Advocacy, We Have a Problem: He That Has Ears to Hear, Let Him Hear…

There’s an insidious rot growing within our movement. From the moment I joined the fight against parental alienation and for fathers’ rights, I sensed it, a shadow that’s been there since the start, and perhaps always will be as long as broken or maligned people lead the charge. I once admired certain figures, pouring my time, money, and heart into their causes, but now I find myself wary of them. My skepticism stems from a growing unease about true intentions. After all, it was my blind trust that unfortunately landed me where I am today. Descartes argued that questioning appearances is essential to uncovering reality, and my doubts about these types of these types of people feel both rational and necessary. Is it my perspective shifting? Their masks slipping? Or the toxic climate we’re all steeped in?

I’ve taken some self inventory, which is a regular practice for me, and in fact, it’s something I advocate others do before anything else. “We are what we repeatedly do,” and my habit of self reflection has honed my clarity. My skepticism starts from within: Am I wrong? Are there other perspectives? Do we have all the facts? Is this a “me” problem? This process revealed a divide between who I believe I am and who I perceive them to be. I’m always pursuing the truth and am always careful to try to be as honest and authentic as possible (take it or leave it) and encourage others to pursue the same. Meanwhile, the subject(s) of my writing, they, are calculatingly convincing and eager to direct people on who to talk to, how to think, how to feel, and essentially who to be. Psychologically, this is control masquerading as leadership, a tactic that exploits the vulnerability of these alienated fathers desperate for hope. My distrust is justified; when someone seeks to shape your identity, it undermines your autonomy, a betrayal that cuts deep and fuels my resolve to question motives.

The emotional weight of this realization is crushing. I’m having to reconcile that those I admire(d) are maybe not as advertised. As an alienated father, I carry a grief that’s unyielding, a longing for my children paired with fury at a system that thrives on our powerlessness. When leaders or advocates in our movement exploit this pain, it feels like a second wound, a betrayal that intensifies the isolation. Psychologists describe this simply as invalidation: when your lived experience is dismissed, it deepens your sense of abandonment, making anger and disillusionment not just personal but universal among those who share this struggle. This reminds me of Nietzsche’s critique of those who cloak self interest in altruism, a perspective that validates my frustration with leaders and advocates who prioritize their own “cloaked” agendas over our collective pain.

Then I look at my circle and theirs. My circle consists of those who would be honest and forthcoming, even if it meant confronting me; they know the same is true about me. My circle cares enough to know me well, and I them; they would do almost anything for me, including potentially risking their life for me, and I them. My circle has grace; they know I’m a broken man and they accept me for who I am, flaws and all, while knowing that I know my flaws are something to work on, not a crutch. Their circle consists of those who either admire their notoriety or utility in their own aims. The circle dare not confront or criticize the person because they want to maintain their influence for their own purposes. If they are confronted with opposition, they will admonish without any introspection and quickly shuffle you to the perimeter or even entirely outside of the group. There’s this sense of, “only I know how to do what I’m doing and you must do it my way or you’re doing it wrong.” I’ve even heard admonishments from these types as a tactical shaming as, what seems to be, a method of gatekeeping. This mirrors what psychologists call group think, a dynamic where conformity stifles truth, and my skepticism of their motives is grounded in this pattern.
These people will do only what needs to be done for what they’ve determined, so graciously on your behalf by the way, what they deem is noble, and they’ve decided they’re doing it for you, despite your foolishness and inadequacies. Thank you for your service? Am I grateful enough to reach your inner circle? Ironically, many of these types claim to be religious but have forgotten their own text: “Take heed that you do not do your charitable deeds before men, to be seen by them…” This is literally the opposite of what they do; humblebrag is the epitome of their existence. And work on themselves? The only thing they work on is how to become more cunning amongst dens of thieves as opposed to driving out the dens altogether. They’re quite eager to tell everyone else how much work everyone else need to do on themselves, though. As C.S. Lewis noted, “Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive.” My frustration with hypocrisy is not a personal grudge but an illumination of the betrayal of the movement’s core values.

Let me be blunt. I’m sick and tired of people cosplaying my plight as if it were their own when they’ve barely even had a taste of the life I lead (and the few like me still living). I’m enraged by those who pretend to understand my struggle, when they’ve barely tasted the pain I live with daily. I’m not one to callously throw comparative suffering, however, guys like me with our 5 to 25 years of alienation in some way has to be glaringly quantifiable opposed to these heroes sample of a month to a year. I didn’t miss a holiday or season; I missed an entire stage of life, and for me personally that is continuing indefinitely. Having your pain co opted by those who don’t share it is a form of emotional theft, a violation that deepens the wound of alienation. I’m disgusted with these people who have no comprehension of my pain telling me how to think, feel, and behave. I’m over pretending that we live in a just society and that we should continue to play a rigged game with rules so clearly leveraged against us. Do not tell me that I’m to become like the very people who aim to regulate my relationships simply so they can regulate my relationships in the way that I prefer. How about not? How about we stop giving these compromised, professional liars any authority by no longer conceding it? How about we stop asking and instead take what is ours? Make no mistake, this has been a war on men and children, and it’s high time we act like it. As it pertains to my right to be a father, there’s nothing to talk about in some Senate subcommittee that hasn’t already been defined in the U.S. Constitution. Philosophically, this aligns with Locke’s assertion that natural rights, like parenting, are inalienable, validating my refusal to negotiate what’s inherently mine. I will not concede that my being “allowed” supervised visits is something I should be temporarily content with, nor should I subject my children to that type of psychological warfare by the system. Enough is enough. We shouldn’t be giving our pair for them to carry around in their fanny packs, if you get my drift.

This will gain me no accolades from the fans and cults within our space but someone has to say it. My call to question everyone, especially those shaped by their flaws, is grounded in reason. Skepticism isn’t cynicism; it’s a safeguard against deception, as Kant argued that critical inquiry protects us from blind trust. I’ll be respectful only in not saying a name(s) or group(s) for the simple fact that some people need some sort of direction because it’s the last thing they’re clinging to. And I’ll be honest, there is some forward motion with what they are doing; but for the record their aim isn’t off, it’s just not the same target.

Still, I can see through you; you leaned into your own wheelhouse and made it your own, very well guarded niche. But if there’s any good in your soul, maybe you should reach out to those of us in the trenches and see what it’s really like outside the generals’ quarters sipping tea and rubbing shoulders. War looks a lot different for those of us doing the real work, outside of the politics, that is. As Plato warned, “We are twice armed if we fight with faith.” Those of us fighting on the ground know the real cost, far from the polished politics. My call for them to reconnect with the movement’s heart is validated by the psychological truth that empathy, not just your ambition, drives meaningful change.

Otherwise if you’re already on the defense, go ahead, you all keep taking smiling pictures with treasonous frauds and thieves. But to those awestruck in admiration, I offer a caution: be careful with who you surround yourself with; your company can say a lot about you. Psychologically, we are shaped by those we surround ourselves with, a principle that validates my caution about who we trust. If your time is spent making connections with lawyers and politicians instead of the people you claim to advocate for, then who really has whose ear?

I leave you with this: Aristotle once said, “What is evil can nor should be loved; for it is not one’s duty to be a lover of evil or to become like what is bad.” My skepticism, my grief, my anger, they’re not just mine; they’re the voice of a movement that deserves better. Let’s choose our allies and our battles with unflinching clarity. For me, my resolve in truth and honor has never been more clear. I hope you, the reader, is aiming toward the same.

Unapologetically,
David