For a year, our dad has been opposing the decisions and requests of the court. He is prolonging a case that should have been brief. As a result of accumulating lawyer fees, our mom, Angeline, had to open a new credit card. She has already been struggling to afford a 1-bedroom apartment for herself and 16-year-old daughter, Amie. I wish I could say that this can end amicably, but our dad has a history of abusive behavior and is not acting kindly to our mom in court.

UPDATE: On August 4th of this year, barely a week after we launched this fund, Angeline got suddenly laid off. She is still applying to jobs.

TW: domestic violence; mention of killing, self-harm, suicidal ideation

My whole life I’ve been terrified of my dad.

I remember him as a cold, stone-faced man who rarely laughed and who punished every little accident and nearly every emotion. I remember him shouting as loud as he could until me or my mom backed down from a disagreement in fear. I remember adults telling me that my parents fight because they love each other, and my mom comforting me by telling me that my dad’s anger was his way of caring about me. I remember pockets of happiness that I could only achieve by playing a part and diluting my true self. I remember writing pages and pages in my diary about how much I hated my dad, but still thinking I was a messed up and sinful child because everyone in my life told me that his rage was normal. Which meant that his disgust with my tears, his degrading adamance that his opinions were the only correct ones, and his sexist comments to my mom were all normal. And so for 19 years I withdrew, told myself to forgive, closed my door, covered my ears.

On March 30th of 2020, my parents had the worst fight I’d ever witnessed – which is saying a lot. The next day, my mom told me that my dad broke her phone in the parking garage of our apartment in front of the other residents. He’d banged the phone against our car so wildly that he’d broken his finger. He’d always been an angry man, but I’d never known him to break things, let alone in front of non-family.

On Wednesday, April 1st, 2020, my dad suddenly demanded that me and Amie sit at the kitchen table. And then he cursed out my mom at the top of his lungs. I remember how red his face was and the dark, frenzied look in his eyes. It was like he was possessed. Everything after happened in slow-motion. Amie fell out of her chair, screaming. I dragged her out of the apartment and we spent the next hour crying and shaking on the sidewalk. Somehow I managed to call a family friend, who picked us up and had us stay at her place until our parents picked us up later in the evening, weirdly cordial. I was 19, and Amie was 10.

The next day, my mom drove me to another family friend’s so I could use their keyboard for my online keyboard class. Coincidentally, this was the only time in the week that we could talk in privacy. My mom told me that while Amie and I were gone:

1. My dad told my mom that if she wanted to leave the marriage, she would be breaking up the family and consequently preventing him to properly live overseas and carry out his Christian missionary work, which would hinder the work that he does for God, meaning that my mom is from the devil.

2. My mom said she wouldn’t leave so she could be with her children.

3. My dad then said that since she decided to stay, she must agree to a contract. This contract had already been printed and contained a series of living conditions for my mom, including:

• My mom would not be allowed to own any of her own smart devices.

• All devices and email accounts would be shared between them. My mom would be allowed a flip-phone.

• My mom was not allowed to leave the house or meet up with anyone without first notifying and receiving permission from my dad.

• My mom was to tell my dad when she would be back every time she left, specify her purpose for leaving the house, and disclose who she was meeting and why.

4. My mom asked to think about the contract until Sunday, April 5th.

5. My dad agreed as if it were a huge act of generosity.

I finally saw who my dad really was. There was nothing we could do now but survive. I’d seen my dad abuse my mom this past week and knew in my gut that when Sunday rolled around and she still refused to sign, he would beat her to death. Our only option was to run away before the weekend.

I formed a plan with my mom for us to carry out the next day, Friday, April 3rd. We would plan ordinary activities – Target run, movie night – individually with my dad that would allow us to subtly pack two suitcases for my mom, Amie, and myself, and drive away unnoticed in the evening to a family friend’s.

When my mom and I got home, I ran into our apartment managers. They told me they’d heard my dad’s yelling the day before and wanted to help however they could, so I told them around what time we’d be leaving the next evening.

The unbelievable part is that our plan worked. My heart was pounding in my chest the entire day, but we escaped. The apartment managers helped us carry our luggage to the parking garage and kept watch for us as we drove away. We sobbed and sobbed the entire 40-minute drive.

