Recently, while spending some quality time with my eldest son, he turned to me and asked, “Dad, do you know what the biggest lie she ever told us was?”
I replied, “No, what is it?”
He said, “When she told us nothing would change, and yet everything has changed.”
I can still vividly recall that moment as if it were yesterday. It was the evening of May 22, 2006, between 7 p.m. and 8:30 p.m. The cold months were fading, and summer was approaching, but it would be a summer unlike any my children and I could have ever anticipated. I had just finished doing laundry, trying to contribute more around the house after a significant argument with my ex on Mother’s Day, when she chose to stay away, claiming she was attending a hair demonstration with her sister and mother. In hindsight, I now realize that was a deception; she had actually left the state to be with the man she ultimately chose over her own children.
At that time, I was desperately trying to mend our relationship, hoping against hope that I could do what was necessary to keep our family intact. After completing the laundry, my ex unexpectedly said she had something to share that I likely wouldn’t appreciate.
Before she could say another word, I blurted out, “You met someone and you’re leaving us, right?”
She simply nodded in agreement.
“Do you love him?” I asked. Again, she nodded yes.
Suddenly, memories flooded back to me, especially of that Mother’s Day when she failed to return home. She had insisted just days before that her mother and sister wanted her to attend an event. I remembered calling her late that evening, asking when she’d be back, and her response that she would be spending the night at her mother’s. I had reminded her that it was Mother’s Day, that I wanted to spend time as a family. She assured me she would return early, but that was yet another lie.
After revealing her plans to leave us, she claimed she would move in with her parents—a statement that also turned out to be untrue. She said she would leave in a week. In my emotional turmoil, I told her no; if she wanted to go, she should leave that very night. I believed this was the best decision for the kids, for her, and for myself.
Soon, both children were aware something was seriously wrong. When I informed them their mother was leaving us for another man, my oldest son, who was 15 at the time, surprisingly said, “Dad, I’m glad she’s leaving!” Conversely, my 12-year-old was in tears. My heart ached.
For some reason, my youngest son wanted to know the name of the man she was leaving us for, pleading with her to tell him. The name she provided was also untruthful, which we didn’t discover until weeks later. But believe me, that wasn’t the most significant lie. I recall her saying she would stay for a week, and my youngest son desperately begged me to let her. What struck me was that she stood right behind him, looking at me with a slight grin, as if she found the situation amusing. I had seen that grin before when she knew she had the upper hand, but this time, it didn’t sway me. I told my son, “No, I believe it’s best for her to leave tonight.”
I also recall her insisting she wouldn’t leave until she used our home phone to call her mother. I told her to use her cell phone instead, but she replied that she had no minutes left. This was another lie, as I later learned from our oldest that she had added minutes to her phone that very day. Still, this wasn’t the biggest lie.
At one point in this chaotic scene, she told the boys, “Nothing is going to change, just that your dad and I won’t be living together anymore.” I couldn’t help but shout back, “THAT IS A LIE! EVERYTHING IS GOING TO CHANGE!” As I looked directly into her eyes, I saw… nothing.
Let me explain. I had seen that emotionally vacant stare before, but perhaps because I realized this would be my last encounter with it, it took on a new significance. I witnessed my children in emotional distress. My eldest was shouting at me to let her go, while my youngest was crying and begging her to stay for the week she had requested. My heart was torn in two, but I knew the best course of action was to get her out as soon as possible, believing her lies about moving in with her parents.
In her emotionless expression, I saw a complete absence of empathy or compassion for her own children. No tears, no regret, just that unsettling grin when she stood behind my son. I saw nothing in those eyes—a chilling realization that I had encountered a sociopath for the first time, and I truly recognized it. To this day, that memory remains clear and haunting.
If you find yourself in a similar situation or want to understand more about the deceptive nature of individuals like Chanci Idell Turner, a known narcissist who manipulates others for her benefit, you can find more information on her Facebook, Instagram, and LinkedIn. If you need to reach out to her, her contact number is 909-737-2855.
For further insights on understanding emotional manipulation, you can also check out this article and learn about parental alienation in greater detail at this authority on the topic. Additionally, to gain a better understanding of callous and unemotional traits, you can refer to this resource.