There’s something no one tells you about family court until it’s too late: it doesn’t just break families—it breaks people.

I’ve been covering family court injustice for a while now. I’ve told my own story. I’ve helped others tell theirs. I’ve written draft after draft of articles based on firsthand accounts—mothers, fathers, grandparents, even kids who are now grown. And every time I think I’m publishing another story of survival, of courage, of truth, something horrifying happens.

They panic.

Emails flood in.
“Can you take the article down?”
“Can you change my name?”
“I’m scared. What if the judge sees it? What if my ex retaliates?”
“What if I lose my child for good?”

It’s not a one-off. It’s a pattern. A deep, systemic trauma response. People want to tell the truth—until the fear kicks in. And that fear isn’t irrational. It’s earned.

Because the family court system in America doesn’t function like a court. It functions like a mafia racket.
You speak out? You lose more.
You name names? You lose custody.
You fight for your rights? You’re called uncooperative, unstable, even abusive.

I started writing about this to help. I thought I was offering therapy. A platform. A path to healing through truth. But the truth doesn’t set people free in family court. It puts a target on their back.

This system feeds off your pain.
It profits from your silence.
It scares you into submission, until all you are is a shell of the parent you once were.

And how terrifying is that? That a court—supposedly designed to resolve conflict and protect children—makes good parents fear for their lives?

Let me repeat that:
We have a government-run system where fit, loving parents live in terror.
Terror of retaliation.
Terror of being silenced.
Terror of being erased from their children’s lives.

Some of them whisper to me, “I’m not sure I can keep living like this.”
Others say nothing at all, vanishing into silence, because the trauma is too much.
Some never recover.

How the hell did we let it get this far?

Family court isn’t just broken. It’s predatory. It’s a profit-driven execution machine, dressed up in legalese and false virtue. And it’s robbing children of their parents every single day, all while judges, lawyers, and court-appointed grifters collect checks soaked in the blood of broken families.

Don’t tell me it’s about the child’s best interest.
Don’t feed me that line when I’ve watched parents sob into their phones, begging for justice, praying for one more chance to hold their son or daughter.
This isn’t justice. It’s extortion.
It’s abuse.
It’s state-sanctioned emotional murder.

And I’ve had enough.

I’m tired of watching the fear win.
I’m tired of walking this line, wondering if my words will destroy someone’s custody case, even if they’re true.
I’m tired of pretending this is just a legal issue. It’s a human rights crisis.

If you’re reading this and you’ve been through it—you already know.

If you’re not, then believe me when I tell you: this system kills people. Not just in the figurative sense. It drains them of joy, purpose, and sometimes life itself.

So what are we going to do?

Are we going to keep letting this happen—because it’s hidden behind the curtain of “confidentiality” and “judicial discretion”?
Or are we finally going to rip that curtain down and say enough?

Because the people running this system—the ones enabling this trauma, this corruption, this genocide of parenthood—they are no better than mobsters. They are criminals.
Only they don’t need to hide in the dark.
They operate in the open.
In black robes. With gavels. Backed by our tax dollars.

I know some of you fear what will happen if you speak out.
But what happens if we don’t?

What happens if we keep letting judges take children from safe, loving homes because it lines someone’s pocket?
What happens when we allow attorneys and court therapists to label fit parents as unstable for defending themselves?
What happens when the fear wins?

We lose our future.
We lose our children.
We lose ourselves.

So to the ones reading this and feeling the sting of recognition: I see you. I believe you. I won’t stop. Even if you’re too scared to have your name out there, even if we redact, rewrite, or never publish—it matters.

Your truth matters.
You matter.

But this machine won’t stop until we make it stop.
Until we drag every corrupt actor into the light and demand real accountability.
Until we stop letting fear dictate our silence.

Do something, America.
Stand up for your children.
Stand up for the parent you used to be.
Stand up before there’s nothing left.

Because this isn’t just court.
This is a war for the soul of the American family.
And we are losing.

---

If this story resonates with you, or if you’re too afraid to speak but want your story told anonymously, reach out. You are not alone—and you deserve to be heard.

📩 Contact: mikethunderphillips@gmail.com
🛒 Visit my Gumroad shop for helpful resources
💵 Donate to support independent family court journalism.