Angelina Jolie’s nanny cautions her against repeating history with Brad Pitt.

Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt are still caught in a contentious divorce dispute.

While details about the former couple are limited, sources have shared information with the media that sheds light on the disintegration of their marriage.

Among the notable voices is Krisann Morel, Jolie’s childhood nanny, who claims that the actress is vilifying Pitt and manipulating their children amid their ongoing battle.

Morel played a significant role in Jolie’s early life, reportedly forming a strong bond with Jolie’s mother, Marcheline Bertrand, who tragically passed away from cancer.

Morel gained public attention in 2010 when Andrew Morton released an unauthorized biography about Angelina Jolie. Unlike many anonymous sources in the book, Morel chose to speak on the record, providing an intimate look at Jolie’s challenging upbringing. Her narrative reveals a troubled childhood filled with painful experiences.

The turmoil began with the separation of Jolie’s parents, Marcheline Bertrand and Jon Voight, in 1976. Jolie was merely six months old when her father left the family for a young drama student, leaving a significant emotional void.

“Jon Voight was a terrible father to her at that time. He betrayed her mother, leaving Marcheline heartbroken,” Susan Margaret, a friend of Jolie’s, recounted in an interview.

“She confided in me that Jon emotionally abused her. Angelina faced many difficulties growing up due to the turmoil,” she added.

Bertrand sacrificed her own acting dreams to focus on nurturing Jolie and her older brother, James Haven Voight. During Angelina’s early years, they moved between various rented apartments in New York City.

“We weren’t poor, but there was an expectation that we had wealth because I was the child of an actor,” Angelina revealed in a 2002 interview.

However, the family’s financial difficulties were not the most challenging aspect of their lives. Morel indicated that Bertrand struggled with her feelings towards Jolie, as the young girl bore a striking resemblance to her father. This tension escalated to the point where Bertrand kept Jolie secluded in a separate apartment within their building for two years, attended to by a rotating team of caregivers.

“Angie was a very lonely and troubled child. Her mother became convinced that Jon was cheating even before she was born,” Morel shared with the Daily Mail in 2016.

This separate apartment was originally meant for Jon’s production company, but Jolie ended up living there with nannies while her mother avoided seeing her, staying three floors below. Occasionally, Bertrand would come upstairs to visit Morel, expressing her sorrow over her situation.“It broke my heart. It still upsets me. I really felt for that child,” Morel wrote in Angelina: An Unauthorized Biography.

Morel revealed that Angelina and her brother were largely raised by nannies and often found themselves caught in the middle of their mother’s struggles. According to Morel, Jolie was often weaponized against their father.

“Jon was depicted as the villain, and Marcheline successfully turned both children against him. But this led to years of pain and unresolved wounds that linger to this day,” Morel told the Daily Mail.

Following the disintegration of “Brangelina,” Morel feared that Angelina might repeat her mother’s mistakes with Pitt. She noted the disturbing parallels between Angelina’s current situation and her own difficult childhood, especially when Bertrand severed ties with Jon Voight.

Morel expressed her worries, stating, “I wish I could tell her, ‘Please don’t alienate Brad from the children’s lives. Don’t use them as weapons during your divorce. And don’t demonize your husband.’ Because that’s exactly what your mother did during her breakup with your father, resulting in a lonely and traumatic childhood for you. Why would you inflict that same tragedy on your kids?”

Current Situation

Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt have six children: three adopted (Pax, Maddox, and Zahara) and three biological (Shiloh, Vivienne, and Knox). Since their high-profile separation in 2016, the former power couple has been engaged in a complicated custody battle.

The court drama has been filled with ups and downs. Jolie initially held full custody until May 2021, when Pitt was awarded joint custody. However, this decision was overturned after Los Angeles Superior Court Judge John W. Ouderkirk, who ruled in Pitt’s favor, was removed from the case due to concerns regarding his impartiality.

Currently, Jolie has primary physical custody, while Pitt has scheduled “custodial time” with their minor children. Yet, a final resolution appears distant.

As recently as April, Jolie filed court papers in Los Angeles accusing Pitt of physical abuse—claims he has vehemently denied.

Reports indicate that one of their daughters, Vivienne, has chosen to drop “Pitt” from her last name, with her sister Shiloh also seeking a legal name change. Additionally, 19-year-old Zahara is reportedly using “Jolie” as her surname, and their eldest child, Maddox, 22, also doesn’t include “Pitt” in his name.

For Pitt, these name changes symbolize a deeper estrangement that has developed over the years. According to Little Things, this growing distance has had a profound emotional impact on him, with a source stating, “Brad was devastated by this choice.”

Further escalating the tension, his son Pax harshly criticized Pitt in a 2020 Instagram post that recently resurfaced. “You have made the lives of those closest to me a constant hell,” Pax allegedly wrote on his private account. “You may tell yourself and the world whatever you want, but the truth will come to light someday.” He concluded with, “So Happy Father’s Day, you f*****g awful human being.”

