It Started With a Hesitation at the Car Door
Three years ago, Ryan and his nine-year-old son JT had a normal relationship. Not perfect, divorce is never perfect, but normal. JT was enthusiastic about both homes. Exchanges were civil. His school records were stable. By any reasonable measure, the family was adjusting.
Then something shifted.
It happened slowly at first. A comment here. A delayed exchange there. JT lingering in his mother’s car a little longer than usual before coming inside. Easy enough to explain away. Kids adjust to divorce on their own timelines. Nobody wanted to read too much into it.
But eighteen months later, Ryan hadn’t seen his son in six weeks. JT had blocked his father on his iPad. And Amanda had filed a motion asking the court to suspend Ryan’s parenting time entirely, until, as she put it, JT “feels safe.”
Ryan’s attorney filed back. And now Oakland County Family Court has to answer one of the hardest questions in all of family law: is this a child expressing genuine fear, or a child who has been taught to?
The Word Everyone Uses and Almost Nobody Understands
Before we go any further, let’s talk about the phrase that gets thrown around in divorce attorneys’ offices more than almost any other: parental alienation.
Every frustrated parent has heard it. Many have said it. A surprising number are absolutely convinced it’s happening to them, often within weeks of a contentious custody dispute beginning, despite having no background in child psychology and no real understanding of what the term means legally or clinically.
Here’s the first thing to know: Michigan courts do not formally recognize “Parental Alienation Syndrome” as a diagnosis. The science is genuinely contested. Mental health professionals disagree, sometimes sharply, about whether it constitutes a clinical condition, whether it’s over-diagnosed, whether it’s weaponized against protective parents, and whether the concept itself does more harm than good in litigation. You can put two qualified psychologists on the stand and get two completely different opinions about the same set of facts.
So if Michigan courts don’t recognize the syndrome, how do they handle cases like Ryan’s?
They focus on conduct. Specifically, they look at one of the most important factors in Michigan’s best interest statute – MCL 722.23(j) – which asks about each parent’s willingness and ability to facilitate and encourage a close and continuing relationship between the child and the other parent. That factor has quietly become one of the most litigated in contested custody cases, precisely because it captures what alienation actually looks like in practice without requiring anyone to agree on a diagnosis.
What Ryan Actually Documented
Whatever label you put on it, the pattern Ryan documented over eighteen months is the kind of thing that gets a court’s attention.
The child began reporting statements attributed to his mother: that Ryan only cared about money, that he had cheated and ruined the family, that JT didn’t have to come for parenting time if he didn’t feel safe. Amanda denied making any of these statements. But they kept appearing, in JT’s own words, in a voice that sounded less and less like a nine-year-old and more and more like an adult processing an adult grievance.
Exchanges became a production. JT would refuse to exit Amanda’s vehicle. Amanda would stand by without intervening. Thirty, forty-five minutes would pass. Over eight months, Ryan logged twelve parenting time denials. Amanda’s explanation was consistent: the child was too anxious. There was no medical diagnosis of an anxiety disorder. No therapist had formally assessed him for one.
Then the language escalated. JT began telling his father “I hate you,” “I want a new dad,” “I’m afraid of you.” Ryan has no CPS history. No abuse findings. No allegations of any kind prior to the divorce.
And then Amanda enrolled JT in therapy, without notifying Ryan, despite the fact that they share joint legal custody, which means both parents have the right to participate in major decisions about the child’s welfare, including mental health treatment. The therapist was selected unilaterally. Before the therapist had ever interviewed Ryan, she was already using language suggesting the child felt “unsafe in father’s environment.”
Finally, and this is the kind of evidence that tends to matter in courtrooms, Ryan obtained screenshots of Amanda texting a friend: “If JT doesn’t want to go, I’m not forcing it. Eventually the court will see he’s the problem.”
That text message is not proof of alienation. But it is a window into intent. And courts notice windows.
Why This Is So Hard to Litigate
Here’s where the legal reality gets complicated, and where parents on both sides of these cases often feel frustrated by how slowly and carefully courts move.
Judges in Michigan, and Oakland County judges in particular, are acutely aware that the parental alienation framework has been misused. It has been invoked by abusive parents trying to discredit a child’s legitimate fear. It has been used to punish protective mothers who were genuinely trying to shield children from harm. The history of the concept in family court is messy, and judges know it.
So when a parent walks in with a stack of parenting time denial logs and a claim that the other parent is systematically destroying the relationship, the court doesn’t take it at face value. It asks hard questions. Is there any credible abuse evidence that might explain the child’s fear? Is the child’s reluctance developmentally normal? Does the child show signs of genuine trauma, or do they seem to be parroting adult language they don’t fully understand?
Psychologists who evaluate these cases are trained to look for specific indicators: a disproportionate rejection of one parent without a plausible explanation, the absence of any ambivalence in the child’s feelings (all good versus all bad thinking), adult language and concepts being expressed by a child too young to have developed them independently, and a tight enmeshment with the favored parent that leaves little room for the child’s own experience.
None of those indicators, alone, prove anything. Together, in a well-developed evidentiary record, they can paint a picture that a court is willing to act on.
