"Marie was in her 30s, not a rebellious teenager. Her friends knew her as a gregarious woman who expertly applied thick winged eyeliner behind her glasses, unafraid to stand out. But due to Marie’s intellectual disability, her father, Jim, had ruled her life for 11 years as her legal conservator. Marie knew she needed assistance with things like budgeting and making medical decisions, but she wanted to call the shots. “I need help with life!” she’d later say. “But I want them to show me, not do it for me.” In recent years, she had assembled a network of lawyers, family members, and others who shared her belief that she was capable of so much more. That’s why Marie was in the locker room, whispering to them on the phone. She was plotting her steps toward freedom.

In court filings, Marie and her supporters would accuse Jim of controlling her hard-earned money, forbidding intimate relations with boyfriends, isolating her from people he disliked, and verbally abusing her, calling her “stupid” and “fat.” He had relocated her from city to city as he chose and wanted to move her out of California altogether. Marie said the older she got, the more she craved independence, but every attempt to claim it was held up as proof that she didn’t deserve it."