. Sadly, whenever I believed things were progressing I was surprised by another disappearance. The pattern continued for some time and overtime I became familiar with it. It was something I did not understand but I was happy to know that it did not hinder me from my “Mommying” tasks. My “mini me” was well taken care of and appeared to be thriving well in a my care. I accepted “parent B”, his instability, and limited effort to signify the fact that parenting was not a priority for him. And with that understanding I carried on with my life until “parent B”one day reappeared and this time with demands and expectations that I found unreasonable.

The smile of a very happy child. During a time when I was working overtime to try and fill the voids in her life… Winter, 2015.

Although “parent B” failed to show any consistency or concern for the life of our daughter for several months, he one day contacted me interested in resuming visits and picking up where he had fell off before. I was again open to being the giver of chance number I -cannot-count. However, things in my life had changed; Bree and I had relocated to another city, Bree had enrolled in a new school, and resuming visits with “parent B” that were once easy and convenient for him would now require more of his effort. Now like many human-beings who find themselves in a position of discomfort, “parent B” began to complain and wreak havoc. I in-turn was met with questions about why I relocated from the country to the city; why I enrolled Bree in a school in a particular neighborhood; why I left Bree in the care of a nanny while I worked; why I worked in a correctional facility, in addition to a number of other questions. I found all the questions to be reasonable coming from a father but unreasonable coming from a father who selectively chose when he wished to be involved. I questioned where he was in the process of my parenting; where his financial support had been when I was considering schooling and childcare options; and altogether asked when he had ever been a dependable parent making efforts to give my “mini me” the best life possible. Of course I was met with excuses and no real answers. However, I really wasn’t in need of answers as I posed questions I had already had the answers to. I did not need details or specifics, all I knew is that my baby girl was not the center of “parent B” ‘s world. It was for this reason that I respectfully told “parent B” that he could not present after a multiple year hiatus, spent playing “now you see me… now you don’t”, to begin dictating what he did and did not like about the life I created for Bree. And with great disagreement and upset, “parent B” made it clear that “I was going to pay”. In his words, I had taken his daughter away from him and would be punished for my actions.

Little did I know that paying meant that I would spend eighteen months in the family court system fighting to tell my story; and fighting to get support as a single mother who had been dealing with the negative actions of the “conflictual” parent for far too long. It was a roller coaster ride that I definitely wasn’t prepared for.

I always find comfort cuddling next to her… being silly in our tent at Promise Land State Park, Summer 2015.

Stay tuned for my coming series: Navigating the family court system: “yes your honor”

Until next time…

Xoxo,

Millennial Mom

Co-Parenting with the “Conflictual” Parent: prioritizing paternal power over parenting

Successfully co-parenting with my daughter’s father (“parent B”) was my number one goal both while I was with him and after I made the decision to leave him. In fact, failing at this goal was one of my number one fears; so much so that it kept me in an abusive relationship longer than I should have been. I often felt pressured to stay and endure the maltreatment so that my “mini me” would have both parents until I one day realized that I would be making such a life possible for her at a great cost. I would be risking the emotional well-being and safety of myself and my child. But how could I be a great mother or be able to effectively co-parent if at the end of my day, I was not well? The reality is I could never! So with this enlightenment I also realized it was time to leave my relationship and eventually I did. Following the separation, I made it clear to “parent B” and people who questioned why I “catered” to him, that despite our failure in a romantic relationship I hoped for us to be the best parents possible to Bree. I made great efforts to be sure that this could happen until I understood that such a dream was only my own. Although, this goal is one that I believe should have been shared between myself and “parent B”, it became one that was solely burdensome and stressful to me; particularly working to get “parent B”and I on the same page. I was attempting to co-parent with a person who valued using his paternal power to puppeteer my life; someone who cared more about his control over me rather than making efforts to successfully parent. Such values made co-parenting nearly impossible.

The little face that has always been my motivation, Winter 2009.