Even more unbelievable is that our escape was so short-lived. My parents filed for separation, not divorce. My mom never pushed for child support because she knew it would be tough on him, and we didn’t file a restraining order because we still somehow felt bad for him. Eventually our family decided that Amie would live with my mom and I would live with my dad whenever I wasn’t on my college campus, and we would be their financial dependents respectfully. Amie would stay with my dad every other weekend and have one meal with him on the off weeks.

A summary of the past 5 years:

- My dad never paid for child support. This meant that my mom and sister have been sharing a 1-bedroom apartment for 5 years and could never afford to move into a place where Amie could have her own bed. She’s 16 now.

- My mom requested that he start paying in October 2024, and my dad ignored court-mandated orders twice.

- Instead, without consulting my mom, he began keeping Amie at his place for the entire school week and dropping her off at my mom’s just for the weekend, which was the opposite of the agreement they’d kept since 2020. He claimed it was easier because my mom had a 9-6 job and he worked from home. When the court started garnishing his bank account, he wrote to the Department of Child Support Services saying Amie spent more time with him, and therefore they should lower the amount.

- One morning on the drive to school, Amie told him that mom was picking her up that day. He got so furious that this happened without his permission that he started sending speech-to-text messages to our mom, screaming into his phone and driving recklessly. Amie cried uncontrollably nearly the whole day. When our mom came to pick her up, Amie broke down again because he had texted her saying he was there to pick her up and was calling her relentlessly. Amie decided to not see our dad at all for a few weeks. He showed up at her school later that week with her favorite food, without telling her, and asked the office to alert her that he wanted to talk to her. She waited to get the food until after he’d left. A couple weeks later, he told Amie that he wanted to get a pet that she’d been wanting and keep it at his place.

- As a result of his bank getting garnished, he: has lied to the court about having a low income; refuses to provide three-time court-requested documents on his income and expenses; removed me from his car insurance and took Amie to Disneyland (with free entry) but refused to pay for her food, both due to the belief that now that our mom is getting his money, she should handle all our expenses.

- In the summer of 2021, my dad, Amie, and I made a trip to our home in Kyrgyzstan. My dad was yelling at Amie, accusing her of being lazy for not finishing homework. She started crying. From the other side of the room, I calmly asked him to stop shouting at his 11-year-old child. He crossed the room towards me while shouting at me, grabbed the arm rests of my chair, and screamed so close that I felt his spit on my face, “WHY ARE YOU JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER,” then told me to get out. I sat outside against the wall, crying and shaking and wanting to hurt myself for almost an hour. He forced me to talk about it the next week. Never apologized, just said he was disciplining his kids.

- I had no choice but to live with him after finishing college in December 2023 until I could afford to move out in April 2025. Every single day I fought the temptation to commit self-harm or suicide instead of living with him.

- A few days after Christmas in 2024, he started an argument with me past midnight. He blocked the doorway to my room so that I could not leave. His expression and body language was the same as in 2020 when he looked like he wanted to kill my mom. I truly believed he would start beating me. As I tried to get past him, he violently grabbed my face so that I instinctively pushed him away and fell to the floor in shock. I shut my bedroom door and cried uncontrollably for an hour, almost harming myself multiple times. I finally packed a small bag and left in the middle of the night for my mom’s.

- A couple months ago, I wrote an official statement to the court attesting to my dad’s abusive nature. My dad told my sister that our mom is influencing me to tear the family apart.

This has been a five-year battle and counting. My mom, sister, and I have suffered so much in mental health at the hands of my dad, but we could not have survived this long without those of you who’ve supported us along the way. And if you’ve just met us, we are so grateful that you’re here now. Any amount at all will help so much and provide huge emotional and moral support. The funds will go to paying Angeline’s divorce lawyer, and taking the burden off of essentials like groceries and car payments. Hopefully soon we can focus on moving my mom and sister into a place where Amie can have her own bedroom to finish high school well. Thank you for hearing our story.

Gratefully,

Aspen, Angeline, and Amie