I have practiced family law for more than fifteen years, and I spend a lot of time thinking about marriage, families, and divorce. I remember reading a blog post by another family law attorney in Seattle. It was titled something like A Divorce Attorney Who Doesn't Believe in Divorce. She wrote about the importance of working on a marriage, developing communication skills, and recognizing that every relationship goes through difficult seasons. At the time, I remember thinking she was right.
I believe marriage is worth investing in. I believe most relationships require intentional effort, honest communication, and a willingness to grow together. I believe in the power of a good marriage counselor. I have never viewed divorce as the first solution to a difficult marriage.
However, I have also learned, both professionally and personally, that some relationships are not the right fit. Sometimes two people are unable to meet one another's needs. Sometimes years of trying can leave you exhausted. Sometimes the healthiest decision is not to continue fighting for the marriage, but to acknowledge that it has run its course and begin building something healthier.
I often hear from clients that they have been unhappy for a long time. They usually don't describe one defining moment that ended the marriage. Instead, they describe years of wondering whether things would improve, years of hoping the next conversation would be different, years of convincing themselves that things might finally change. That was my experience too.
By the time my marriage ended, I had known for a long time that it was not working. We had two young daughters, and like so many parents, doing right by my kids was forefront in my mind. I asked myself the same questions my clients ask every day. Was I making the right decision? Would my children be okay? Would they be better off growing up in one home, even if that home was no longer healthy?
I don't think those questions have easy answers, and I don't think there is one right answer for every family. Every marriage is different, and every family has its own path. But I do believe there comes a point when we have to be honest with ourselves about whether we are staying because it is really what is best for our family, or whether we are staying because we are afraid of what comes next.
For me, that moment came unexpectedly. One of my closest friends passed away suddenly at just forty-two years old, leaving behind two young children. Sitting at his funeral, I remember looking around the room and realizing that this is what remains when our lives are over. The people we loved. The way we treated them. The connections we formed are central to the life we chose to live. It wasn't that I walked out of that funeral and decided to get divorced. My marriage had been struggling for years. I walked out of the funeral knowing that I didn’t want to look back on a life that had not met my needs. I was more afraid of living a life without meaningful connection, without real love, than I was of change.
Today, my life looks very different. I have remarried and had two more children. Like every family, ours is messy and busy, but it is built on mutual respect, kindness, and genuine partnership. I intentionally made the life I wanted, and my two older girls adore their little siblings.
I worried that my daughters needed me under the same roof every day in order to thrive. What I have learned instead is that children need parents who are emotionally healthy. They need stability, consistency, and love. They need to see what healthy relationships look like, even if those relationships exist in two different homes instead of one.
That doesn't mean divorce is easy. It is one of the most difficult transitions many families will ever experience. Nor does it mean that every unhappy marriage should end. Some marriages can heal. Some become stronger after people learn healthier ways to communicate and reconnect. I genuinely hope they do.
But there are also marriages that cannot become healthy. There are marriages where both people have tried for years and reached the conclusion that they have to move on to grow. There are also people reading this who were not the ones considering divorce at all. Perhaps your spouse made that decision for you. If that is where you find yourself today, you are carrying a different kind of grief, but many of the same fears. You are still wondering what your children will remember, whether life will ever feel normal again, and how to begin imagining a future you never planned for.
If there is one thing I hope clients take away from my own experience, it is this: you do not have to have every answer today. Whether you are trying to save your marriage, deciding whether to leave, or trying to move forward after someone else made that decision, there is value in slowing down, gathering good information, and making thoughtful choices rather than reactive ones. You also don’t have to make those decisions alone.
Looking back, I don't regret working on my marriage. I don't regret taking the decision seriously. I don't regret asking difficult questions or hoping things could improve. What I do know is that every family deserves healthy relationships. Sometimes that means doing the hard work to save a marriage. Sometimes it means having the courage to let one go.
As an attorney, my job is not to tell you which path is right. My job is to help you understand your options so you can make informed decisions that are right for your family, your values, and the future you want to create.
