How to end a marriage
Wednesday, July 17, 2024. This is especially for B and C.
Our culture often views divorce as a failure, especially when it involves infidelity.
Longevity is seen as the ultimate indicator of marital success, but many people who stayed "till death do us part" have been miserable.
When a relationship has run its course, I strive to help it end with dignity and integrity.
I see no contradiction in asking a couple about planning a successful breakup.
I understand this violates the “Hope Monger” cultural norm of couples therapy.
In other words, sometimes I’m a divorce therapist.
“Of all our games, love's play is the only one which threatens to unsettle the soul...”
― Marguerite Yourcenar, Memoirs of Hadrian
Take Derek and Sarah. I first met them in couples therapy 7 years ago, when they attended one of my weekend intensives for couples.
They alternated between feeling carefree, and full of promise, and feeling fickle and anxious. I remember we worked on a lot of communication issues.
Seven years, two kids, and one serious affair later, their marriage was on its last legs, and they came to me for help.
Derek had recently come clean about his secret relationship with his co-worker Emily.
He felt terribly guilty but had resolved to move on and make a life with his new love. Sarah was desperate, fighting to hold on to him. I remember her hanging on to every word, gesture, and smile from Derek, but all her love was in vain.
Just as we have marriage ceremonies to mark the beginning of a union, perhaps we also need rituals to mark the end?
I felt it was my responsibility to decrypt the message that was right in front of us:
"Sarah, he's not coming back. Your sadness makes him feel guilty, and that guilt instantly morphs into anger at you for making him feel bad that he's making you feel bad. He may not be gone, but he's not here, either."
And I told Derek:
"You keep waiting until you can leave without guilt, and that's never going to happen. It's time to set her free." He vacillated between being paralyzed and wanting to run as fast as he could, for fear that if he didn't bolt, he'd get stuck again.
I thought they needed to take the time to say a proper goodbye, so I suggested a separation ceremony.
“I was willing to yield to nostalgia, that melancholy residue of desire.”
― Marguerite Yourcenar, Memoirs of Hadrian
A marriage is the nexus of an entire life — history, memories, habits, experiences, children, friends, family, celebrations, losses, homes, trips, holidays, treasures, jokes, pictures. Why cease to cherish, and narrow our attention span out of spite?
“The memory of most men is an abandoned cemetery where lie, unsung and unhonored, the dead whom they have ceased to cherish. Any lasting grief is reproof to their neglect.”
― Marguerite Yourcenar, Memoirs of Hadrian
Rituals facilitate transitions. They also honor what was. And what remains.
Derek and Sarah once exchanged vows; now they are tearing them up.
But just because he fell in love with another woman doesn’t mean their entire past together was a fraud. Such a summation is cruel and shortsighted.
The legacy of seven years of a shared life is much larger than the legacy of the affair. They have their kids, Dustin and Gracie, to consider.
Ending a marriage with children goes beyond the mere signing of divorce papers. Divorce is not the end of such a family; it’s a reorganization.
When a couple arrives at the finishing line, drained after two years of back and forth — his confusion, her false hopes, his guilt about leaving, her holding on — it’s easy to undervalue what they’re leaving behind.
The ceremony's purpose was to not let Derek’s affair eclipse all the positive aspects of their otherwise good and fruitful marriage.
Sometimes, departing spouses are reluctant to shift their focus to the good things in their relationship because they are afraid it will take the wind out of their sails.
It’s as if they feel the need to trash what they had in order to justify leaving.
What they don’t realize is that by doing so, they simultaneously degrade and devalue their own past and all the people they shared it with — leaving a trail of estranged angry children, parents, friends, and exes.
That sucks. There has to be a better way.
We need a concept of a terminated marriage that doesn’t damn it — one that helps to create emotional coherence and narrative continuity.
It bears repeating. Ending a marriage with children goes beyond the mere signing of divorce papers. And divorce is not the end of a family; it’s a reorganization.
This kind of ritual has caught the public imagination in recent years, dubbed “conscious uncoupling” by author Katherine Woodward Thomas.
I invite many couples to write goodbye letters to each other: letters that capture what they’ll miss, what they cherish, what they take responsibility for, and what they wish for each other. This allows them to honor the riches of their relationship, to mourn the pain of its loss, and to mark its legacy. Even if it is done with a cooled heart, it can nonetheless provide solace.
When Sarah finished reading her letter, it was a powerful, eloquent moment.
When Derek and Sarah came in for the following session, they had their letters on their iPhones.
One click and the reading began. Entitled “What I’ll Miss,” Sarah’s letter was a ten-page list, divided into categories, wistfully evoking the multilayered tapestry of their history. Their personal sayings — “Hey, lovebug” . . . “Come here, my dear” . . . Their early days — love notes, mixtapes, dancing in the kitchen, dog walks, coffee shop dates. The food they loved. Their friends. The places that held meaning for them, from the beach to the mountains to their favorite local restaurant. Their “secret spots.” Their “firsts” . . .
No one else will ever share the particular meanings these everyday things hold for them. She listed the connections she’d miss: “feeling protected, safe, beautiful, loved.” Her final category was simply “You”: “Your scent. Your smile. Your enthusiasm. Your ideas. Your hugs. Your big strong hands. Your infectious laugh. Your dreams. You, next to me.”
