There's an idea that everyone has a line in the sand; a point at which, like Martin Luther, you say Here I Stand. Popular culture and literature alike are filled with examples of people who faced impossible odds but dug in and found ways to not just survive but conquer, flourish, triumph.
That's great for the archetypical heroes in our movies and history books but most of us never get past simply trying to survive in a hostile world. Reality is about making compromises and concessions, in trying to only give up prized territory by the inches, not yards.
In this blog, I'm going to tell you a story of betrayal, divorce, and years of acrimonious court battles and vindictive fights. It's a story of failed parenting and bitter regrets. It's a story of wealthy, influential parents who presented a facade of benevolence, philanthropy and religious humility while assisting their son as he tried to first buy his children from their mother and who would, ultimately, try to have his youngest child involuntarily emancipated so he didn't have to pay child support.
But in the end, this is my story. These things happened to me and I have every right to tell them. I've kept quiet out of respect for my children's last name and, indeed, Jamieson Winters is a nom de plume. They are adults now, and I no longer try- or can- shelter them from the worst of their father's excesses. Not using my real name is simply a way to shield them from further retaliation.
It's my perspective, of course, and there are always two sides of every story. This will be mine.