Co-Parenting with a Borderline Ex: A Therapist’s Guide
LAST UPDATED: APRIL 2026
Leaving a partner with borderline personality disorder is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. If you share children, leaving is only the beginning. Traditional co-parenting advice like “communicate openly” and “be flexible” doesn’t just fail with a borderline ex. It gets weaponized against you. Here’s what actually works: parallel parenting, ironclad structure, radical acceptance, and tending to what the chronic conflict has done to your own nervous system.
Last reviewed: June 2026 by Annie Wright, LMFT
This article is educational and reflects general clinical patterns. It isn’t medical advice, a diagnosis, or a substitute for individualized legal or clinical care. Names and identifying details in every vignette have been changed, and all clients described are composites drawn from many people to protect confidentiality.
If you spent your childhood managing their emotional weather, my self-paced course Balanced After the Borderline names the terrain and gives you the recovery map.
- The Sunday Handoff
- What Does a Borderline Co-Parent Actually Do?
- Why Does Traditional Co-Parenting Backfire?
- What Is Parallel Parenting, and How Do You Do It?
- What Is the Chronic Conflict Doing to Your Body?
- Both/And: Can You Protect Your Children and Still Grieve This?
- The Systemic Lens: Why Is BPD So Gendered and Misunderstood?
- How Do You Begin Healing Without Losing Yourself?
- Frequently Asked Questions
Co-parenting with a borderline ex works only when you abandon traditional co-parenting entirely and adopt parallel parenting: two separate households, minimal direct contact, rigid structure, and communication limited to logistics through a monitored app. The core pathology behind borderline personality disorder, the terror of abandonment and the defense of splitting, doesn’t end at divorce. It reattaches to the new structure, usually through the children. Your job isn’t to fix your ex or correct their story about you. It’s to build a predictable, regulated home your children can count on, and to protect your own nervous system while you do it.
In short: Traditional co-parenting fails with a borderline ex because it assumes two regulated adults. Parallel parenting, rigid structure, and radical acceptance are what actually protect you and your children.
Across more than 15,000 clinical hours, a steady stream of driven women have sat on my couch describing the same impossible situation: they left, and the chaos followed the children home. The framework I return to most is the work of Marsha Linehan, PhD, psychologist and creator of Dialectical Behavior Therapy, who reframed borderline personality disorder not as manipulation but as a nervous system that never learned to regulate. That reframe doesn’t excuse the harm. But it changes what actually works in response to it.
The Sunday Handoff
It’s 4:58 on a Sunday afternoon, and Tessa is sitting in her car in the parking lot of a police station, two minutes early, because she’s learned to always be exactly on time. Never late, which gets her screamed at. Never early, which gets called “hovering.” She’s an emergency physician. She has run codes, delivered terrible news to families at 3am, held steady while a trauma bay filled with blood. And her hands are shaking on the steering wheel.
Her seven-year-old is in the back seat. Her ex-husband’s car pulls in across the lot.
“I thought the divorce would end it,” she told me in our first session, turning her wedding ring, which she still wears out of habit, over and over on a chain around her neck. “I really did. I thought once we weren’t married, the chaos would stop. But it just moved. Last week I was five minutes late for a handoff because of a car accident on the highway, an actual accident, I was one of the physicians who stopped. And he stood in the driveway and told our daughter, in front of her, that her mother was a selfish woman who cared more about strangers than her own child. Then he texted me forty times that night. And the next morning he asked if I wanted to grab coffee and ‘talk about our family.’ I feel like I’m still married to him. I feel like I’ll never not be married to him.”
Sitting with Tessa, I felt something I’ve felt with dozens of driven women across the years. Not pity. A kind of recognition. Here was a woman who could hold absolute steadiness in a room where someone was dying, coming undone in a parking lot on a Sunday. That’s not a character flaw. That’s what happens when the person who was once your closest attachment figure becomes a source of chronic, unpredictable threat, and the courts hand him a standing appointment with you for the next eleven years.
This is the reality almost no one prepares you for. When you divorce someone with borderline personality disorder, their core pathology doesn’t dissolve with the marriage. The terror of abandonment, the defense of splitting, the emotional dysregulation. All of it simply reattaches to the new structure of your life. And because they can’t control you as a spouse anymore, they’ll often reach for the only tether left: the children.