After moving out of a shared apartment and living separately from “parent B”, I was grateful to have escaped the abuse and control I once endured. I couldn’t have been happier to be free from the physical and verbal abuse, drug use, control, threats, and instability. Such a life transformed me into a submissive and fearful person where I was sad and depressed more days than not. After I realized how much I lost myself and during times where I thought about the example I hoped to set for my daughter, moving forward to become happy and emotionally stronger again became another one of my priorities. In efforts to do so, I sought the help of a counselor to talk through my issues, spent my free-time in the gym, focused on a healthier diet, and found hope in my spirituality. I had the unwavering support of my aunt Ramona and uncle Terry who have always been more like my parents, in addition to the full support of my mother and older sister. Evading the chaos in my life was initially challenging but once I was out of it, things seemed to be looking up for “mini me” and I.

Finding comfort in my sister’s home along with kisses from my angel during trying times, Summer 2010.

Despite my history of abuse and hardship in my relationship, I was hopeful for a better future for myself and Bree; one that I envisioned with “parent B” involved. The optimist in me caused me to believe that things would be just fine. I was encouraged that life would be better and conflict would subdue being that I was out of the daily sights and interactions of “parent B”. I continued to have faith that “parent B” and I could be even better parents to my “mini me” if the stress of maintaining a romantic relationship was eliminated. My faith influenced my efforts to always assure that my daughter was connected with her father. I would transport Bree to visits whenever “parent B” asked and arranged phone dates for them regularly although Bree could barely speak. I would plan weekend outings to do as a family and attempted to include “parent B” in all aspects of my “mini me”‘s life. Sadly, visits and phone interactions exposed me to continued abuse. I was regularly questioned about if/who I was dating and threatened that I would be harmed if seen out in public with another man. I was denied financial support for Bree and told that I would receive it only if I returned back “home”. Visits were often cut short if I used my phone or was suspected of speaking to a romantic interest; things I was entitled to do as a single woman. In such instances, I would be quickly loading my baby and her belongings in the car while being berated, and then off on my way traveling 40 minutes to get back home to my parents. It seemed that all of my efforts to successfully co-parent were in vain. I endured this negative experience for some time until I was finally done.

A happy mother equals a happy child… back then and even now, we have always found our happy place outdoors, Summer 2011.

After it was clear that I would no longer place myself and little one in unsafe/uncomfortable predicaments for the sake of visiting time with “parent B”, I sought the help of my parents to assist with visits. Although my efforts at co-parenting failed, I continued to value the goal of helping Bree maintain a relationship with her father. I believed that I could now assist in doing so by removing myself from the situation. However, removing myself from the equation helped very little and seemed to cultivate more conflict. For another year or so I was met with morning calls and texts where I was threatened and degraded. I faced several incidents where my daughter was taken for visits, not returned, and used as bait in efforts to scare me. Authorities would be called to serve as mediators to help get my baby back home and when she did return , I was left afraid to allow her on future visits. The conflict I experienced in efforts to co-parent made life challenging and caused me to question if it was even worth it. I understood that I again put myself in a position to create a life that could happen but at a great cost.

“Mommying” = making things happen despite the chaos! One of our favorite things.. princess brunches and birthdays.

After a short time, it became more and more evident that the goal of co-parenting to meet the best interests of my “mini me” was something that only I found important in my parenting duo. Getting myself and “parent B” on the same page seemed nearly impossible and was not going to happen at that time. So I decided to rethink my goals and values as a mother considering what I could and wanted to do. I could only ensure that I was the best mother I was able to be and could not force my dreams or ideals on anyone else. I learned that co-parenting could only happen with two agreeable parents and sadly I was not in that place with “parent B”. I moved forward with my goal of giving Bree the best life, making sure that she was my number one priority, and ensuring that she was happy and well cared for. I left space and opportunity for “parent B” to come around at his own pace. Sadly, it seemed that the door to such a future closed after he disappeared for some time. I then started wrapping my mind around the idea of successfully single-parenting. The issues of power and control were gone from my life but like hurdles, new problems presented.