A Heartfelt Plea

Currently, Shiloh is the only child legally changing her name, but the overall sentiment seems clear: the children are aligning with their mother amid the ongoing discord between their parents.

Krisann Morel believes Angelina still grapples with abandonment issues, which manifest in her relationship with her children today.

“I don’t know Brad Pitt, but he seems like a decent person, and he resembles Jon, so this is a clear repetition of the past. Angie has no real understanding of what a normal family looks like. Brad does; he came from one,” she said in 2016.

“These kids have been through enough. Angie is attempting to sever their connection with their father just as her mother did with hers. There is so little stability for these children as they move around so much—she is threatening to take away the only stability they have.”

I Took in a Beggar with a Baby Because She Reminded Me of My Late Daughter – What She Did in My Home Shocked Me to the Core

At 75, my life was filled with silence and memories until I met Julia, a young mother with a baby, sitting alone by the roadside. What started as a simple act of kindness soon unraveled a story of desperation, betrayal, and an unexpected bond.

At 75, my life had grown quiet. The days seemed longer, each one blending into the next. I spent most of my time thinking about the past. My daughter, Gianna, had died three years ago, and not a day went by that I didn’t think of her.

An elderly woman drinking tea | Source: Pexels

An elderly woman drinking tea | Source: Pexels

My son, Sebastian, lived in another city. He was busy with work and his own family. He called from time to time, but his visits were rare. I missed him, but I understood. Life has a way of pulling us all in different directions.

My life passed quietly as I shopped for groceries and attended my weekly book club meetings.

An elderly woman in a cafe | Source: Pexels

An elderly woman in a cafe | Source: Pexels

One afternoon, after picking up groceries, I saw her. A young woman was sitting by the side of the road, holding a baby wrapped in a thin, worn blanket. Her head was bowed, her face hidden, but something about her caught my attention.

Maybe it was her eyes when she finally looked up—filled with exhaustion and sadness—or maybe it was the way she held the baby so protectively. She reminded me of Gianna.

A sad woman | Source: Pexels

A sad woman | Source: Pexels

I couldn’t just walk past her.

“Do you need help, dear?” I asked softly as I approached her.

She looked up at me, startled. “I don’t want to be a burden,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Nonsense,” I said. “You and the baby need a warm place. Come with me.”

A smiling elderly woman | Source: Pexels

A smiling elderly woman | Source: Pexels

She hesitated for a moment, but then slowly nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered again.

We walked back to my house in silence. The baby, a little boy, stirred in her arms, and she tightened her hold on him. I led them inside, offering her a seat on the couch while I warmed some tea. The house had been cold for so long, but now it felt different. It felt alive.

A sleeping baby | Source: Pexels

A sleeping baby | Source: Pexels

“What’s your name, dear?” I asked as I handed her a steaming cup.

“Julia,” she said, her voice still soft. “And this is Adam.”

I smiled at the baby, who blinked up at me with big, curious eyes. “He’s a handsome little boy,” I said, trying to make her feel comfortable.

“Thank you,” Julia said, a small smile playing on her lips for the first time. “He’s all I have.”

A woman with a baby in her arms | Source: Pexels

A woman with a baby in her arms | Source: Pexels

In the days that followed, Julia stayed with me. She found a job at a local grocery store, and I took care of Adam while she worked. He was a joy to have around. His little giggles and the pitter-patter of his feet brought a new energy to the house, one I hadn’t felt in years. It was as if life had returned.

“Thank you for letting us stay here,” Julia said one night after she put Adam to bed. She sat across from me at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea.

Smiling woman | Source: Pexels

Smiling woman | Source: Pexels

“It’s been good for me,” I replied honestly. “The house was too quiet before you came.”

“I don’t know what we would’ve done without you,” she said, her eyes filled with gratitude.

As the weeks passed, we grew closer. Julia told me a little about her past. She mentioned her five-year-old daughter, Aurora, who was in a charity hospital.

Two women talking | Source: Pexels

Two women talking | Source: Pexels

“She’s… not well,” Julia said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But we don’t talk about it much.” There was a sadness in her eyes whenever she spoke of Aurora, but I didn’t push. I figured she’d open up when she was ready.

Then, one afternoon, everything changed.

A smiling, thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels

A smiling, thoughtful woman | Source: Pexels

Adam and I came home from my book club earlier than usual. Even though Adam usually slept through our little gatherings, today he kept crying and nothing could calm him down.

The house was quiet—too quiet. Julia was supposed to be at work, and Adam was with me, so I didn’t expect anything to be out of the ordinary. But when I walked into my bedroom with Adam in my arms, I froze.

Julia was standing by my dresser, pulling open the drawers. My jewelry, loose bills, even my mother’s old brooch were scattered on the floor.

Jewelry scattered on the floor | Source: Pexels

Jewelry scattered on the floor | Source: Pexels

“Julia?” I gasped, my heart sinking.

She spun around, her face pale. Tears welled up in her eyes instantly. “I can explain,” she stammered, dropping everything she had in her hands.