What Does a Borderline Co-Parent Actually Do?
To a co-parent with untreated BPD, children are rarely experienced as separate, autonomous people. They tend to be experienced as extensions of the parent, or as instruments for managing the parent’s own overwhelming internal states. This isn’t always conscious cruelty. Often it’s the machinery of a disorder running without a brake. But the effect on you, and on your children, is real regardless of intent.
In my clinical work, the same patterns surface again and again.
Splitting the children into golden child and scapegoat. The borderline parent often divides the children, casting one as the “all-good” extension of their idealized self and the other as the “all-bad” repository for their shame and rage. If there’s only one child, that child tends to cycle rapidly between the two roles depending on the parent’s mood that day. You can read more about the golden child and the scapegoat dynamic in families like these.
Parental alienation. Because the borderline ex has split you into “all-bad,” they can genuinely believe you’re a danger. From inside that distorted reality, working to sever the children’s bond with you feels protective to them. They may tell the children you don’t love them, that you left the family, that you’re unsafe. It isn’t only malice. It’s a distorted reality being enforced on your kids.
Enmeshment and emotional surrogacy. The borderline parent often leans on the children as emotional support, crying to them about how cruel you are, pulling them into the role of comforter and ally. The child is handed a job no child should carry: regulate the adult.
Manufactured crises as a hoovering tool. The children become the perfect reason to breach your boundaries. “She’s crying and needs you right now.” “I have an emergency, take the kids tonight.” Each engineered crisis pulls you back into contact, feeding the cycle of intermittent reinforcement that kept you attached to the relationship in the first place.
A mental health condition marked by pervasive instability in mood, relationships, self-image, and impulse control, increasingly understood as a trauma-spectrum disorder by researchers including Marsha Linehan, PhD, psychologist and creator of Dialectical Behavior Therapy.
In plain terms: It’s what can happen when someone’s early emotional environment was so inconsistent or invalidating that their nervous system never learned to self-soothe. The intensity, the fear of abandonment, the whiplash mood shifts. These aren’t chosen tactics. They’re adaptations to an environment that never provided the stability every child needs.
A defense mechanism involving the inability to hold opposing feelings about a person at the same time, resulting in an all-or-nothing view of others as either entirely good or entirely bad, as described by Otto Kernberg, MD, psychoanalyst and professor of psychiatry at Weill Cornell Medical College.
In plain terms: It’s the experience of your ex swinging from adoring you to despising you with no middle ground. In their internal world, you’re either the best person alive or the worst, and the shift can happen inside a single afternoon.
“You cannot change someone with borderline personality disorder. But you can change how you respond to them, and that changes everything.”
Randi Kreger, author of Stop Walking on Eggshells
Why Does Traditional Co-Parenting Backfire?
Most family courts, mediators, and well-meaning friends will tell you to co-parent. Communicate often. Stay flexible. Present a united front for the kids. It’s decent advice for two regulated adults. It’s actively dangerous with a borderline ex, and I want to be direct about why.
Traditional co-parenting assumes two people who can set their grievances aside for the children’s sake. An untreated borderline ex generally can’t do this, not because they don’t love the children, but because the disorder overrides that intention under stress.
Here’s what happens when you try to co-parent normally with a borderline ex. Flexibility gets exploited. Agree to shift the schedule once, and you’ll face constant demands, with punishment when you finally say no. Communication gets weaponized. Every text becomes an opening for abuse, gaslighting, or hoovering. And a “united front” is impossible, because they’ll agree to a rule with you and then break it with the kids to prove they’re the fun parent while you’re the rigid one.
So what do you do instead? You stop trying to co-parent, and you start parallel parenting. Bill Eddy, LCSW, JD, a therapist and family lawyer who pioneered high-conflict divorce strategy, built much of the practical framework here, and it’s the approach I’ve watched actually hold up for driven women in the worst custody situations.
What Is Parallel Parenting, and How Do You Do It?
An arrangement in which separated parents raise their children with minimal direct contact and rigidly defined structure, used when the two adults have demonstrated they cannot communicate respectfully, as described in the high-conflict divorce work of Bill Eddy, LCSW, JD.
In plain terms: You run your house. They run theirs. There’s no overlap, no negotiating over bedtimes, no “united front.” There’s a clean, rigid wall between the two homes, and your children learn to move between two separate worlds rather than living inside a war zone.
