Can Divorced People Be the Best Marriage Experts?

Could the Answer Be Yes?

Once, newly divorced, I dated a man named Jon who had been divorced four times. I was rather fascinated by this (and kind of repulsed) and eventually ended it, saying, “I am so sorry, but I just can’t picture myself ever telling anyone that I’m your 5th wife.”

(He’s now on his 6th. Who was also the 3rd.)

My favorite professor I learned the most from in grad school studying to be a therapist was a twice-divorced man. He taught me a lot about what works, and what doesn’t, in marriage counseling and marriage.

In grad school, I was introduced to the concept of “the wounded healer.” Why are just as many marriage therapists divorced, as the rest of us? Is that a liability? Or could it be an asset?

What if those who have failed at a long relationship have something to offer that is very special?

A few months ago when I posted on FB about what makes my second marriage successful and valuable, a man said, “Don’t even talk to me about a 5-year relationship. Get back to me when you’ve been married 20 years.”

What if your previous 20-year marriage was an amazing learning experience, even if it didn’t end when we were 80 and died?

I’ve noticed that the hundreds of medical professionals and health/wellness experts I’ve had on my show (Vibe on iTunes, banned on Spotify for my medical freedom views)--are “wounded healers” who learned more from their own journey recovering lost health, than graduate school could ever teach them.

I often ask them about this, and every single one has acknowledged that their own health crash, and research and practice in recovering their health, was more valuable than all of their clinical practice combined.

John Gottman is arguably the greatest marriage therapist alive. A master’s degree in math from MIT, plus his PhD in clinical psychology helped in becoming not just a great psychologist, but also a great researcher.

He created a “Love Lab,” where he studied 50 couples for an entire weekend, in a furnished apartment he leased. Hooking them up to monitors and recording their conversations and measuring their heart rate and other biomarkers, as they discussed stressors and conflicts. His team behind a one-way mirror.

His book, The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work, is the most important marriage and relationship book I’ve ever read, of many.

And he was divorced twice, before getting it right with psychologist Julie Gottman. Gottman is also 80 years old–so, would we be wise to extend mercy and a stay of judgment, to someone who has lived more decades than we have?

I think if every married couple read his book, and applied what they learned to their marriage, we’d cut the divorce rate in half.

(Some marriages probably SHOULD end in divorce. After all, signing that piece of paper doesn’t mean we should be sentenced to a lifetime of abuse or alcoholism or porn addiction. Of the roughly half of us who stay married for life, half of them report being unhappy.)

When you’ve gotten it wrong once, you really know it when you get it right. My current husband is the love of my life, and while our relationship probably looks strange to outsiders, and he wouldn’t meet the criteria, if I’d ever made a list of “what my future husband will look like”--

–we’re different races, he’s 13 years younger but looks 10 years younger than that, I’d never in my life dated someone under 6’ tall. And I work, while he takes care of our homes and physical needs and our joint goal of growing and making our own food.

I asked him to stop working, so that I could work MORE. He agreed and does lots of other work that is highly valuable to me and to us.

But even though our marriage looks unconventional:

*We argue little, and resolve it fairly and with love when we do. (Research shows even happy, stable marriages have conflict. How it’s resolved is the difference.)

*We have entirely similar values since the insanity of 2020.

*He’s open to my influence, and has embraced gardening, growing microgreens, drinking green smoothies, and detoxing twice a year.

*Have virtually identical political and moral values.

And, I had a big hand in screwing up my first marriage. I married young and was in no way prepared for marriage, coming out of an abusive home and having a lot of personal work to do.

By the time I did it a second time (something I honestly never thought I’d do), I knew how to “not sweat the small stuff,” forgive easily, and recognize and focus on the good in the man and the relationship.

Still, divorce is terrible, and if I’d understood what the fallout would be for my children, I’d have stayed married.

When someone wants to talk to me about their desire to get divorced, I say, “You really don’t want to talk to me about divorce unless you want the unvarnished truth, and I have nothing good to say about divorce.”

Two sets of people approached me when my divorce became public knowledge in our community, where we knew many people, being members of Utah’s dominant religion, and my being a charter-school founder, to try to talk me out of it.

I listened to what they had to say. It might have made a difference, had they talked to me earlier, but by then my children’s father was on to his next ex-wife.

Two divorced ladies double-teamed me at church one day. Sat on either side of me after Sunday School, and begged me to repair my marriage if there was even a shred of hope in it.

They said, “You don’t know what you’re doing to your kids, and you’ll find out.” They weren’t wrong. The result of my divorce is that I was massively happier, especially over time, but my four innocent children went through hell. And as you know, you’re only as happy as your most unhappy child.