“Why?” I whispered, unable to move, unable to believe what I was seeing.

“I didn’t mean to steal,” Julia cried, her hands shaking. “I just… I didn’t know what else to do. Aurora’s surgery… I can’t afford it, and I can’t lose her. I’ve already lost so much.”

A crying woman | Source: Pexels

A crying woman | Source: Pexels

Her words hung in the air. I could hear the fear and the hopelessness, and despite my anger, I felt my heart soften. I understood her pain. The thought of her losing her child, just like I had lost mine, was unbearable. How could I turn away from her, knowing that kind of sorrow?

I knelt down beside her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “Julia, I know you’re scared. I can’t imagine the fear you must be feeling right now, but you should have told me. I could’ve helped.”

A sad elderly woman | Source: Pexels

A sad elderly woman | Source: Pexels

She looked up, her tear-streaked face full of remorse. “I was ashamed. You’ve done so much for me already, and I didn’t want to ask for more.”

“We’ll figure this out together,” I said softly. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Julia wiped her tears, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re… you’re not angry?”

“I am,” I admitted. “But I understand why you did what you did. And I forgive you.”

A woman in tears | Source: Pexels

A woman in tears | Source: Pexels

She stared at me for a moment, then threw her arms around me, sobbing into my shoulder. “Thank you… thank you so much.”

That night, I lay in bed thinking. There was no way I could let Julia face this alone. Aurora needed that surgery, and if we worked together, maybe we could make it happen. The next morning, I woke up determined. I wasn’t just going to help Julia; I was going to rally the town.

A confident, elderly woman | Source: Pexels

A confident, elderly woman | Source: Pexels

I hadn’t been involved in the community for years, but in my younger days, I had been known for organizing events. I reached for the phone and started calling people. First, my old friends, then former students and neighbors.

Word spread quickly. Everyone remembered me from when I taught at the local school, and when I explained Julia’s situation, people were eager to help.

People holding each other's hands | Source: Pexels

People holding each other’s hands | Source: Pexels

“I’ve got some extra things I can donate for an auction,” one of my former students, Maria, said. “We could hold it at the community center.”

“I’ll bake pies for the fundraiser,” said Mrs. Ellison from down the street. “People always love my apple pies.”

“We could put on a community play,” suggested David, an old friend who worked with the local theater group. “Maybe sell tickets to raise more money.”

A man talking on his phone | Source: Pexels

A man talking on his phone | Source: Pexels

On the day of the fundraiser, the community center was buzzing with activity. I watched in awe as people from all walks of life came together to help Julia and Aurora. The auction went better than expected, with people bidding generously on everything from homemade quilts to antique vases.

The bake sale was a hit, too—Mrs. Ellison’s pies sold out in less than an hour.

Pies on a table | Source: Pexels

Pies on a table | Source: Pexels

When the play began, I saw Julia sitting in the front row, her eyes filled with tears of gratitude. She glanced at me from across the room, mouthing the words, “Thank you.”

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride. This wasn’t just about raising money—it was about bringing the community together, reminding me that I still had a place in this world. We raised every penny needed for Aurora’s surgery.

A smiling elderly woman | Source: Pexels

A smiling elderly woman | Source: Pexels

The day of the surgery was nerve-wracking. I sat with Julia in the hospital, holding her hand as we waited. “She’s going to be okay,” I whispered, more for myself than for her. In that moment, I thought of Gianna, of the long nights I’d spent at her bedside. The waiting, the praying. I squeezed Julia’s hand tighter.

Hours passed, and finally, the doctor came out with a smile. “The surgery was a success,” he said. “Aurora’s going to be fine.”

A smiling doctor | Source: Pexels

A smiling doctor | Source: Pexels

Julia collapsed into my arms, sobbing with relief. “Thank you… I don’t know how to ever repay you.”

“You don’t need to repay me,” I said, brushing her hair away from her tear-streaked face. “You’ve already given me so much. You’ve brought life back into my home.”

A happy woman | Source: Pexels

A happy woman | Source: Pexels

After the surgery, Julia and the children came back to my house. The place was no longer quiet and empty. Adam’s laughter echoed through the halls, and Aurora’s sweet voice filled the air. Toys were scattered across the living room, and the once-silent rooms were now full of life and love.

One evening, as we sat together at the dinner table, I looked at Julia, Aurora, and Adam, feeling something I hadn’t felt in years—contentment.

A family dinner | Source: Pexels

A family dinner | Source: Pexels

“Stay,” I said suddenly. Julia looked at me, surprised. “Stay here. You and the kids. This house needs noise. It needs life. You’ve become like family.”

Julia’s eyes filled with tears again. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

A smiling woman signing a heart with her hands | Source: Unsplash

A smiling woman signing a heart with her hands | Source: Unsplash

And just like that, the house wasn’t empty anymore. It was full of laughter, love, and the warmth of a new family bound not by blood, but by something much stronger.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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