Parallel parenting rests on three core strategies. None of them are intuitive, and all of them will feel, at first, like giving up. They’re not. They’re what protecting your children actually requires.
Strategy one: the ironclad court order. You cannot rely on verbal agreements, goodwill, or common sense. You need a parenting plan that dictates every detail, leaving zero room for interpretation. Exact times and locations for transitions, so “Friday at 5:00 PM at the police station parking lot,” not “Friday evening.” Holidays and vacations specified down to the hour, year by year. A right-of-first-refusal clause, so that if they can’t watch the children during their time, they must offer that time to you before hiring a sitter. And a decision-making tiebreaker for medical and educational choices, such as deferring to the pediatrician if you can’t agree. Once the order is in place, you follow it exactly. You don’t offer flexibility. You don’t ask for it. The order is your shield.
Strategy two: the communication blackout. Eliminate spontaneous, emotional, verbal contact. Route everything through a court-approved parenting app such as OurFamilyWizard or TalkingParents, where messages are recorded, can’t be altered, and can go straight to the court. Being monitored alone reduces the volume of abuse. When you do have to communicate, use what Eddy calls the BIFF method: Brief, Informative, Friendly, Firm. Keep it short, stick to facts about the children, hold a neutral tone, and leave no opening for argument. And when the bait comes (“Our daughter is sick because you didn’t dress her warmly enough, you’re a terrible mother, also she needs her inhaler refilled”), you respond only to the logistics: “I’ll pick up the inhaler today and send it in her backpack Friday.” You ignore the abuse. You don’t defend yourself. You answer the one real question buried in the attack.
Strategy three: radical acceptance of their narrative. This is the hardest one for most of my clients, and it’s where the driven, competent, prove-it-with-evidence brain fights back the most. You have to radically accept that your ex is going to tell people you’re a monster. Their family, their friends, the teachers, sometimes the court. And you cannot stop them. If you pour your energy into correcting their story, you’ll exhaust yourself and stay emotionally tethered to them for years. Your job isn’t to convince anyone you’re a good person. Your job is to be one, and to document everything. As one client put it to me, after a year of trying to win the narrative war: the people who matter already know the truth, and the people who believe him were never going to be persuaded by me.
What Is the Chronic Conflict Doing to Your Body?
Here’s what almost no one names. The work of co-parenting with a borderline ex doesn’t stay in your head. It lives in your body. In the tightness behind your sternum during an exchange. In the nausea that arrives before a call you already know will go badly. In the strange, sudden exhaustion after a weekend when your child was gone and you were supposedly resting. Your cognitive understanding, the steady internal voice that says “I know this isn’t really about me,” feels painfully far away from what your body is actually doing.
To understand why, it helps to know a little about how the stress response works. In the Polyvagal Theory developed by Stephen Porges, PhD, neuroscientist and distinguished university scientist at Indiana University, your autonomic nervous system has three broad states: a ventral vagal state of safety and connection, a sympathetic state of fight or flight, and a more primitive dorsal vagal state of shutdown and collapse. A regulated nervous system moves fluidly among them as circumstances change.
Co-parenting with a borderline ex disrupts that fluidity. When their dysregulation escalates, your sympathetic system revs: racing heart, shallow breath, a knot in the stomach. But because the relationship is ongoing and unavoidable, your dorsal vagal system may also engage as a shutdown response, showing up as numbness, dissociation, or the sense of “checking out” during an exchange and feeling depleted for days afterward. You end up toggling between hyperarousal and collapse, and your nervous system almost never reaches the ventral vagal state where safety actually lives. That’s why this can feel like an endless battery drain.
Think of your nervous system like a home security system wired far too sensitively. It was installed for a real reason, because the danger was once real. But now it trips at a passing car, a settling floorboard, a buzzing phone. The alarm sounds all night, and the household inside it never fully rests. Which means, in practice, that a single text notification can drop your stomach on an ordinary Tuesday, and you can be short with your own child over something small because your body has been braced for impact since breakfast.