“In our experience handling high-conflict custody cases throughout Southeast Michigan, the parents who approach alienation claims strategically – documenting patterns calmly, requesting forensic evaluations early, and letting the statutory factors speak for themselves – consistently get better outcomes than parents who walk into court leading with the label. Michigan courts respond to evidence of conduct, not psychological terminology.”
What Amanda’s Defense Actually Looks Like
Because this blog is committed to giving both sides a fair picture, let’s be clear about something: Amanda’s position is not frivolous, even if the text message to her friend raises eyebrows.
A nine-year-old is not a toddler. He has opinions, preferences, and the capacity to form genuine feelings about his environment. Courts do not and should not treat a child’s expressed fear as automatically manufactured simply because the other parent finds it inconvenient. If JT has experienced yelling, emotional volatility, or an environment that genuinely feels unpredictable to him, his reluctance may be real, and Amanda’s decision not to physically force him into Ryan’s car may reflect a genuine attempt to honor her child’s distress rather than an attempt to sabotage the relationship.
Amanda’s argument, that this is a child expressing autonomy, not a child being manipulated, is one that courts take seriously. A fit parent who can present as calm, child-centered, and genuinely focused on JT’s wellbeing rather than on winning a custody battle has a real chance of prevailing here. The text message hurts. The unilateral therapy enrollment hurts. But neither is automatically disqualifying if the rest of her conduct tells a coherent story about a mother trying to protect her son.
What Michigan Courts Are Actually Likely to Do
The range of outcomes in a case like this is genuinely wide, and it depends heavily on what a forensic evaluation reveals.
If the court-ordered evaluator finds interference but not a severe or systematic pattern, the most likely result is a parenting time enforcement order, make-up time for Ryan, co-parenting counseling, and a firm warning to Amanda that continued interference will have consequences. No custody change, but a clear message that the court is watching.
If the evaluator finds significant alienating conduct, language planted in the child, therapy manipulated, exchanges deliberately sabotaged, the court has the tools to act more decisively. A gradual shift toward primary physical custody with Ryan, reunification therapy, and a reduction in Amanda’s parenting time are all within the court’s authority. These outcomes are not common, but they happen when the evidence is clear and the pattern is egregious.
And if any credible evidence of abuse surfaces, if JT’s fear turns out to have a legitimate foundation that Ryan’s motion has simply failed to account for, the court’s posture shifts entirely. Father’s motion gets denied, parenting time may be supervised, and the investigation goes in a very different direction.
One thing that experienced Michigan family law practitioners know well: the attorneys who win these cases rarely use the words “parental alienation” at all. They let the statutory factors do the work. They show the pattern of conduct under factor (j). They request the forensic evaluation early. They keep their client calm and focused. And they resist the temptation to turn a custody hearing into a psychological debate that benefits no one, least of all the child at the center of it.
Whether you’re the parent who suspects alienation or the parent being accused, what matters most is how your case is built. To discuss your custody situation with the family law attorneys at Boroja, Bernier & Associates, call (586) 991-7611 or schedule a consultation.
What Every Parent Should Take Away From This
Whether you are the parent filing the motion or the parent defending against one, these cases carry a lesson that applies across the board.
- The court’s only client is the child. Every argument, every piece of evidence, every strategic decision should be evaluated through that lens. Judges have very good instincts for when a custody battle has become more about winning than about the child’s actual welfare – and they respond accordingly.
- Document everything, but document it calmly. Parenting time denial logs, text messages, exchange records – these matter. But the parent who documents obsessively and presents as vindictive often undermines the very case they’re trying to build. The goal is to show a pattern, not to bury the court in grievance.
- Joint legal custody is not optional. Enrolling a child in therapy without notifying the other parent, making unilateral decisions about medical care, excluding a parent from school communications – these are not just bad form. They are violations of a legal order, and courts treat them as such.
- Children are not messengers, buffers, or allies. Every time an adult grievance travels through a child’s mouth, that child pays a price. Courts see it. Therapists see it. And eventually, when those children are old enough to understand what happened, they see it too.
A Final Thought
Somewhere in Oakland County, a nine-year-old boy is caught between two parents who both love him and both believe they are right. Whether what’s happening to his relationship with his father is alienation, genuine fear, or something more complicated than either label captures, that question will be answered, slowly and imperfectly, by a court doing its best with the tools the law provides.
That’s the reality of parental alienation cases in Michigan. Not a clear villain. Not a simple diagnosis. Just a family in pain, a child in the middle, and a legal system trying to find its way to the truth.
If you believe your relationship with your child is being deliberately undermined, or if you’ve been accused of alienating behavior, the strategies available to you under Michigan law are real, but they require careful, experienced guidance. These cases are won and lost on facts, patience, and how well your attorney understands the difference between what you feel and what a court can act on.
The family law attorneys at Boroja, Bernier & Associates handle high-conflict custody matters throughout Macomb County, Oakland County, Wayne County, and Southeast Michigan, Central Michigan, and Mid-Michigan. If your relationship with your child is at stake, preparation and strategy matter more than emotion, and that’s exactly what we bring to every case. Because you deserve better.
Call (586) 991-7611 or schedule a consultation online.