When she finished reading, we were all in tears and there was no need to trample the tenderness by being too paragraphy. Sometimes words need to be tucked away.
But it is important for the scribe to hear her own words read back to her, so I asked Derek to do so. Then he read his own pages.
Hers was a love letter; his, a diplomatic farewell, thanking her profusely for the life they had shared, expressing regret for having fallen short, and assuring her that he would always treasure their bond.
He was kind and caring, but his tone was purely formal and a bit stiff. His opening and closing sentences say as much: “Thank you for being an amazing person and a truly wonderful force in my life over the past seven years” . . . “I want you to know that despite its outcome, I see the good in our marriage, and will always cherish our children and hold them deep within my heart.”
This cathartic closure proved to be the appropriate ritual for this couple. But sadly, many departing partners spew out a long list of curses rather than a list of sweet memories.
Navigating co-parenting can be one of the most challenging aspects of a divorce, but Derek and Sarah managed to approach it with remarkable grace and cooperation.
They both agreed early on that their children's well-being would remain their top priority.
Despite the emotional turmoil of their separation, they committed to maintaining a united front for their kids, demonstrating that even though they were no longer together, they could still function as a cohesive parenting team.
One of their first steps was to establish a clear and consistent schedule. This wasn't just about logistics; it was about providing stability for their children during a time of significant change. They worked together to create a calendar that outlined who would have the kids on which days, including holidays and vacations. This way, the children always knew where they would be and when, reducing uncertainty and stress.
Communication was another crucial factor in their successful co-parenting arrangement. Derek and Sarah decided to use a shared online calendar and messaging app specifically for co-parenting. This allowed them to keep track of appointments, school events, and extracurricular activities without the need for frequent, potentially tense, direct conversations. It also provided a written record of their agreements, minimizing misunderstandings and disputes.
I also helped them handle co-parenting. A few sessions helped them to establish boundaries, learn effective communication techniques, and understand the importance of shielding their children from any residual conflict or resentment between them.
This professional support reinforced their commitment to keeping their interactions as positive and constructive as possible. They never forgot that their kid’s nervous systems were hostage to their efforts.
Furthermore, Derek and Sarah made a conscious effort to attend significant events together. From school plays to schoolyard games, they both showed up, often standing or sitting together to reassure their children that they were still a family in many ways. This visible cooperation provided their children with a sense of security and continuity. They built a stronger culture of ritual, celebration, and predictability as they built memories with Gracie, 9, and Dustin, 12.
Lastly, they agreed on core parenting values and rules to ensure consistency across both households. They discussed and aligned on matters such as bedtime routines, screen time, and homework expectations. By maintaining similar structures and rules in both homes, they helped their children adjust to the new living arrangements more smoothly.
In essence, Derek and Sarah’s approach to co-parenting was built on a foundation of mutual respect and a shared love for their children.
They recognized that while their marriage had ended, their roles as parents were only in the very early years of a lifelong commitment.
By prioritizing their children’s needs and maintaining open, respectful communication, they managed to co-parent effectively, turning a potentially contentious situation into a cooperative and supportive environment for their kids. In doing so they intentionally shaped the future for their family legacy.
A few months later, when I followed up with Sarah, she emphasized how the ritual of uncoupling helped her see the writing on the wall.
“Daniel, at first I thought it was a little woo-woo, but I was also proud to be doing it and even shared it with some friends.
Once I dealt with how upset I was, I saw that by focusing on our kids we were doing something right, despite all the wrong that had come before.
I often wondered, How is he going to leave? Is he just one day going to wake up, say, ‘Okay, bye,’ and walk out the door?
The separation ceremony put an end to my ruminations. I desperately needed a way to help me accept that he loved another woman and it was really over.”
Some affairs are inconsequential dalliances; others are the beginnings of a new life.
“the lover who leaves reason in control does not follow his god to the end.”
― Marguerite Yourcenar, Memoirs of Hadrian
Derek’s was the latter, and no amount of waiting on Sarah’s part would have changed that.
The tone of his letter made that all too clear to her. “It wasn’t a ‘what I’ll miss’ letter,” she says. “It was a ‘we are over’ letter. He said some nice things, but this was definitely a man no longer in love. It struck me right then and there that while I was still suffering, still very much in love, he was gone. It hurt, more than you know, but it opened my eyes.”
Next, I caught up with Derek, who remembered the ceremony as “emotional and effective.” Guilt was turned into gratitude, and denial was replaced by memory.
“I did not love less; indeed I loved more. But the weight of love, like that of an arm thrown tenderly across a chest, becomes little by little too heavy to bear.”
― Marguerite Yourcenar, Memoirs of Hadrian
Gradually, he was able to simultaneously hold his attachment to Sarah and their children and the calling of a new life with Emily. “Until that moment, it hadn’t felt real. The symbolism gave it a seal of finality.”
This cathartic closure proved to be the appropriate ritual for this couple.
But sadly, many pairs spew out a long list of curses rather than invoking sweet memories.
Wherever I can, I try to help partners create empowering narratives rather than victimizing.
It doesn’t always involve forgiveness; it must make room for anger, but hopefully, it is an anger that mobilizes a legacy rather than keeping them trapped in bitterness.
We need to show our kids how to go on with life — to hope again, love again, and trust again.
Be Well, Stay Kind, and Godspeed.
