Walking Into Family Court for the First Time

When my divorce first began, I believed that everyone inside the family court building shared one goal: protecting children. I thought the judge, minors counsel, custody evaluators, and therapists were all working together to find truth and safety. I was wrong.

I was also the first in my friend group and at my daughter’s school to go through a divorce. People looked at me like I had the plague and didn’t want to catch it. I tried connecting with other single or divorced moms, but I quickly realized my experience was different. There were moments we could relate to each other, but my divorce was a category five hurricane.

During one of the darkest times in my case, my aunt said something that stayed with me. She told me she was optimistic by nature but also realistic. She said sugarcoating things only prolongs the suffering and keeps us in denial. It was my first real lesson in radical acceptance, even though we didn’t use those words.

Accepting the reality of the system didn’t mean I agreed with it. It meant that I understood the limits of my energy. If I tried to fight for my children and against the system at the same time, I would lose both battles. Seeing things clearly became a survival skill.

If you are standing at the beginning of this process, I want to reach you before the system begins to gaslight you the way your abuser once did. When we first leave an abusive relationship, we are in a fog. The fog slowly lifts as healing begins, but family court can pull you right back into another kind of distorted reality, the same but different.

Institutional betrayal happens when the very systems that claim to protect us end up mirroring the abuse we escaped. It can leave you doubting your memory, your instincts, even your sanity. You may start to wonder if you are the problem, just as you once did in the relationship. The toll on your mental health can be profound.

My goal in writing this is to help you see clearly before that happens, to remind you that the confusion is not yours to carry. The distortion belongs to the system.

Family court is not what it appears to be. It is not designed for trauma, abuse, or the safety of children. It is a legal and financial system that rewards procedure, compliance, and endurance. The people who look official are often not neutral. They are part of an ecosystem that depends on ongoing conflict.

This does not mean you are powerless. It means you need to understand the terrain before you step in.

Here are a few things I wish I had known sooner:

1. Titles do not guarantee protection.
When I first walked into family court, I was asking for everything on the à la carte menu. Minors counsel? Absolutely. Custody evaluation? Yes please. Mediation? I was willing to try anything that might help.

What I found instead was a system filled with professionals who were desensitized and dismissive. They had seen so many families that they stopped seeing people. They reduced abuse to high conflict and treated me as though I was half of the problem. The idea that it takes two to tango was their default lens.

Learn what each role actually means, and how much power each person has in your case. There are some you may want to lean on for support, and others you should avoid entirely.

2. Families with resources are often targeted.
In family court, money changes everything. Families with financial resources often become targets. Once a case is labeled high conflict, the system multiplies. Evaluators, minors counsel, therapists, and parenting coordinators step in, each one adding opinions, delays, and invoices.

This is not a network of protectors. It is an industry built on conflict. The longer your case drags on, the more there is to gain for those involved. Protect your finances and your focus.

While it is important for everyone in family court to choose their battles wisely and lift their vision above the noise, it is especially critical when a family has financial resources. Those resources will be drained like a swamp if you are not strategic.

3. You will be under a microscope, so build your foundation early.
One of the most painful realities of family court is that healthy parents are often scrutinized while unhealthy ones manipulate the system with ease. The court doesn’t know either of you. From the outside, both stories can sound convincing, especially when the abusive parent is skilled at performing charm and credibility.

This is why documentation is not optional. Keep records, build a timeline, and treat every communication as if it will someday be read aloud in court. This isn’t about being performative or proving your worth. It’s about building a clear, factual foundation that reflects your integrity and consistency over time.

At the same time, stay rooted in your truth. Know who you are as a person, a parent, and a coparent. The system may not see it right away, but authenticity has a way of cutting through distortion. Let your steadiness become part of your evidence.

4. Find community early.
Family court isolates parents by design. It strips away your support network and replaces it with professionals who are paid to stay neutral. That isolation is dangerous. It is how abusers keep control.

Community restores balance. Find those who speak your language and understand the coded chaos of this system. In my darkest days, the only people who could ground me were the ones who had lived it. They didn’t need me to explain why I was terrified of a custody exchange or why a new court filing made me sick to my stomach. They already knew.

5. Protect your energy as fiercely as your evidence.
This system will test you. It will drain you. Do not let it define you. Educate yourself, rest when you can, and remember that this is not about proving your worth. It is about protecting your children and rebuilding your peace.

Family court is not built to see the whole truth. But you can learn how to navigate it without losing yourself in the process. The earlier you start learning, the stronger your foundation becomes.

You are not naive for trusting the system. You were hopeful. Now you are wiser, and that wisdom will protect you in ways the court never could. Seeing the system clearly was not the end of hope. It was the beginning of survival and strategy.

The fine print: I am not an attorney and am not qualified to provide legal advice. Everything I share is based on personal experience and over a decade of work supporting others through high conflict custody battles. However, it is essential to consult with your attorney before making any legal decisions or implementing strategies discussed here. Your attorney is your legal voice and your advocate in the courtroom. They can help you understand the law in your jurisdiction, evaluate potential risks, and determine the best approach for your unique situation.

About me: My name is Tina Swithin. I am a survivor, a mom, and someone who understands this battle firsthand. I acted as my own attorney and successfully protected my children in a system that I can only describe as inhumane. I am also a blogger, founder of the High Conflict Divorce Coach Certification Program, best selling author (Divorcing a Narcissist), and a fierce advocate for reform in the family court system. I divorced a narcissist and I prevailed.

You can read more about me here.