Every time a gavel strikes in family court, it does not just close a case; it echoes inside the heart of a child. Judges, attorneys, and lawmakers often approach custody and family law decisions through the lens of statutes, precedents, and procedure.
Yet what too often goes unseen is the emotional fracture those decisions leave behind.
As a mental health professional with a doctoral degree in marriage and family counseling, and as someone who has personally walked through the labyrinth of family court, I see firsthand what these rulings do to children.
The law can separate homes, but it should never be allowed to separate hearts. Unfortunately, the reality is this: many decisions unintentionally create trauma that lasts not just a lifetime, but generations.
Parental alienation is one of the most devastating examples.
When a child is turned against a parent, it is not “in the best interest of the child”’; it is in the best interest of anger, control, or unresolved wounds between adults. Alienation tears at a child’s sense of belonging, identity, and safety. It is not merely a legal issue; it is a mental health crisis.
Left unaddressed, it fuels anxiety, depression, attachment wounds, and even perpetuates the same fractured patterns when those children grow up to raise families of their own.
And yet, in our legislative halls and courtrooms, the mental health voice is often absent.
Attorneys and advocacy groups rightly push for reform, but the conversation is incomplete without the clinical perspective.
Trauma cannot be legislated away with legal language alone. Healing requires that mental health be written into the foundation of reform.
But here is the truth: this cannot be accomplished through outrage alone. Mob mentality, anger-driven rhetoric, and constant public calling-out do not foster collaboration; they fracture it further. If our children are already paying the price of division, how can we afford to model that same division in our fight for change?
What we need is lawmakers and judges who are willing to listen; not just to legal scholars but to the voices of mental health experts, families, and even the children themselves. What we need is a unified voice, where law and psychology do not stand apart but stand together.
What we need is the courage to stop asking what the law allows and start asking what the child truly needs.
Every broken order of custody, every ignored plea for family preservation, is not just a case on a docket; it is a story of a child who will carry the scars long after the courtroom is empty. If we continue to legislate without mental health at the table, we are writing trauma into law.
It is time to preserve families, not divide them.
It is time to speak as one voice, not opposing sides.
It is time to put the true best interest of the child—mental health, identity, belonging, and love, at the center of every ruling.
I am ready to collaborate with lawmakers who want to make a difference.
This is not a battle to be fought in isolation. It is not a battle for anger. It is a call for courage, compassion, and collaboration.
Because the next generation is listening.
Family court decisions do not just close cases—they shape children’s futures. Without mental health at the table, we risk writing trauma into law. It is time to protect families, not divide them.” – Dr. Steve Hudgins
Every time a gavel strikes in family court, it does not just close a case; it echoes inside the heart of a child. Judges, attorneys, and lawmakers often approach custody and family law decisions through the lens of statutes, precedents, and procedure.
Yet what too often goes unseen is the emotional fracture those decisions leave behind.
As a mental health professional with a doctoral degree in marriage and family counseling, and as someone who has personally walked through the labyrinth of family court, I see firsthand what these rulings do to children.
The law can separate homes, but it should never be allowed to separate hearts. Unfortunately, the reality is this: many decisions unintentionally create trauma that lasts not just a lifetime, but generations.
Parental alienation is one of the most devastating examples.
When a child is turned against a parent, it is not “in the best interest of the child”’; it is in the best interest of anger, control, or unresolved wounds between adults. Alienation tears at a child’s sense of belonging, identity, and safety. It is not merely a legal issue; it is a mental health crisis.
Left unaddressed, it fuels anxiety, depression, attachment wounds, and even perpetuates the same fractured patterns when those children grow up to raise families of their own.
And yet, in our legislative halls and courtrooms, the mental health voice is often absent.
Attorneys and advocacy groups rightly push for reform, but the conversation is incomplete without the clinical perspective.
Trauma cannot be legislated away with legal language alone. Healing requires that mental health be written into the foundation of reform.
But here is the truth: this cannot be accomplished through outrage alone. Mob mentality, anger-driven rhetoric, and constant public calling-out do not foster collaboration; they fracture it further. If our children are already paying the price of division, how can we afford to model that same division in our fight for change?
What we need is lawmakers and judges who are willing to listen; not just to legal scholars but to the voices of mental health experts, families, and even the children themselves. What we need is a unified voice, where law and psychology do not stand apart but stand together.
What we need is the courage to stop asking what the law allows and start asking what the child truly needs.
Every broken order of custody, every ignored plea for family preservation, is not just a case on a docket; it is a story of a child who will carry the scars long after the courtroom is empty. If we continue to legislate without mental health at the table, we are writing trauma into law.
It is time to preserve families, not divide them.
It is time to speak as one voice, not opposing sides.
It is time to put the true best interest of the child—mental health, identity, belonging, and love, at the center of every ruling.
I am ready to collaborate with lawmakers who want to make a difference.
This is not a battle to be fought in isolation. It is not a battle for anger. It is a call for courage, compassion, and collaboration.
Because the next generation is listening.