Marisa, a family law attorney in her early forties, came to see me exhausted, with chronic tension headaches and digestive problems she’d started to think of as just part of her life. She described being “wired and tired” at the same time. She understood the neurobiology of BPD better than most clinicians, and she still felt physically ill every time she had to coordinate a parenting plan. Through somatic work, we mapped how her body locked into a bracing pattern during exchanges: shoulders climbing toward her ears, breath going shallow, jaw clenched. That armor was her nervous system trying to prepare for volatility it had learned to expect. The turning point wasn’t more insight. It was learning to feel her feet on the floor, soften her jaw, and lengthen her exhale in the parking lot before an exchange, which slowly began to interrupt the automatic cycle.
This is the piece the smartest women most often miss. Cognitive understanding is necessary and not sufficient. You can recite the neurobiology of borderline personality disorder, rehearse every boundary script, and feel genuinely confident in your plan, and your body can still betray you with panic or shutdown. Because the nervous system doesn’t learn from insight. It learns from repeated, felt experience of safety.
Both/And: Can You Protect Your Children and Still Grieve This?
Driven women in this situation tend to carry a particular double bind. You’re supposed to be strong, capable, endlessly resourced. You lead teams and manage crises. And you’re grieving. Grieving the family you thought you’d have, the co-parent you hoped your ex could become, the childhood you can’t fully protect your kids from. The competent part of you often treats that grief as a weakness to be managed rather than a wound to be tended.
Both/And here means holding two truths that don’t cancel each other. You can be the strong, regulated, protective parent your children need, and you can be a person in real pain who is allowed to fall apart in your therapist’s office or your best friend’s kitchen. Protecting your children doesn’t require you to be unmoved. It requires you to keep the chaos out of their home, which is a very different thing.
Tessa, the emergency physician, struggled with this for months. “I feel like if I let myself feel how sad I am,” she told me, “I’ll stop being able to do the hard parts.” What she came to understand is the opposite. The grief she kept sealed off was leaking out sideways, as exhaustion and short temper, precisely because it had nowhere to go. When she gave the sadness a container, an hour a week where she was allowed to mourn, she had more steadiness left for the parking lot, not less. You’re not lazy. You’re not failing. You’re doing one of the hardest jobs there is, and you’re allowed to grieve it while you do it well.
The Systemic Lens: Why Is BPD So Gendered and Misunderstood?
None of this happens in a vacuum. Borderline personality disorder is diagnosed in women far more often than in men, and there’s a growing clinical argument that this reflects bias as much as biology. The same emotional intensity that gets a woman labeled “borderline” is often read, in a man, as passion or drive. Meanwhile, the diagnosis carries a stigma so heavy that many clinicians won’t say it out loud, which leaves people who could benefit from treatment like DBT undiagnosed and unsupported.
You spent your childhood managing their emotional weather.
A focused self-paced course on the specific damage of being raised by a borderline parent, the emotional dysregulation, the chaos, the role you had to play to survive it. Including what you were never given social permission to grieve.
There’s a second systemic layer that lands directly on you. Driven women are socially trained to be the emotional managers, the peacekeepers, the ones who hold everyone else together. That conditioning runs deep, and a borderline ex’s dysregulation triggers it like a hair-trigger. You know, intellectually, that you shouldn’t step into the chaos to fix it. But the internalized message that your worth depends on smoothing things over keeps pulling you back in. This is sometimes called the “good daughter” wound: the early lesson that love was conditional on being compliant, responsible, and endlessly accommodating.
Here’s how that abstraction lives in an ordinary week. It’s the Sunday-night dread before a handoff. It’s rehearsing, in the shower, how you’ll explain to a friend why “he seemed so charming” is exactly the point. It’s the family court mediator who keeps using the word “conflict,” as if you both contributed equally to a dynamic that one person is driving. In my clinical work I think it’s essential to name this plainly: the family court system frequently fails survivors of high-conflict, covert abuse, because the harm leaves no visible bruise and the abuser often presents beautifully in a mediation room. Your difficulty being believed isn’t a personal failure. It’s a system doing roughly what it was built to do.
How Do You Begin Healing Without Losing Yourself?
Co-parenting with a borderline ex is a marathon, not a sprint, and it asks for both legal strategy and nervous system care. In my work with clients in this situation, the healing tends to move along two tracks at once.
Build your professional scaffolding. You need two people in your corner. First, an experienced, clear-eyed family law attorney who understands high-conflict divorce and Cluster B personality dynamics, not a mediator and not a “collaborative” lawyer who will urge you toward a compromise the other side will exploit. Second, a trauma-informed therapist for yourself, to help you hold boundaries, manage the chronic stress, and process the grief. Many parents also find it wise to get their children into therapy with a clinician who understands family systems and parental alienation.
