I walked into divorce court at 62 after giving that man forty years of my life. I watched him sit there smiling while his attorney calmly suggested I was “confused” and “unstable.” Then my 12-year-old granddaughter stood up behind me with a tablet and asked the judge if she could show something I didn’t even know existed. The courtroom in Columbus, Ohio felt too bright, like the lights were trying to expose every flaw in your story. I kept my hands folded so tight my knuckles hurt, because if I