Messy Lessons in Co-Parenting and Getting My Sh*t Together

Lost In The Algorithms — Odyssey # 54

So there I was, walking in the parking lot outside the gymnastics studio, supposed to pick up my daughter at 5:45. But damn it, I lost track of time, caught up in one of those phone calls that feel like they’re reshaping the universe. The next thing I knew, my ex’s friend was blowing up her phone, and my daughter was getting anxious, wondering where the hell her dad was.

I roll in ten minutes late — it might as well have been eight hours by what happened next. Cue the showdown with the ex, sparks flying, not romantic. And, of course, this triggers me. Now, my daughter’s in tears, and there I am, feeling like the world’s biggest asshole.

But I guess this is life, right?

It’s messy AND beautiful.

Trying to parent side-by-side with an ex feels like the hardest gig on the planet. There are moments when the exit sign looks like a neon beacon of bliss.

Just run, it says.

But where to?

Like the title of my book, there’s nowhere to go.

I’m not writing this because I’ve got all the answers or because I think I’m some guru. Hell, I’m probably screwing up more than most. I’ve spent a lifetime…