Be the anchor at home. Children of a borderline parent live in chronic unpredictability, so your house needs to be its opposite. Consistent rules, consistent routines, consistent emotional reactions. Be a little boring. Boring is safe. Don’t badmouth their other parent, even when they’ve badmouthed you. When your child repeats a lie (“Dad says you don’t want to pay for my soccer”), respond neutrally and factually: “I’m sorry he feels that way. I love watching you play, and I’ve already paid the registration.” And when they come home dysregulated, validate their experience without attacking the other parent: “It sounds like things were really chaotic this weekend. That must have felt scary. You’re safe here now.”
Do the somatic work. Because the trauma lives in the body, the healing has to reach the body. Somatic Experiencing, developed by Peter Levine, PhD, works directly with the activation your nervous system has been holding, rather than asking your body to wait while you process things cognitively. EMDR helps discharge the physiological charge attached to specific painful memories, so a court hearing or a cruel text stops flooding you the way it once did. And a small daily nervous system practice matters more than any occasional grand gesture: five minutes of extended-exhale breathing, a slow walk that feels more like wandering than exercise, a warm shower taken with real attention to sensation. These aren’t cures. They’re daily reminders to a vigilant nervous system that, in this moment, the threat has passed.
If you’re exhausted by the constant battles, I want you to hear this clearly. You are doing the hardest, most important work of your life. By holding the line, by refusing to be pulled into the chaos, by making your home a safe harbor, you’re giving your children the single thing they most need to come through their childhood intact: one healthy, regulated parent. If you’d like support with that work, you can explore therapy with Annie or take our free quiz to get a clearer sense of where to begin.
Q: Isn’t parallel parenting bad for my kids? Everyone says children need their parents to cooperate.
A: Children need low conflict far more than they need visible cooperation. When cooperation isn’t possible because one parent is dysregulated, forcing contact between the parents actually increases the conflict the children are exposed to. Parallel parenting reduces that exposure by keeping the two households separate. Your children get one calm, predictable home instead of a constant, low-grade war conducted across both.
Q: My ex keeps sending long, accusatory messages. Do I have to respond to all of it?
A: No. Respond only to the logistical questions buried inside the message, and ignore the rest. Use the BIFF approach: Brief, Informative, Friendly, Firm. A single factual sentence answering the one real question is a complete and appropriate reply. You are not obligated to defend yourself against accusations, and doing so almost always escalates rather than resolves.
Q: What if my ex tells the kids terrible things about me? Shouldn’t I set the record straight?
A: Correcting the record directly usually backfires, because it puts the children in the middle and pulls you into the conflict. Instead, respond to a repeated lie neutrally and factually, without attacking their other parent, and then let your consistent behavior over time do the real work. Children are remarkably good at noticing, over years, which parent is steady and which one is chaotic. You don’t have to win the argument. You have to be the safe place.
Q: I understand the neurobiology completely, so why do I still feel physically sick before every exchange?
A: Because insight and physiology are different systems. Your understanding lives in your thinking brain, but the stress response lives in your body and nervous system, and the body doesn’t update just because the mind has. This is exactly why body-based approaches like Somatic Experiencing and EMDR help where talk therapy alone often hasn’t. The goal is to give your nervous system new, felt experiences of safety, not more information.
Q: Is it wrong that I feel relief when the kids are at their other parent’s house, and then guilt about the relief?
A: It isn’t wrong, and the guilt is worth gently setting down. Living in chronic vigilance is genuinely depleting, so the relief you feel is your nervous system finally getting a chance to exhale. Rest during your off-time isn’t a failure of devotion. It’s what allows you to be the steady, present parent your children need when they’re back with you.
Q: Will things get easier as the children get older?
A: Often, yes, though not in a straight line. As children mature, they gain more capacity to observe both parents clearly and more agency over their own time, which can reduce the hold a borderline parent has. Your steady, non-retaliatory presence over years is what makes the difference. The consistency you’re building now is an investment that tends to pay off as they grow into their own understanding.