Stay tuned for pt. II of Co-parenting with the “Conflictual” Parent: now you see me… now you don’t. Until next time…

Xoxo,

Millennial Mom

Our Route to Happiness (pt. III): the trial travel run

Before rearranging life for my “mini me” and I to set out and travel the way we dreamed of, I had to first be sure that it was a challenge we were up for. I did not want to make major changes to later find that we were not ready or to realize that extended travel wasn’t really what we wanted. I faced great criticism and skepticism from others when I posed my idea of possibly traveling full-time and homeschooling, which made me question things once or twice. I was often asked “how do you know Bree will adjust well? or ” What if she doesn’t like it? And other times people flat out told me “you’re crazy”. With the majority of the responses I received, I felt that most people around me were so closed-minded and did not understand what I was trying to do. Nor did they consider the stressful years Bree and I endured together and the fact that we needed a break. The biggest concern posed to me was how I could live the life of a traveler with a child. However, that did not discourage me and instead motivated me to find the answer to the question. What would I do to successfully take on this new lifestyle with my child? My top priority was making the right choice for Bree based on my research and facts rather than on unsubstantiated fear. I was bound to do so despite what others thought and said. I would be sure that we found the happiness we were desperately in search of. From what Bree and I discussed, it was likely that travel could provide us what we were looking for… if we were ready for such a change. People who know me well like my best friends and my older sister told me things like “go for it, you’ll never know how ready you are unless you try”. So I planned on organizing a trial travel run to see just how ready we were.
Around December of 2015, my childhood friend Nicole extended an invite for Bree and I to join her overseas. I had shared my interest in exposing Bree to travel with Nicole and it was perfect timing when she offered for us to vacation with her. Nicole was traveling through Southeast Asia at the time and is a friend who has done a great deal of traveling herself. I was ecstatic that I would have the opportunity to wander with her and spend the time away with my little one. Bree and I would be traveling from New York City alone ,on a long flight and spending two weeks away. Initially it sounded scary but we were down to make it happen. And in February of 2016, we were off to the Philippines on Bree’s first international trip; we were off on our trial travel run.

Leaving Manila… ready to explore the other places in the Philippines.

After 20 plus hours of travel we finally arrived in the city of Manila. Upon our arrival we saw many things that came as a shock to us; including the young children roaming around barefoot and poorly clothes without a guardian close by. I perceived the city to be an impoverished one and I knew Bree’s mind was in great thought too based on the questions she posed. In instances such as this one and throughout our travels, I took what we saw as opportunities to educate Bree. I aimed to prepare her for things we could possibly encounter during our journey. I also took the the time to remind her that people all around the world are different and live differently . I wanted her to always strive to be open-minded to such differences despite what she observed and initially perceived. After such chats, Bree seemed less and less shocked by things that we witnessed throughout our trip and was much more understanding. She settled in so easily and everything to her was just irie (pleasing). Things at the beginning of the trip were off to a good start and headed in the direction that I had hoped for. From Manila we ventured off to places such as Puerto Princessa and El Nido, Palawan Islands; places that I can quickly describe as tranquil and breathtaking.

Our trip was one where we took the time to absorb all the beautiful things around us. Instead of hopping in a car or taxi as we usually did at home, we were chauffeured around in Tuk-Tuks (carriage like vehicles carried by motorbikes). Our accommodations were very basic and affordable. We stayed in places surrounded by nature and in places close to the beach with beautiful views. We even had the chance to stay in a man-made tree house, creatively designed with bamboo and sea shell decor. These places were not the luxurious hotels that we familiar with from other family vacations but somehow we appreciated them much more. I guess because the simplicity of these places void of fancy electronics and services allowed my “mini me”and I to relax with great company. They allowed us to truly enjoy time and conversations together without any distractions; they exposed us to environments where we could explore nature around us that we typically did not see at home; and proved to us that we could do with less and actually be happy about it. What we were experiencing taught me a lot about myself and about the life that I was practically killing myself to give us back home in NY. As our trip in the Philippines progressed, what I witnessed from my “mini me” taught me so much more!

Beautiful blue waters and skies in the Palawan Islands (picture by me), February 2016

Entry to our tree house at Bamboo Nest, in Puerto Princessa.

img_3297-1 — Evening view from our hostel balcony, El Nido.

