The Illusion of Exception in Parental Alienation
Disclaimer paragraph: We’re all about healing families and rebuilding the bonds alienation steals from kids and parents. Our hearts beat for every parent fighting to stay in their child’s life, pushing for love and connection above all. But, there’s an elephant in the room. The numbers don’t lie: 80% of the worst alienation cases hit dads, and they’re three times more likely to be wiped out of their kids’ lives. So anytime I’m on social media I see that mom blathering her justifications as to why she’s alienating the father (aka - she hates him more than she loves her own child), I think, “You’re kidding me, right?” I type out some long TL;DR in the comments about how she’s a… well, I’ll leave that to your imagination. Anyways, here’s a PRO-TIP: type that TL;DR, post it to get that gratification, delete it immediately, back out of whatever thread so that it hopefully disappears into the universe, let go, go on about your day. At almost no point in time do we ever see those emotional TL;DR responses to our argument and immediately are compelled to jump the fence. Additionally, the temporary gratification is not worth the cultural harm that it can do, especially to the “words are actual violence” types. All that said, we don’t hate women. Many of us have remarried or some ARE women in advocacy because they saw the devastation it did to their partner and the child. So yes, we’re going to speak for fathers and from their perspective because the stats and real-life trauma and PTSD are irrefutable.
-END DISCLAIMER
In the complex tapestry of family dynamics, a recurring narrative emerges: a mother who claims she is the exception, justified in alienating the father of her child. She may cite his flaws—real or perceived—as reasons to sever the child’s bond with him, framing her actions as protective, even noble. Yet, this stance often reveals more about her own insecurities than about the father’s shortcomings. Philosophically, this claim of exception is not only a fallacy but a self-inflicted wound, harming both the child and the mother herself.
The mother who alienates often begins with a story: the father is unreliable, uncaring, or unfit. She positions herself as the sole guardian of the child’s well-being, uniquely capable of discerning what is best. This narrative, however, is frequently a projection of her own fears and unresolved wounds. As the Stoic philosopher Epictetus taught, “It is not things themselves that disturb us, but our judgments about them.” Her grievances against the father—his failure to meet her expectations, his perceived slights—are often mirrors reflecting her own insecurities: fear of abandonment, inadequacy, or loss of control. By casting him as the villain, she seeks to affirm her own identity as the “better” parent, but this comes at a grave cost.
Philosophically, the claim of being the exception is rooted in hubris. It assumes a singular grasp of truth, dismissing the child’s inherent right to a relationship with both parents. The existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre argued that we are condemned to freedom, responsible for the consequences of our choices. Alienating a father is a choice, one that burdens the child with a fractured identity and the mother with the weight of her own self-deception. The child, deprived of half their heritage, becomes collateral damage in a war waged not against the father but against the mother’s unresolved self.
Consider the paradox: in seeking to protect, the alienating mother inflicts harm. Psychological research, such as Amy Baker’s 2024 studies, shows that alienated children suffer anxiety, depression, and relational struggles, wounds that echo emotional abuse. The mother’s insistence on her exceptionality blinds her to this truth, trapping her in a cycle of justification. She may claim, “My case is different,” but this is a universal refrain, not a unique truth. As Plato’s allegory of the cave suggests, those who cling to shadows mistake them for reality. Her issues with the father—often magnified by her insecurities—are not the child’s to bear.
To the mother who feels justified: pause and reflect. Your pain is real, but its source may lie within. The father’s imperfections do not erase his role in your child’s life, nor do they elevate you to an arbiter of their bond. Embrace humility, as the philosopher Laozi counseled: “To know yet to think that one does not know is best.” By releasing the need to be the exception, you free yourself from the prison of projection and your child from the burden of your choices. True protection lies not in alienation but in fostering wholeness—for your child, for yourself, and for the shared humanity that binds you all.
David B
Fathers Anonymous