Family court decisions do not just close cases—they shape children’s futures. Without mental health at the table, we risk writing trauma into law. It is time to protect families, not divide them.” – Dr. Steve Hudgins
Every time a gavel strikes in family court, it does not just close a case; it echoes inside the heart of a child. Judges, attorneys, and lawmakers often approach custody and family law decisions through the lens of statutes, precedents, and procedure.
Yet what too often goes unseen is the emotional fracture those decisions leave behind.
As a mental health professional with a doctoral degree in marriage and family counseling, and as someone who has personally walked through the labyrinth of family court, I see firsthand what these rulings do to children.
The law can separate homes, but it should never be allowed to separate hearts. Unfortunately, the reality is this: many decisions unintentionally create trauma that lasts not just a lifetime, but generations.
Parental alienation is one of the most devastating examples.
When a child is turned against a parent, it is not “in the best interest of the child”’; it is in the best interest of anger, control, or unresolved wounds between adults. Alienation tears at a child’s sense of belonging, identity, and safety. It is not merely a legal issue; it is a mental health crisis.
Left unaddressed, it fuels anxiety, depression, attachment wounds, and even perpetuates the same fractured patterns when those children grow up to raise families of their own.
And yet, in our legislative halls and courtrooms, the mental health voice is often absent.
Attorneys and advocacy groups rightly push for reform, but the conversation is incomplete without the clinical perspective.
Trauma cannot be legislated away with legal language alone. Healing requires that mental health be written into the foundation of reform.
But here is the truth: this cannot be accomplished through outrage alone. Mob mentality, anger-driven rhetoric, and constant public calling-out do not foster collaboration; they fracture it further. If our children are already paying the price of division, how can we afford to model that same division in our fight for change?
What we need is lawmakers and judges who are willing to listen; not just to legal scholars but to the voices of mental health experts, families, and even the children themselves. What we need is a unified voice, where law and psychology do not stand apart but stand together.
What we need is the courage to stop asking what the law allows and start asking what the child truly needs.
Every broken order of custody, every ignored plea for family preservation, is not just a case on a docket; it is a story of a child who will carry the scars long after the courtroom is empty. If we continue to legislate without mental health at the table, we are writing trauma into law.
It is time to preserve families, not divide them.
It is time to speak as one voice, not opposing sides.
It is time to put the true best interest of the child—mental health, identity, belonging, and love, at the center of every ruling.
I am ready to collaborate with lawmakers who want to make a difference.
This is not a battle to be fought in isolation. It is not a battle for anger. It is a call for courage, compassion, and collaboration.
Because the next generation is listening.
Family court decisions do not just close cases—they shape children’s futures. Without mental health at the table, we risk writing trauma into law. It is time to protect families, not divide them.” – Dr. Steve Hudgins
Every time a gavel strikes in family court, it does not just close a case; it echoes inside the heart of a child. Judges, attorneys, and lawmakers often approach custody and family law decisions through the lens of statutes, precedents, and procedure.
Yet what too often goes unseen is the emotional fracture those decisions leave behind.
As a mental health professional with a doctoral degree in marriage and family counseling, and as someone who has personally walked through the labyrinth of family court, I see firsthand what these rulings do to children.
The law can separate homes, but it should never be allowed to separate hearts. Unfortunately, the reality is this: many decisions unintentionally create trauma that lasts not just a lifetime, but generations.
Parental alienation is one of the most devastating examples.
When a child is turned against a parent, it is not “in the best interest of the child”’; it is in the best interest of anger, control, or unresolved wounds between adults. Alienation tears at a child’s sense of belonging, identity, and safety. It is not merely a legal issue; it is a mental health crisis.
Left unaddressed, it fuels anxiety, depression, attachment wounds, and even perpetuates the same fractured patterns when those children grow up to raise families of their own.
And yet, in our legislative halls and courtrooms, the mental health voice is often absent.
Attorneys and advocacy groups rightly push for reform, but the conversation is incomplete without the clinical perspective.
Trauma cannot be legislated away with legal language alone. Healing requires that mental health be written into the foundation of reform.
But here is the truth: this cannot be accomplished through outrage alone. Mob mentality, anger-driven rhetoric, and constant public calling-out do not foster collaboration; they fracture it further. If our children are already paying the price of division, how can we afford to model that same division in our fight for change?
What we need is lawmakers and judges who are willing to listen; not just to legal scholars but to the voices of mental health experts, families, and even the children themselves. What we need is a unified voice, where law and psychology do not stand apart but stand together.
What we need is the courage to stop asking what the law allows and start asking what the child truly needs.
Every broken order of custody, every ignored plea for family preservation, is not just a case on a docket; it is a story of a child who will carry the scars long after the courtroom is empty. If we continue to legislate without mental health at the table, we are writing trauma into law.
It is time to preserve families, not divide them.
It is time to speak as one voice, not opposing sides.
It is time to put the true best interest of the child—mental health, identity, belonging, and love, at the center of every ruling.
I am ready to collaborate with lawmakers who want to make a difference.
This is not a battle to be fought in isolation. It is not a battle for anger. It is a call for courage, compassion, and collaboration.
Because the next generation is listening.