Over the course of our two weeks away in the Philippines, I realized that Bree was the happiest I had seen her in a very long time. Not that she had ever presented to me as a saddened child, but on our journey she was simply glowing; running freely, asking tons of questions, requiring very little, and openly embracing a place very different from home. All of this was a refreshing sight for me. Although I understood how children can easily adapt to new environments, I also knew that such an adjustment can present as a challenge when a new setting is very different from a child’s normal environment. This was the case for me when I spent my summers living abroad in Jamaica between the ages of 7 and 10. At first I had great trouble adjusting and was sometimes in distress missing the things I was used to. Over time I became more comfortable with the things that were initially foreign to me and overall such experiences were some of the greatest that my mother could have ever afforded me. I saw something completely different in Bree however when I assessed her adjustment to her first trip away and everything that I witnessed made me proud.

On her first trip away, A’Bree did not show one sign of unhappiness or poor adjustment to being far away from home, friends, or loved ones. In every activity we participated in, even ones that were new to her or ones that made her afraid (swimming in the ocean and walking among crabs on the beach) she was brave and conquered her fears in instances when she was not. She was fine being vulnerable in situations where she was the new girl who did not speak the language, playing with the locals on the beach; and comfortable being the little brown girl who drew tons of stares and countless numbers of people playing with her braided and beaded hair. She was so joyful and just looking at her I could tell that she felt free. She was delighted to roam around barefoot when she could like the children she saw upon our arrival in Manila, happy to swing in a hammock or fishing net for hours at a time, and so content to simply be in my presence doing some very fun and novel things. She was without television and electronics and our fun entailed made up games, being beach bums searching for sea shells, outdoor play, and exploration. Everything I saw in my daughter was enlightening and gave me hope. Many of her strengths, interests, and character traits came to light as a result of a temporary change in our change in environment. Bree did not appear to be missing her life at home, she was much happier with less, accepted all of the differences that came with visiting a foreign country, and she easily adjusted to such a long journey overseas. After seeing what I saw in her while abroad I knew I didn’t need to see much more. Her question of whether we could “do this forever” solidified things for me. Our trial travel run was over and I knew what we needed to do next. We conquered the test and it was evident that we were ready to plan for extended travel overseas.

My “mini me” swinging happily in a fishing net on the beach.

Belly Dancer silhouettes in the sunset, El Nido.

Beach bumming-it and exploring, photo credit: Ste Lane @northofthewall_

Searching the shore for sea shells, photo credit: Ste Lane @northofthewall_

Our last day in Puerto Princessa where this smile told me everything I needed to know!

Bree and I finished our journey in the Philippines on an even greater note than the one we started on. We were so refreshed and grateful for our experience; and thankful to our friends Nicole and Ste for showing us a wonderful time. We had something great to look forward to and would get busy planning when we arrived back home. I knew I had to get the ball rolling by saving, organizing schooling options, planning for what to do with our apartment/belongings, and discussing the plan with my family. It all sounded doable and I was motivated to do it all. I simply needed to plan and pace myself. However, there was one obstacle that gave me GREAT anxiety and that was facing the non-custodial parent who was bound to give me hell.

Now I promise there is no part IV in this series but I ask that you stay tuned for my next series: Co-parenting with the “Conflictual” Parent. In that series I will share much of the conflict I have experienced with my daughter’s father for the past 7 years, and in part discuss how it impacted my decisions and current journey. Until next time…

xoxo,

Millennial Mom

Our Road to Happiness (pt. II): planning a new route

After years of hard work and dedication to living out my “American Dream”, I grew to a different place mentally. Such growth yielded me to be in search of a life more fulfilling and different from what I am familiar with back home in the states. I realized that the “American Dream” allowed me to reach many of my goals and then this particular dream was not my dream anymore. Nor was it something as close to my heart as it previously had been. I was over working 50+ hours per week for a business that was not my own; tired of spending countless hours away from my little one; confused as to why I accepted dedicating the majority of my earnings to bills and debt; and frustrated with traveling for only one or two weeks out of the 52 weeks in the year to quickly return to work again. Such a routine was less of a dream for me and more of a nightmare. However, I was grateful to have been afforded the opportunity to advance my education, to work as a young professional in a managerial position in my field of study, and blessed to have been in a position to afford my “mini me” and I a comfortable lifestyle; opportunities not available to many people. So I embraced the ideal of the “American Dream” for some time and then accepted the fact that I had outgrown it. I then had my mind set on a new dream; a dream considered very much unorthodox in the minds of many; a dream easier to be embraced by people with a millennial mindset. And in November of 2014, I was on a new mission to make that dream my new reality. I was in pursuit of a new route to our happiness.

