On Breaking Up

I can’t tell you how many times in my career someone has called me regarding divorce and the conversation goes something like this:

Potential client: I can’t take it anymore! I want to move forward with divorce.

Me: Okay, let me get some background information. Are you still living together?

PC: Yes.

Me: Okay, have you agreed to divorce?

PC: No.

Me: Okay, have you talked about divorce?

PC: No!

There was a time in my career when I thought that this was an appropriate time for a lawyer to get involved. It wasn’t unreasonable to me that this potential client would want to avoid these tough conversations. With my training and background, I thought the first step in divorce was filing a divorce petition. For someone like this, I would generally recommend the “nice” way of delivering the petition with a letter via mail or email rather than the lawyer-standard of having them served at work or something.

Inevitably this would result in the spouse getting defensive, hiring their own lawyer, and maybe racing us to court on temporary orders over the kids and house. And away they would go, barreling down the litigated path to bitter feelings and empty wallets.

This was back before I tumbled down the rabbit hole of my own divorce, which fundamentally changed how I thought about everything to be honest, but especially and relevantly, how I thought about divorce.

When I was struggling to end my own marriage 7 years ago, I knew I wasn’t going to hire a lawyer and serve my then-husband divorce papers, but that’s all I knew. At one point I walked into a therapist’s office and said, “I need help ending my marriage.” She nodded sympathetically and said, “that sounds so hard.”

Yeah, it’s fucking hard. Now, can you please tell me how to do it? Which are the words I said only to myself, of course. I left with no better idea of what to do next than I had at the beginning of the hour.

My marriage finally did end a month or two later when my ex moved out.

I was left reeling and relieved by this turn of events. It showed me that the problem had been that while I knew how to “get divorced” (a legal process), I actually had no idea whatsoever how to “break up” (an emotional one).

Reflecting on that time, I can see I was suffering from three classic blunders that are avoidable with a little awareness. 

One: I thought we had to agree to break up.

I had told my then-husband several times over a couple of months that I wanted a divorce, and each time he gave me a reason we should keep trying. We reached a point that I definitely did not want to keep trying, but I continued to agree because I was a consummate people-pleaser. I was more worried about what he wanted and what other people would think than what I knew in my heart I wanted. I stayed until he made the decision himself to leave.

What I would tell my past self now is that you don’t need a good reason to get divorced. The fact that you don’t want to be in a relationship is more than enough reason to end it. You don’t need the other person to “deserve” you leaving. In fact, this thought error leads to a whole lot of unnecessary pain. They can be a good human who deserves love and respect (as we all do), and it can be the right decision to end the relationship.

Firmly committing to a decision to transition a relationship, and communicating that decision clearly and compassionately is the ideal first step in breaking up. 

Two: I felt trapped by logistics.

We were three months into a 12-month lease when we split up, which was a dumb thing to do at that stage of our relationship, for the record. Neither of us could comfortably afford the house on our own, so I thought we’d be stuck with our roommate situation until the lease expired.

I was wrong. When my ex decided to move out, he emailed the landlords to let them know we were getting divorced and needed to break the lease. They agreed to let us out if they could re-rent the house, which they did almost immediately. I had less than two weeks to get out. 

I was absolutely dumbfounded (and misguidedly offended) by this situation, and left scrambling because I had no plan for myself. Which, to be clear, was my own failing, not something anyone did to me. I learned that you can either make your own decisions and take your own action, or be carried along on someone else’s.

This also helped to make clear to me that a relationship isn’t really over until you have your own space. Lots of people get stuck here and I often advise those who are struggling that one of the best things you can do to move forward is to move out.

Three: I was afraid.

This is really the core of the problem. I was afraid and making my decisions and taking action (or failing to take action) from a place of fear. That might be the most life-changing lesson of this experience for me. My ex and I had been together for over 18 years, more than half my life. I had spent my entire adulthood in that relationship. I didn’t know how to be a person outside of it, let alone an independently functioning adult.

The fear came from my brain constructing the absolute worst case scenario for me and projecting it infinitely into my future. But, spoiler alert, the worst case scenario did not come to pass. The transition was difficult and painful, but the other side of difficult and painful can be so, so beautiful. 

After years in this business, I can say with confidence that it’s not just me, either. I have had the privilege of walking beside dozens of people as they make the journey through the end of  relationships, often feeling as if the sky is falling and the world is ending and that nothing will ever be the same again. While it’s true that nothing is the same after such an experience, I struggle to think of a single one of them who isn’t better off in so many ways on the other side.

If I could put what I’ve learned in this regard on a fortune cookie, it would say:

Follow your heart and all will be okay.