I Didn’t Lose My Kids. The System Lost Me.

This is the part of my story that most people don’t want to talk about. The part where judgment comes easy, and compassion is rare.

I didn’t lose my kids because I didn’t love them. I didn’t walk away because I was careless. I signed my rights away because the system made it almost impossible to keep them.

The judge said it to my face: “Being an addict, you would have a better chance of getting your kids back than having a mental illness.” That moment still sits heavy in my soul.

My lawyer cried. Not because I was weak—but because she knew I was up against something no love, no fight, no mother’s instinct could fix.

Mental illness didn’t make me unfit. It made me human. And it made the system uncomfortable.

I didn’t choose to give them up because I was giving up. I chose it because I knew dragging them through a hopeless court battle wasn’t love—it was trauma.

I chose their peace over my pride. I chose their stability over my presence. I chose the most painful kind of love—the one that sacrifices silently.

And every day since, I’ve carried that pain. Not because I regret the love, but because I miss what love cost me.

The system says it’s about reunification. But when you’re poor, mentally ill, and lacking support—it’s not about family. It’s about control.

So today, I tell the truth. For every mom who was forced to let go. For every parent who was labeled instead of loved. For every child who may one day ask “why?”

Because silence doesn’t protect us. It isolates us. And I won’t be silent anymore.

Reflection:
Have you ever made a decision that others judged, but deep down you knew it was the most loving thing you could do? You are not alone. Your love still counts.