When Father's Day Hurts: Grieving a Loss You’re Still Forced to Co-Parent With

There are holidays that land like a hug and others that hit like a gut punch.
Father’s Day can be both.

Maybe you’re a father whose heart aches because your children weren’t with you this weekend. Maybe every unanswered text, every withheld visit, every manipulative move from your ex made you feel like you don’t even exist in their world anymore.

Or maybe you’re a mother who’s spent the weekend watching your kids wrestle with confusion. Disappointment. Maybe your ex showed up just enough to cause damage but not enough to provide safety, consistency, or care. Maybe they didn’t show up at all.

And you're the one left explaining why.

This Father’s Day was heavy for me, too, but for a different reason.
I recently lost a parent. A real, visceral loss. The kind that leaves you gutted, quiet, and completely undone.

And yet, what’s strange… is that grief gave me something my divorce never has:

Closure.

When someone dies, there’s a finality. A ritual. A space to say goodbye, even if it's through tears and brokenness.

But with divorce, especially a high-conflict one, that space never comes.
You’re grieving a life that’s still technically alive. You’re trying to heal while being dragged back into conflict over and over again. And when children are involved, that tie becomes permanent.

This past weekend, in the depths of my own grief, all I wanted was for my ex to step in, to take the emotional burden off my shoulders for the kids, even just for a moment.

But if you’ve been in a high-conflict dynamic, you know that’s a luxury we rarely get.
Because co-parenting with someone who thrives on control, conflict, or chaos doesn’t pause just because your heart is breaking.

So if you're in that space, carrying all the emotions, all the parenting, and none of the support. I want you to know: you're not alone. You're not imagining it. And no, you're not “too sensitive.”

You're just living through a version of grief that never ends cleanly.

So how do you cope when Father’s Day didn't feel like a celebration?

Here are a few practical and emotional strategies that can help:

1. Name the Grief, All of It

Whether you’re grieving time lost with your kids, the parent you once hoped your ex would be, or a recent personal loss like I am. Acknowledge it. Call it what it is. Grief is grief. And you’re allowed to feel every inch of it without justifying or minimizing it.

2. Protect Your Energy Like It’s Sacred (Because It Is)

If you’re still checking messages from your ex, still hoping for a change, still rereading manipulative texts; pause. Your peace is not a negotiation. Put boundaries in place. Use parallel parenting tools. Limit direct contact. Say less. Document more.

3. Give the Day New Meaning

If the traditional meaning of Father’s Day hurts, rewrite it.
Start a new tradition with your kids. Or spend the day doing something grounding for yourself: a hike, a journal session, a support group call. It’s okay if your version of the day looks nothing like the Hallmark card version.

4. Connect With People Who Get It

Isolation is a weapon of coercive control. Don’t let it win.
Whether it’s an online support group, a coach, a therapist, or a trusted friend, you need people in your corner who understand the unique hell of parenting through conflict and grief.

5. Let the Emotion Move Through You

This one is hard, but vital: Don’t resist the wave. Let yourself cry, scream, journal, pray, whatever moves that grief through your body and out of your chest. Suppressing it won’t protect you. Processing it will.

REMEMBER, You are allowed to grieve a parent and a partner at the same time.
You’re allowed to mourn what should have been while fighting for what still can be.

Divorce might not offer closure. But you can still choose healing.

You can still reclaim your power, protect your peace, and build a life your kids feel safe in—even if you're doing it without the support you deserve.

And if you're ready for support that actually understands what you’re going through? I’m here. This work, this mission, it’s built for survivors like you.

You don’t have to carry it all alone anymore.