A paradise that I had the opportunity to experience while living in Bocas del Toro for one month. Photo by me, December 2016

In November of 2014, I remember siting in my office while my mind wandered elsewhere. I would have very much preferred to have been somewhere else. I was bored of my routine, tired, and barely surviving the cold winter climate in NYC. So to offer myself a little hope and excitement I googled tropical images and dazed at them. I then began researching places opposite the U.S. in terms of culture, food, language, warm climate, etc. Although I was fortunate to live in a city where I could easily get a taste of these things (minus the warm climate part as it was winter) in the diverse neighborhoods around me, I wanted to find a place where I could escape with “mini me” and be totally immersed in these things if I wanted to. A number of places that appealed to me immediately appeared in my search results. So I purchased a travel journal and began compiling a list. This project was something I was very excited about. Despite several of my co-workers thinking that I was nuts and in the stage of some sort of early adult-life crisis, I knew I was just fine and on to something great . As my list of places to wander grew, I knew I needed to narrow it down. I believed that I could better do so by creating a list of things I would hope to do and accomplish in the regions on my list; and then select places based on what stood out to me from my list. However, I knew I could not do this task on my own. I had to consult with none other than my life partner… my “mini me”.

Some of the best conversations I have had, have been with this little face in some very special places; including our picnic blanket in Flushing Meadows Park, in Queens, NY.

Bree and I began regular conversations about changing our lifestyle through travel. We were yearning for culture and were in desperate need of a break. But we were clueless about what exactly we wanted to do and how we would make it happen. Would we take longer vacations together during the year? spend the summer months away? or do the “unthinkable” and make traveling a full-time practice as a single mama-daughter duo? At that time, my then five-year-old said yes to all options… everything was a go for her. I on the other hand needed to guide us towards a more specific goal. To arrive at a better goal, together Bree and I started highlighting many of the things that we loved about our New York life and discussed things that we wanted to get away from. We then talked about what we hoped to find in other places. I also created a threefold question for us to quickly answer each night before bedtime which was “if I had one wish what would I ask for, what would I change, and how would I live my life afterwards if my wish came true”. This question was one Bree and I routinely discussed for about a week until my then five-year-old so maturely and articulately laid out her wish for me, and then it hit me!

Evening conversations before rocking my “mini me” to sleep looked a little something like this.

One evening during our nightly discussion Bree hopefully shared her threefold wish with me. Her wish was something along the lines of “if I had one wish, I would want to spend more time with you! I would wish for more money so you wouldn’t have to work a lot and I would make you a teacher so you could teach me… after that I would just be happy”. As emotional as I could ever be, I held my baby and reassured her with the words “no worries, I got you”. I was uncertain of exactly what I needed to do but it was a start. Bree and I moved on from discussing wishes to watching YouTube videos of places we wanted to visit. In each region , we talked about what we wanted to see and learn. Bree was very much fascinated with Egypt and wanted to learn about architecture, archaeology, and desert animals. She also talked about learning Spanish language. Surprisingly she noted as much as she loved Egypt, she was uncertain about visiting there for safety reasons. She reiterated this point to my good friend Cynthia during a comical car ride where we discussed wandering further. So I introduced Bree to my research findings on places in Central and South America. We were sold on places like Mexico, Costa Rica, Guatemala, and Peru; places where Bree could absorb information about diverse animal life, Maya and Inca cultures famous for great architecture (somewhat similar to the Egyptian culture), gold mining, and craftsmanship. And we would be able to be in the warmer climates we were craving. I began looking into homeschooling options to see if I also had what it took to teach Bree and explored different curriculums.

