The Custody Math That Doesn’t Add Up
Disclaimer: Yes, I’m in the middle of a divorce—but this blog doesn’t necessarily reflect my own situation. Some stories are pulled from real conversations, shared experiences, and that collective female sigh we all exhale when the same pattern shows up again…and again.
Everywhere you look, there’s a guy pounding his chest about wanting “50/50 custody.” It’s their favorite battle cry—loud, righteous, dripping with self-importance.
But let’s be real: where was that energy before the split?
Because somehow, these same men who contributed maybe five, ten percent of the actual parenting during the relationship are now fighting tooth and nail to be declared “equal.” Not because they suddenly discovered a passion for bedtime routines or packing lunches—but because equality sounds noble when you’re trying to dodge accountability.
They weren’t there when you were up at 2 a.m. with a screaming baby. They weren’t the ones juggling work, dishes, and doctor appointments while running on caffeine and fumes. Their “me time” was sacred, but your exhaustion was expected.
These are the men who’d come home from work, collapse on the couch, and claim they needed to “decompress.” Meanwhile, their wives—overstimulated, running on crumbs of sleep and self—kept going. Because someone had to.
And now, post-separation, they want to split the time evenly.
Fifty-fifty. Half the credit, none of the history.
The Math They Don’t Understand
Fifty-fifty only works when both halves are actually whole.
When one parent has been the constant — the scheduler, the comforter, the grocery runner, the everything — and the other floats in and out, it’s not balanced. It’s a redistribution of labor disguised as fairness.
And honestly, it’s not even about the hours. It’s about the load.
Emotional, mental, logistical—the kind of work that doesn’t fit neatly into a calendar.
These men don’t realize that 50/50 custody doesn’t just mean “half the time.” It means half the effort, half the decision-making, half the responsibility. You can’t demand equal rights to the title without earning the role.
It’s Not a Power Trip—It’s a Partnership
But that’s the thing: for too many of them, it is a power trip. It’s about winning, not parenting. About control, not care.
They talk about “wanting to be involved,” but rarely show up for the boring parts—the permission slips, the fevers, the therapy appointments. Because involvement isn’t about photo ops and weekends. It’s about consistency.
If you weren’t showing up for your kids before the breakup, demanding 50/50 after it doesn’t make you a hero. It makes you late.
And for anyone standing on the edge of leaving but already dreading the “I’ll fight for 50/50” speech—start documenting.
Keep a log of your day versus his. Note who’s handling appointments, meals, bedtime, school communication. Keep emotion out of it—just facts. Save texts that show lack of equal responsibility. Screenshot the “I’ll get to it later” replies. If you can, save video clips that show what “equal parenting” really looked like—hours of him on the couch playing Fortnite until the sun comes up.
Because in court, evidence speaks louder than excuses. Document.
For the Ones Still Doing It All
To the women out there who’ve been carrying it all—the invisible weight, the emotional labor, the exhaustion nobody sees—I see you.
You are the reason your kids feel safe. You are the stability, the soft landing, the one who keeps the gears turning even when everything else falls apart.
And if he ever tries to weaponize “equal time” against you, just remember: equality without effort is entitlement.
You’ve already been doing the heavy lifting.
He’s just trying to claim the credit now that someone’s watching.
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