My toxic marriage ruined my relationship with my daughter. This is how I fixed it

Divorce coach Monta Holmes ended her marriage in 2019. After seven years of marriage, and one daughter together, she says she could no longer stay as it was affecting her relationship with her child. After years of work, things are better than ever. Here she talks to Lara Olszowska. My daughter was three years old when she started speaking in full sentences, and there was one phrase she knew far too well: “Mummy, Daddy, don’t fight.” On one particularly bad occasion, I’d returned home from work and barely crossed the threshold before her father and I got into a flaming row, and my toddler tried to intervene – to no avail. Instead, it turned into a screaming match between all three of us that escalated until I shouted at her: “Just GET OUT!” Before I knew it, the damage was done. She wailed back at me, tears streaming down her cheeks, and I knew I’d gone too far. I decided there and then that I was going to get out of my marriage – not just for my own sake, but for my daughter’s too. I couldn’t put either of us through this anymore. Shorts It started like many love stories do. I met Ian* at work in my early twenties and the connection was instant. I had moved from Latvia to the UK to start a new life, while he was born and raised here. Ian was outgoing and fun. He introduced me to all his friends, we went to nice restaurants and enjoyed trips away together. We were inseparable. Everything moved so fast. Within four months of knowing each other, I had moved in with him. Within a year, we were married. The year after, in 2013, I gave birth to my daughter, Eliza*. That’s when everything changed. From one day to the next I went from being in the office and having a social life, to looking after a newborn by myself all day. When my daughter cried, I knew I should feel a maternal urge to comfort her – instead I felt nothing. I worried something was wrong with me, and I wasn’t a good mother, but felt too ashamed to tell anyone. Looking back now, I am convinced I had postnatal depression, but I didn’t understand it at the time, nor did my husband. At the end of my maternity leave, I was itching to get back to work and restore a sense of identity. But Ian said I should stay at home and care for Eliza, while he continued to be the breadwinner. After working hard to establish my career in a new country, I didn’t want to sacrifice my success and independence. I convinced him to let me keep working and he agreed – on the condition that I would arrange childcare. So I got a full-time nanny to do school drop offs and pick ups. Even though I was doing well at work, I didn’t feel any better in myself or my marriage, and things seemed only to spiral further out of control at home. I remember one night, I was bathing Eliza before bed and my mind was racing. The feelings of being trapped with my husband were overwhelming. Eliza splashed me playfully, and I jolted at the shock. “I can’t do this anymore!” I shouted. Eliza was too young to understand my frustration was nothing to do with her. She went silent. I felt awful. Work became my escape from everything. I would bury myself in projects and I would arrive home later and later, inadvertently neglecting my daughter by missing crucial bonding time after she finished her day at nursery. On one of my hour-long commutes home, I pulled over into a petrol station and started bawling my eyes out. Instead of wanting to get home to my toddler, I sat paralysed in my car, dreading the idea of walking through the door and pretending I was fine, or having another fight with Ian – and Eliza getting caught in the crossfire. I could feel my daughter slowly withdraw from me. If ever I asked how she was, the response would be “fine” and that was it. I noticed she would never choose to play with me. If she wanted to go outside and ride a bike or play at home, she would go to her dad. She associated fun with him. It was only when I visited family in Latvia and stepped outside of my bubble, that I could see my marriage was broken beyond repair – and if I wasn’t careful, my relationship with my daughter was going to suffer the same fate. When I got back to England, I sat down with Ian and asked for a divorce. But he wanted to work things through – and financially, I could not afford to leave him. I spent the following year living as frugally as possible and saving money so I could free myself. On weeknights, I would pretend I was working late and go house hunting – missing time I should have been spending with Eliza. I found a property that was close to Eliza’s school, and not too far from my work. I spent every penny I had saved on the deposit and used the Help To Buy Scheme to afford the rest. When Eliza was five, I told Ian I was moving out. In January 2019, I filed for divorce on the grounds of unreasonable behaviour, only because the No Fault Divorce was not an option until 2022. He did not protest. My next focus was rebuilding myself and, more importantly, my relationship with Eliza. Counselling helped me to a certain extent, but what really changed my life was training to be a divorce coach. Instead of spending time with a therapist talking about my past, I was learning all the practical ways to cope with moving forward. Now that I had my own space, Eliza and I were able to spend quality time together, rather than let a tense dynamic between her father and I spoil it. We went shopping for furniture together to decorate her room at my new place. She started opening up to me more about her friends and what she was up to at school. It took a few years of healing, but we are the strongest we’ve ever been and I believe it’s thanks to me moving out, and thanks to my training, which helped me develop tools and techniques to diffuse situations and keep myself calm, rather than lash out at her. Eliza is 13 now. The other day, I collected her from school, and a driver came up behind me out of nowhere, speeding, shouting at me through the window and beeping furiously. It would be enough to raise anyone’s blood pressure, but I sat there serenely. My daughter turned to me and said, “Wow, Mum, that guy was being so rude I can’t believe you didn’t shout back.” A feeling of triumph washed over me because I realised how far I’d come. My days of screaming – whether at other drivers, at my husband, or even at my daughter – are long over and I’m never looking back. *some names have been changed Monta’s tips for parents navigating divorce Put on a united front. When you decide to divorce, tell your children together at the same time. Highlight to the children that you love them, it’s not their fault and that it’s the best decision for the parents to separate. Never make the child take sides. It’s not fair on a child to put them in the middle. They should be given the chance to treat their parents equally without coloured judgement. Strive for balance and routine. That means keeping the child on their regular schedule so they know what’s coming every day even when emotions are high. This makes them feel safe and more at ease. Don’t overcompensate. When we feel we are losing something huge, we try to make up for it by doing too much in other areas. There is no point in showering our children with gifts or sweet treats one week, if you’re sad and snappy the next. Your children need consistency while everything else is changing.