The story of how I lost my son Sol Benari

 I've refrained from discussing this publicly thus far, and declined many interviews by the press, in the hope things will resolve before my death. However, it appears to be going nowhere, so I wanted to share this story. I imagine some of you might one-day run across my child Sol (now going by they/them, I’ve heard). They and I don't have a relationship and haven't been together for 1.5 years, although not by my choice.

My ex-wife has been attempting to present it as Sol's decision or desire, but that is a lie. The truth is that she began sabotaging our relationship from the day we split up. There have been repeated messages and attempts to dissuade me from seeing him, and later, several lawsuits against me, with the claim that me practicing polyamory is ruining their life, and that the values of loving more makes me a bad parent.

As we all know, every story has 3 sides. Mine, hers, and the truth. No one is obliged to believe me over her, but the fact is that 3 separate family court judges ruled in my favor (and one even berated and threatened her). Those are professionals that deal with such stuff daily. You might think I won because I had a better attorney, but I had none and she had 2 of the most expensive in the state.

When she couldn't get her way in court, she went rogue and refused to let me see my child, and no request or threats helped, as she knew family court is toothless against a mother and that I was too sick to do much about it anyway.

Concurrently, she pressed-on with a campaign of hate, trying to portray any and everything about me as evil, including even vilifying my partner's children. Emails were taken out of context and evidence was doctored to make me look bad (even the family court judge pointed out several instances). For an 11-12 year old child, the word of a mother means everything, and being subjected to 24x7 manipulations left me powerless. She also hired a religious conservative therapist to further try to program my child with her views.

My child wouldn't accept this, of course, and reached out to me behind his mother's back, but they was subject to constant monitoring and our secret communications were discovered and shut-down. Eventually she convinced them that they shouldn't see me, and that's where we stand today.

The answer is YES. She's aware of my condition, but she doesn't care (likely even elated at my upcoming demise). It's not a matter of a misunderstanding or communication, but a meticulous campaign, part of which includes her attempting to convince my child that my health situation is not real by digging up old videos of me, from the time I was better. There have been numerous other terrorist tactics over the years, including threatening phone calls and break-ins into my old apartment and into my computer.

As I’m days away from my final resting, it's clear I have lost this one and my child won't get to say a final goodbye. They may not even know I’m gone until they are an adult. Meeting force with force is not my way. I create and give, rather than take, and so I’ve created a "care package" for them, which they will receive upon adulthood. Hopefully, they will be ready to handle the full story by then. If they do, they will get to know their father more than the vast majority of people, as I’m a very prolific writer and my work has touched the lives of thousands.

To anyone reading this; there's probably not much you can do. I’m not dealing with a rational, compassionate or reasonable person, and this isn’t a scenario where some phone call or email will nudge the needle. However, the PNW LGBTQ community is tight and I’m sure my child will run across many of my friends, former-colleagues, partners and cuddlerz in the future. It will be too late for me, but perhaps through your eyes and words, they will get to see who I was, what I did for others, and maybe have a sense of pride of the impact I had on our world.

Please keep me and my story in mind. Discuss it. Share it. The world isn't always fair and even I can't succeed in everything I do. Maybe the annals of history will reflect the truth and the injustices that happened. Maybe you’ll be part of it. I hope so.