Things were looking really good and I was feeling very confident. This caused me to kick my research mode into overdrive. I learned the average cost of living in various countries in Central and South America. I then budgeted out the monthly expenses for Bree and I to explore in such regions. I looked up things such as food costs, accommodation, methods and cost of travel, schools, and fun things to do. Once I had an idea of what such an excursion would cost us, I was sold again! The cost for us to survive and explore overseas was significantly less than the massive expenses we held in the states. I decided that my salary from my part-time work position could be used to maintain any bills I had while traveling, and would begin saving a lump sum to be dedicated solely to our travel. After coming to this realization, I was beyond thrilled. Our new dream was looking more and more realistic. However, I had much more work to do; starting with a trial travel period to assess “mini me’s” potential to adjust to life overseas.

On a night where we realized changing our lives to fit our new dream was looking more promising!

Stay tuned for pt III of: Our Road to Happiness

Until next time…

xoxo

Millennial Mom

Our Road to Happiness: finding an alternative way

In October of 2016, my “mini me”, the love of my life, and I made a huge leap. We left behind our lives in New York City, packed our backpacks, and set out to travel South and Central America for seven months. Our journey away is not the typical travel/vacation that most people imagine. We have yet to stay in one place during our course of travel and much of our journey has been done on a budget. We have moved about five different countries thus far, living out of our backpacks, lodging in various types of accommodation from luxury apartments, to hotels, to hostels. It’s been an AMAZING journey to say the least. Traveling with a child based on our style of travel has been both a unique and challenging experience. All in all, our excursion was planned and executed to meet my baby girl’s dream of traveling and seeing more of the world. This journey is also very much related to my dream of traveling which I put on hold after I became a mother. Despite how different our experience has been from the lives we live at home and despite the challenges that come with the traveling lifestyle, I’d say it is well worth it. But before I share more about the challenges and the things that have made this nomadic journey so special, I must first share the reason why I gave up everything I owned, left my career of six years behind, withdrew my “mini me” from school, and hit the road. My story is one that I hope serves as an example that there is no one way to journey through this life; when a path presents a road block simply find an alternative way.

Whenever I share my current experience and new lifestyle with others (backpacking with a 7-year-old through 6 countries, home/worldschooling, and working from home), I am often met with responses showing that others are intrigued, fascinated, inspired, and eager to know more. I am also frequently met with critical questions such as “why would you leave such a great career and life to wander? weren’t you scared? what will you do when it’s all over?; questions that I find somewhat realistic and very much in touch with how I believe most mothers, working professionals, and Americans feel. However, I would not consider myself your typical mother, would argue that I am different from the average working professional, and believe I am someone difficult to compare to the average American. To answer the questions often posed to me as a traveling and homeschooling mom, I gave up my career, lifestyle, and everything I owned for several reasons. Before I share my reasoning for such a change, it is important to note that everything I did came after careful planning, weighing of pros and cons, years of trying various options, and brainstorming of how I could do better for my daughter and myself. During a time when I was a single mother with limited help to provide for my daughter, I realized that I had to find a better way to maintain our household without depending on my family or the “system” to do so. For several years, I tried different options that impacted my daughter and I negatively. The reality is after such trial and error, we were tired. We faced more than enough hardship and challenges throughout our years together, and were ready to throw in the towel. We were sad, bored, and in many ways desperate. In addition to wanting to meet all of our needs and give us better, I was desperately seeking genuine happiness for my little girl and myself; the happiness that I seemed to have forgotten about in my normal life while being overwhelmed with school and work.

Since 2010, my “mini me” and I have had a lot on our plates. We have been pushing every day to stay above water in several aspects of our lives. In 2010, I was in the process of completing a Master’s degree in Forensic Psychology and spent many days away from my little one. I was commuting from upstate New York to New York City for classes at John Jay College. This was my routine three days per week for one year. I would leave home at 5:30 am Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and return home after 6:00 pm. On the days that I did not attend classes, I was putting in hours at two internships, completing course work, hitting the gym, doing freelance work to maintain an income, and spending time with my daughter. It was no easy task but I always hustled with the belief that we would one day rise above our hardship. Sadly, my demanding commute and the repeated harassment I experienced from my daughter’s father often times made me feel like I was sinking. However, no matter how bad or tired I felt, I never gave up. I simply made changes in my life as needed. I was determined to be successful to give my “mini me” and I a better life and would do so by any means necessary. One of those means was leaving my baby in the care of my parents (my mother and step-father) for 1.5 years to go into what I call hiding; and to complete my degree with less distractions.

