Disclaimer: All facts gleaned from the filings stated hereafter are only as truthful as the petitioner. The tone of this article expresses a style of writing historically employed by America’s greatest writers and, as such, is for opinion purposes only. No intentional harm is due. Do not read if the topic of divorce (even your own) causes you emotional distress. Continue at your own risk.
In the tangled underbelly of Jackson County, Missouri, a divorce filing landed with the thud of inevitability. On February 12, 2025—just two days before Valentine’s Day—Amanda L. West pulled the trigger on her six-year marriage to Shane M. West, dragging it into the Family Court Division with a petition that reeked of finality. Her attorney, Lauri J. Laughland, operating solo out of Grandview, laid it out plain: married August 18, 2018, in Altamonte, Missouri, they’d been apart since August 6, 2023, the marriage a hollow shell, irretrievably broken.
Amanda, self-employed from her Belton home, held the line for their two kids, staking her claim for sole legal and physical custody after keeping them close in Cass County for six months. Shane’s gig? Unknown—another blank in this unraveling script. No military ties, no pregnancy, just a pile of assets and debts from their shared years, waiting for the court to carve up. Amanda wanted her slice, her separate stuff untouched, and a jab at Shane to cover her legal tab if he dragged his feet. The kids’ future hung in the balance, their address hers to define.
This wasn’t a Valentine’s love note—it was a cold, hard reckoning, a woman staring down a busted union and betting on the courts to deliver justice before the roses wilted.
Please contact VowBreakers for access to documents related to the case.
