How did she end up going Pro Se?
and how AI became her Co-Counsel..
Disclaimer: Details have been modified to protect privacy. This post reflects a personal experience of someone close to me and is shared for awareness only. I am not a lawyer, and this is not legal advice. Legal situations vary, and readers should consult a qualified attorney for advice specific to their circumstances.
Most people spend their weekends catching up on laundry, groceries, or Netflix. Not her.
She spent hers preparing for court over an optional extracurricular activity.
Yes, optional.
Not a life-saving medical procedure.
Not a school enrollment requirement.
Not even a parking ticket.
An extracurricular course.
Optional.
Too optional.
It all started when she received mail on a Saturday, the kind that instantly spikes your heart rate because it’s from an attorney and addressed using former name. Inside was a legal motion asking for full legal custody, claiming she had “refused” to let her child enroll in a program.
This wasn’t her first rodeo with courthouse paperwork. Over the years, she had seen multiple lawsuits from her ex-husband. In every one of those cases, she had hired an attorney. She believed in protecting herself, because she knew she was a good mother doing her best for her children. And yes, that protection came at a steep financial cost.
This motion, however, stood out. It felt… silly.
Because:
She never refused anything.
The course wasn’t required for admission to MIT or any university.
But wait, it got better.
The motion claimed there was an urgent deadline of December 15, so urgent that temporary sole decision-making authority needed to be reassigned immediately. A full custody detour… over what was essentially an optional online summer class.
She panicked.
The hearing was set for Tuesday, leaving one business day to respond. One day to find an attorney, explain the situation, and prepare filings and spend thousands of dollars again.
That’s when her husband, who is endlessly supportive, gently suggested:
“How about going pro se?”
For those unfamiliar, pro se means representing yourself in court without an attorney. In theory, empowering. In reality? Absolutely terrifying.
She didn’t know the process.
She didn’t know the forms.
She didn’t know how to object to a motion.
She didn’t know where to start.
So, she started with a blank board.
She read the motion again. And again. She collected screenshots of emails and messages showing she never refused enrollment. Then she did what any reasonable millennial co-parent would do next:
She opened the website hosting the extracurricular activity.
Deadline?
JANUARY. FIFTEENTH.
A full month later.
At that point, she knew the claims in the motion could be dis-proven easily. She decided to represent herself. Pro se. Latin for: You’ve got this….
And because she had limited time and maximum stress, she leaned into AI.
She turned to ChatGPT with very specific prompts - not for legal advice, but to understand process, structure, and format. She cross-checked everything against court rules and official websites. Carefully. Repeatedly. (Always cross-check.)
Suddenly, her kitchen table became a command center. Exhibits spread out like a true-crime documentary audition.
AI helped her draft:
A motion objection that sounded like she actually knew what motions were.
An affidavit in proper first-person legal grammar.
Exhibit cover pages with phrases like “hereto attached” which she would never say in real life.
Guidance on what needed to be notarized and signed.
AI became her unpaid paralegal, one that works 24/7.
On Monday, she signed and notarized everything and handed the packet to the court clerk. She felt proud… but also aware the hardest part was still ahead.
She reviewed her exhibits again. She memorized them. Took extra copies, just in case. Watched pro se hearings on YouTube. Hand-wrote her key points so they’d be right there when she needed them.
She didn’t sleep well.
She never imagined speaking in front of a judge, let alone without an attorney. But she knew she was telling the truth. And she relied on that strongly.
Tuesday arrived.
She dressed formally, dropped her child off at school, and reached the courthouse early. It was cold - outside and inside. The courtroom felt stiff and serious. Opposing counsel arrived confidently, suit pressed, briefcase in hand, probably carrying a law degree.
She arrived with an organized binder… and the quiet awareness that she had no idea what she was doing.
When the judge entered, her mind briefly screamed: What did I do?
The attorney spoke first. She listened as one does when allegations are 80% dramatic interpretation and 20% facts. Then the judge turned to her.
She stood up. Her hands shook. Her first sentence came out wrong. The second came out better. Slowly, she found her rhythm.
Calm. Steady. Honest.
She sounded prepared. Almost… lawyer adjacent.
The outcome?
The motion was denied.
No dramatic custody shifts.
No emergency rulings.
Just the quiet validation that she didn’t need to spend thousands of dollars explaining an optional extracurricular activity.
Here’s what she learned:
Courts are serious.
People can be dramatic.
And AI? AI is a powerful tool if you use it thoughtfully, carefully, and with constant verification.
Above all, constantly proving that she is a good mother to random people is tiring and exhausting.
If you ever find yourself drafting legal documents on a Sunday night for a Monday hearing, don’t panic.
Breathe.
Organize your facts.
Ask for help - human or artificial.
And remember: sometimes, standing up for yourself is exactly what you’re meant to do.
Hereto, therefore… you’ve got this.
Signing out,
Sana
Beautifully written