baby-girl-and-i Through it all, I maintained a smile…finding hope in the eyes of my “mini me”

In June of 2011, I relocated from my hometown in Monticello, New York, back to New York City where only my close friends and family knew where to find me. Living in my hometown, I was subjected to threats and harassment from my child’s father after I made the decision to leave him. I did not wish for such factors to hinder me from completing my degree and I wanted to remain safe. During my time in New York I was focused more on finishing my degree and began building a new life for my daughter and I. The two years that I spent finishing my degree were yet more sad and overwhelming times for me. I woke up alone daily, went to school for long hours or worked full-days, and went to bed the same way I awoke. Many nights I cried as I missed my daughter and although I tried to be optimistic, sometimes I did not believe some of the positive affirmations that I told myself. On weekends I traveled to the Catskills from my place of hiding to be with my family and returned home at the end of the weekend. This helped me feel less lonely and less guilty about being away from my daughter. The constant commuting was again no easy task but thankfully the day did finally come where we rose above and moved on from this stage in our lives. I graduated college with honors and completed my degree in Forensic Mental Health. I arranged for my baby girl to move down to NYC into our new and cozy apartment, and enrolled her in pre-school. Following my graduation, I was successful in landing my dream job providing therapy in a correctional facility, putting my degree to use. It appeared that the storm for us was passing and we were entering a state of calm.

One of the best days of my life, Graduation 2013; M.A, John Jay College

From May of 2012 to September of 2016, I worked hard to maintain a beautiful apartment in Brooklyn, New York for myself and my baby girl. In addition, I balanced all of our bills and expenses on my own paying close to $5,000 per month. I juggled school loans, childcare expenses, a car note, extra-curricular activities for Bree, and all of our monthly household and personal expenses. I continued to be optimistic throughout the process, maintaining the mindset that all my hard work would one day pay off. However, like any responsibility that requires hard work and dedication, there comes burnout after some time. After my years of being a dedicated mother, student, and professional, I was truly burned out from the work I was putting in. Although, I was familiar with burnout and mastered techniques to help me temporarily overcome it, I knew it was time to make a change when my little one too began showing signs that she was overwhelmed. Despite my fatigue, it was evident that my hard work was yielding favorable results. However I was still confident that there had to be another way. One of our favorite ways to find a place of calm… outdoors (here we are pictured while camping in Promise Land State Park, PA)

In the winter of 2015, my “mini me” began showing signs that I never saw before. During mornings when I would drop her off to school, she would cry for reasons that I did not understand. When I would pick her up from school, she would spend her evening clinging to me and begging to stay home from school the following day. These behaviors were new to me and one day prompted me to have a talk with Bree. I asked her what changed and her response was simple. She told me that she was TIRED of being away from me, TIRED of spending long hours in school, TIRED of spending dinner time and bath time with her nanny, and TIRED of seeing me tired. This for me was hard to swallow and brought about great sadness. I realized that in my efforts to give my daughter a better life I was causing her loneliness and sadness. In addition, she was trying her hardest to thrive in a single-parent household. This realization was the moment that I knew I had to make changes. I needed to begin brainstorming a plan that would allow Bree and I to live comfortably while spending more time together, a plan that would allow me to still feel that I was successful in my career and making use of my education, and a plan that would allow me to create a life that ultimately allowed Bree and I to be genuinely happy. And so the planning began…

school-and-work School/work days in NYC started something like this

Stay tuned for part II of Our Road to Happiness: finding an alternative way

Until next time…

xoxo

Millennial Mom

The Storm Before the Calm: preparing for “mommyhood” following an unexpected pregnancy

The past seven years of my life have been very interesting to say they least. So many challenges and blessings all mixed together. Today I reflect on the past seven years with a heart full of gratitude and the understanding that anything is possible. Before I got to where I am today and before I set out on my current journey with my mini me, we faced much adversity. We were constantly making adjustments in our lives to live the best that we could. Many of those adjustments involved me putting certain dreams on hold to be sure that I was always meeting the needs of A’Bree and putting her first. Travel is one of those dreams that I postponed. It was a dream that I constantly thought about during my college years. I even looked into participating in a study abroad program in Spain to get my travel fix. I was yearning for more culture and experiences that I did not believe I found living in New York City. However, a very strange turn of events changed things for me. My story is one that only few people know but a must share, so let’s start there.

