The best, most justifiable divorce is hell. It goes downhill from there in a big hurry. Which is why I admire people who can negotiate that hell with honor, justice and equity.
The best, most justifiable divorce is hell. It goes downhill from there in a big hurry. Which is why I admire people who can negotiate that hell with honor, justice and equity.
To do that, of course, requires one thing above all else: We cannot allow our sadness to arc into vengeance. A divorce is a funeral, not a war. The work of divorce is grief. Not poisoning wells. Not scorched earth. Certainly not holding children hostage.
It is the nature of grief to be easily conscripted in service to anger and revenge. Divorcing couples labor under the weight of well-researched, well-rehearsed lists of at least bitter disappointments if not keen, fresh memories of betrayals and injustices. The lists are like a lightning rod mocking our sadness, practically begging our sadness to gather, congeal, toxify and transmute into the twisted pleasures of revenge.
It will feel so right. But then, that’s the calling card of the human ego: making absurdity and destruction feel so right.
So, first thing, if we value honor, justice and equity, we do the work of grief. We feel our sadness. Divorce “leaves a mark.” It is a loss the dimensions of which are impossible to anticipate. Especially if children are involved.
If we are willing to acknowledge and sift through our sadness, then we have more choices.
Not to mention more money.
I’m serious. Why give such a huge chunk of your estate away to attorneys if you don’t have to? If both parties value honor, justice and equity, if both parties see the folly of “cutting off their noses to spite their respective face,” then one oft-neglected option is the uncontested divorce.
Uncontested divorce requires you to come to the table and negotiate in good faith. All items, big and small. From retirement accounts to patio furniture. But, instead of paying two lawyers to quibble, bicker and threaten on your behalf, you sit down together for free and negotiate in good faith. You assemble a shared understanding of honor, justice and equity.
Then you hand the agreement to one lawyer who charges you a one-time pittance (relative to lawyers, anyway) to type your agreement in “legalese” and file it.
Variations on the uncontested divorce include hiring trained mediators who serve to guide the negotiations and, in some cases, to provide expert information.
Yet another variation (more expensive, but still nothing compared with going to court with warring lawyers) are law firms specializing in uncontested divorce. Each party is assigned counsel, but for expert legal advice and mediation. Not for trial.
When I fill the role of mediator in an uncontested divorce, I often “sell” two ideas that have great advantages.
First, child custody. On paper, file joint legal/physical custody. Define that custody agreement as alternating weeks. Seven days on, seven days off.
Then go do whatever makes sense.
My ex and I negotiate custody in one-month blocks. We alternate major holidays and three-day weekends in alternate years. We agree upon “the right of first refusal.” Meaning, if I’m the custodian and something ambushes my schedule, I don’t secure a sitter or pack my sons off to their grandmother. I call their mother. She gets “dibs.” And vice versa.
This make-it-up-as-we-go-along schedule has allowed us to be sensitive to child development. For example, my youngest was 4 when we divorced. He needed his mother in some particular ways. So, back then, the schedule was weighted toward time with his mother. However, my oldest was just 15. He needed his father in some particular ways, not to mention his magnet school was closer to my house. He lived primarily with me.
Second, the kids’ fund. We were/are two working professionals. So to hell with child support. Instead we opened a joint bank account. Each of us contribute a fixed percentage of gross income (like a flat tax). From this fund we pay all medical, all clothing, school and extracurricular fees, other items as needed and negotiated.
Then, each parent is free to manage his or her own household independently (groceries, water bill, thermostat settings, vacations, Christmas/birthday presents, etc.).
The kids’ fund pre-empts endless opportunities to feel resentful, angry and cheated. I love that about the kids’ fund.
Again, the best divorce is hell. Honor, justice and equity expedites the journey through hell. Plus, you never have to see the inside of a courtroom. Plus, it’s good for your children.
Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Las Vegas Psychiatry and the author of “Human Matters: Wise and Witty Counsel on Relationships, Parenting, Grief and Doing the Right Thing” (Stephens Press). Contact him at skalas@reviewjournal.com.