Why I wrote Love Over Exile

The Book
1

I started writing this book because I needed it to exist — and it didn’t.

When I was in the fire — fighting in court, dealing with false allegations, watching my children slip away — I couldn’t find a single book that felt real. Everything was either academic papers full of jargon, or angry manifestos, or cheerful self-help that completely missed how devastating this actually is. I needed something that said: yes, this is as bad as you think it is AND you can survive it. Not just survive — you can come through it more loving and more whole than you were before.

The book has three parts, and they mirror my own journey.

Part One is my story. Not just another chronicle of courtrooms and custody battles — though all of that is there. The real story unfolds in the unseen landscape of the heart. The struggle to hold onto love when hatred surrounds you. To find peace when your world collapses. To remain whole when despair threatens to consume you.

Part Two is the practical guide I desperately needed at the beginning. Understanding what parental alienation actually is, recognising the patterns, navigating the legal system, finding the right professional help. I became my own researcher out of necessity — immersing myself in the work of Baker, Warshak, Childress, Harman, and others. I gathered and distilled the most essential insights into something clear and accessible, so you don’t have to do that work alone while your house is burning down.

Part Three is about what ultimately saved me. Not knowledge, not tenacity, not therapy — though all of those helped. What saved me was a spiritual awakening. A discovery of unconditional love and forgiveness that went beyond anything my mind could have engineered. One night, at my absolute lowest, when everything I had fought for was lost, I surrendered. And in that surrender, a flood of love poured through me that changed everything.

I wrote this for the parent who is googling “my child won’t see me” at 2 AM. For the one who has been falsely accused and feels the world has gone insane. For the one who has been told to “give it time” by people who have no idea what this feels like.

Your heart is capable of more strength than you currently believe possible. That is what this pain is here to teach you. That’s the message of the book, and that’s why I wrote it.

Malcolm

2

Your writing here has literally changed everything for me. When I found this website two years ago, I was in that exact same place — sitting with legal bills, waiting for texts that never came, feeling completely lost.

My situation was different but the same, you know? My ex had moved back to Belgium with our kids after the divorce, and suddenly I was the “dangerous” one who needed “supervised visits only.” The Dutch courts were… well, let’s just say they weren’t exactly rushing to help. I read everything I could find but nothing felt real until I found your articles and this community.

The part about staying ready — that hit me so hard. Because you’re right, we can’t just disappear. I kept showing up to those awful supervised visits in that sterile room in Amsterdam, even when my youngest would barely look at me. I stopped trying to “win” them back and just focused on being consistently me.

It’s been slow, but we’re getting there. I see them every other weekend now. Real time, in my flat. My daughter still won’t talk about the “missing years” but she’ll help me make pannenkoeken on Sunday mornings. That’s enough for now.

Thank you for writing what we all needed to read. And I can’t wait for the book — if it captures what you’ve been sharing here, it’s going to help so many people.

3

God, Malcolm. This hit me right in the chest. I remember those 2 AM Google searches so clearly — that desperate hunt for someone, anyone, who understood what this actually feels like.

When I was in my darkest patch about eighteen months in, I would have given anything for a book like yours. Everything I found was either cold academic stuff or angry rants, and I just needed someone to say “yes, this is devastating AND you’re still a good mum.” I ended up writing pages and pages in my journal just to get the thoughts out of my head, much like you did that November night.

The bit about staying ready — that really gets me. That’s exactly what I tell myself on the hardest days. My three are still completely cut off after three years, but I’m still here. Still their mum. Still ready for whenever they’re ready. Thank you for writing what so many of us needed to read.

4

This is exactly why I keep coming back to this website, Malcolm. I was eighteen months in and drowning in all those academic articles that made me feel like a case study instead of a mum missing her children.

I remember reading your post about staying ready — how you kept Emma’s room exactly the same for those three years. I’d been doing the same thing with my two’s bedrooms and my sister kept telling me I needed to “move on” and turn one into an office. Your writing made me realise that keeping their spaces wasn’t denial, it was hope. It was staying ready, like you said.

I’m four years in now and we’re still in that awful limbo. But your words about refusing to disappear — that’s become my mantra on the hardest days. Thank you for writing something that actually understood the specific hell of this. And I’m so glad you and Emma are finding your way back to each other. Can’t wait for the book when it comes out.