During the start of my sophomore year in college (September of 2008), I took a huge leap and moved out of my dormitory to live with my daughter’s father. I had a rough year prior to my sophomore year as I underwent brain surgery and did not anticipate jumping right into my college career 6 weeks after a major surgery. However, I made it work and was trying my hardest to do everything to pursue my education and be successful. For financial reasons and in efforts not to exhaust the funds from a scholarship I received, I moved out of my dorm with my daughter’s father to save money. In November of 2008 during a routine MRI appointment to follow-up on the post-op conditions of my brain, I learned some very unexpected news. A nurse approached me and told me that I could not proceed with my MRI as my urinary pregnancy test came back positive. Of course I thought she was highly mistaken and had her check the label on the urine sample cup at least two times to compare it to my medical bracelet. And what do you know the information matched and the nurse was not mistaken. My world felt like it had crashed down and I went home in the deepest depression. I felt like I had no one to talk to and my relationship was not the best. I was isolated from my family with a man who was very much abusive in every way. It could not have been a worse time in my life for me to end up pregnant.

As soon as I was able to schedule a doctor’s appointment I did. When I went to the doctor I was told that I was approaching 13 weeks in my pregnancy. I constantly questioned why I presented with no symptoms or signs of pregnancy. I was reminded that discontinuing birth control immediately after my operation could have very well been the reason for this. I was uncertain of what to do and debated in my mind whether or not I would go through with a delivery. I was very lost but time was ticking away for me to make a decision. People around me gave me mixed feedback on what to do. My roommate Jessica Hyman assured me that I’d be a great mom while other friends told me I’d be ruining my life going through with my pregnancy. Despite my crazy circumstances, despite what people had to say, and despite the loneliness and fear that I felt I made MY choice, and I was going to become a mom.

8-months-prego May 2009, 8 months pregnant

As I prepared for “mommyhood” I put my social life and dream of traveling on pause. I could no longer hang with my friends and enjoy the things that young college students should enjoy. I needed to finish my degree before my mini me arrived; that was my priority. In my mind becoming a young mother and college drop-out was not an option. I doubled up on classes and completed my curriculum one semester early. I continued working until I was well into my 8th month of pregnancy. I saved as much money as I could and relocated back to my hometown keeping in mind that country living was more economical and ideal for me raising a child. Sadly a time in my life that should have been one of thee happiest and most exciting times was a very sad and overwhelming time for me. I hid my pregnancy until I began showing at around 8 months and isolated from people who would have probably helped me through such a tough time if only I had talked about it. The sadness however quickly went away from me on June 23rd, 2009 at 9:19 pm; the day that my beautiful daughter A’Bree Inez was born.

june-23 June 23, 2009…. A princess was born

Little did I know that becoming a mother would be one of the best things that ever happened to me. Nor did I know that becoming a young mom would be my motivation to achieve greatness. I call this time in my life, the storm before the calm. Today I can confidently say that becoming a younger mother is hands down one of the most challenging things that I ever faced in my life. However, it’s a life event that can serve as inspiration and motivation. It’s a time period where you find strength that you never knew you had and a time where your ability to be resilient is constantly tested. It does not have to limit or hinder you and it does not mean you give up on your dreams. Postpone things in your life as necessary until you are situated and then keep pushing. And today my friends I can truly say, my mini me and I are pushing.

I hope this story reaches and motivates whoever needed to read it. Know that there is always a calm after the storm. On another note, know that there is so much more to come from me. Until next time…

x0x0

Millennial Mom