- Eddy, B. (2011). BIFF: Quick Responses to High-Conflict People, Their Personal Attacks, Hostile Email and Social Media Meltdowns. Unhooked Books. [Referenced re: the BIFF communication method and high-conflict co-parenting strategy.]
- Eddy, B., & Kreger, R. (2011). Splitting: Protecting Yourself While Divorcing Someone with Borderline or Narcissistic Personality Disorder. New Harbinger Publications. [Referenced re: parallel parenting, court orders, and legal strategy.]
- Linehan, M. M. (1993). Cognitive-Behavioral Treatment of Borderline Personality Disorder. Guilford Press. [Referenced re: BPD as a disorder of emotion dysregulation and the DBT model.]
- Mason, P. T., & Kreger, R. (2010). Stop Walking on Eggshells: Taking Your Life Back When Someone You Care About Has Borderline Personality Disorder. New Harbinger Publications. [Referenced re: living with and disengaging from borderline dynamics.]
- Lawson, C. A. (2000). Understanding the Borderline Mother. Jason Aronson. [Referenced re: the impact of a borderline parent on children and the golden child / scapegoat split.]
References
Peer-Reviewed Research (Vancouver)
- Porges SW. Polyvagal Theory: Current Status, Clinical Applications, and Future Directions. Clin Neuropsychiatry. 2025;22(3):169-184. doi:10.36131/cnfioritieditore20250301. PMID: 40735382.
- Linehan MM, Comtois KA, Murray AM, et al. Two-year randomized controlled trial and follow-up of dialectical behavior therapy vs therapy by experts for suicidal behaviors and borderline personality disorder. Arch Gen Psychiatry. 2006;63(7):757-766. doi:10.1001/archpsyc.63.7.757. PMID: 16818865.
- Payne P, Levine PA, Crane-Godreau MA. Somatic experiencing: using interoception and proprioception as core elements of trauma therapy. Front Psychol. 2015;6:93. doi:10.3389/fpsyg.2015.00093. PMID: 25699005.
Books & Foundational Sources (Chicago Author-Date)
- Kernberg, Otto F. Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism. Jason Aronson, 1975.
- Bowlby, John. Attachment and Loss, Vol. 1: Attachment. Basic Books, 1969.
Read Annie’s weekly essays on rebuilding after relational trauma.
Weekly Substack essays from Annie Wright, LMFT on relational trauma, recovery, and the House of Life framework. For driven women who want a structured path back to themselves.
WAYS TO WORK WITH ANNIE
Individual Therapy
Trauma-informed therapy for driven women healing relational trauma. Licensed in 15 U.S. jurisdictions, including Colorado (telehealth only).
Executive Coaching
Trauma-informed coaching for driven women navigating leadership and burnout.
Fixing the Foundations™
Annie’s signature course for relational trauma recovery. Work at your own pace.
Strong & Stable
The Sunday conversation you wished you’d had years earlier. 25,000+ subscribers.
Annie Wright, LMFT
LMFT · Relational Trauma Specialist · W.W. Norton Author
Helping driven women finally feel as good as their résumé looks.
Annie Wright is a licensed psychotherapist (LMFT #95719) and trauma-informed executive coach with over 15,000 clinical hours. She works with driven women, including Silicon Valley leaders, physicians, and entrepreneurs, in repairing the psychological foundations beneath their impressive lives. Annie is the founder and former CEO of Evergreen Counseling, a multimillion-dollar trauma-informed therapy center she built, scaled, and successfully exited. A regular contributor to Psychology Today, her expert commentary has appeared in USA Today, Forbes, Business Insider, Inc., NBC, and The Information. She is currently writing her first book with W.W. Norton.
Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist (LMFT #95719)
15,000+ direct clinical hours
CA LMFT95719 · CO MFT.0003236 (telehealth only) · CT 003806 · DC LMFT200001447 · FL TPMF356 · IL 166.012270 · ME MF8600 · MD LCM1206 · NH 1030 · NJ 37FI00254800 · NY 002805 · TX 206391 · UT 14300323-3902 · VA 0717002589 · WA MFT.LF.70098096
Creator of House of Life™ and Fixing the Foundations™
The Everything Years (W.W. Norton)
Founder & former CEO, Evergreen Counseling
Regular contributor to Psychology Today. Expert commentary has appeared in USA Today, Forbes, Business Insider, Inc., NBC, and The Information.