A couple at my children’s charter school took me aside. They were in a happy, stable second marriage. And they said, “Even though we love each other very much, if we knew then what we know now, neither of us would have gotten divorced from our first spouses.”

About 7 years ago, a woman who follows me begged and begged me to get on the phone because she wanted to divorce the father of her 6 children. She had a thing for a guy who lived 20 minutes away in her rural community, and she really wanted me to know that she’d not been intimate with him.

I gave her that disclaimer above. (“Don’t ask me to talk to you about divorce unless you want the truth.”)

I went through 9 years of post-divorce litigation and mediations; I’ve been to court and helped a number of divorcing friends with their “pro se” (self-represented) court appearances; and I’ve counseled broken families, in addition to my own divorce experience.

Long ago, I considered writing a book about divorce, but I didn’t, because my sense is that people read the divorce books only AFTER they get a divorce, when they’re trying to put the broken pieces back together, and I wish I could write a book people read BEFORE they do it.

My divorce lawyer DID actually write a book to that audience, and gave me a copy–what I recall of it is that 92% of second marriages, when both parties have underage children, fail.

So I told this woman who wanted to leave her husband, “Your children and grandchildren, till their dying day, will tell the story of their mom leaving their dad to run off with another guy. It won’t matter to them that you didn’t have sex with him; in fact, they won’t believe you.”

“He’ll probably get married and have more babies, and kids prefer a stable nuclear home, so they’ll prefer being with him. You may lose some of them altogether. You don’t know this man well, and you’re probably projecting onto him what you want him to be and wish he was–because you’re so unhappy in your current marriage.” And lots more.

She came to my town recently, asking if she could meet me for dinner. She related that every single thing I’d told her would happen did happen–and more. Worse.

By her own admission, her kids’ new stepmom is a lovely person, and the kids consider her their mom. The marriage to the second guy is high-conflict and not looking like it’ll make it, either.

She said ruefully, “I would give anything to go back in time and un-make that decision.”

Marriage is hard. It involves work. No one is perfect, and whatever marriage you’re in, you’re having to deal with the “balance sheet” that is a human being–assets, and liabilities!

I’m not the first person you’ve heard this from, of course. But I hope that I’m writing this for someone it serves, maybe someone you share it to, who is unhappily married and considering divorce.

Gottman’s book is worth 30 sessions in therapy with a great therapist. If both parties in a marriage read it and discuss.

(And therapists are in high demand these days; the good ones have closed practices or 6-month waitlists, and sometimes marriages can’t wait. I met an MD recently who, when he learned of my background, begged me to come back to psychotherapy. He said, “I cannot find anyone decent taking new patients, and I don’t have anyone to refer my patients to, for help with their problems and marriages.”)

Other fantastic reads for anyone struggling in their relationship:

Hold Me Tight, by Sue Johnson PhD (published in 2020)
You Just Don’t Understand, by Deborah Tannen (about the research on how men and women are wired and conditioned differently, when it comes to communication, which I just re-read, and my husband found it revelatory)

I hope there’s mercy and a stay of judgment from others, for the divorced. My grandpa was married 5 times, and nailed it the 5th time.

His 5th wife was the only grandma I ever knew, as he married her the year I was born. My own grandmother, his first wife and the mother of his children, killed herself at age 33. Her mother had done the same thing.

My grandpa and his 5th wife, both suffering with severe trauma, quit alcoholism and chain smoking together, in their 50’s, and both lived to their 90’s.

They had a peaceful, positive relationship when alcohol and cigarettes were kicked to the curb.

Many people who’ve been married to their high school sweetheart have a loving, fair, peaceful and even passionate relationship, for 40 years. I always ask questions of these couples, who’ve invariably navigated many challenges, but stayed the course.

But people in their second or third marriages are also interesting, and I ask them questions, too. One thing they all seem to have in common is a willingness to accept the quirks of their spouse.

And we are all, in our own way, pretty weird. And you know, the second time, that criticism of your partner’s quirks doesn’t go well.

My marriage works because if we see something heading toward John Gottman’s “four horsemen of the apocalypse”--criticism, contempt, defensiveness, and stonewalling–relationship-killers, all of them, especially contempt…

…we call it out, recognize it, nip it in the bud, and eliminate it. Strangely, both of us failing at a previous marriage was where we got a lot of our commitment, recognition of negative patterns, and determination not to fail again.

In fact, Amy Pohler said in her autobiography, about her marriage to actor Will Arnett, “I don’t consider a 10-year marriage a failure.” That’s an interesting way to think of it. Obviously I’m not condoning divorce, but what if marriage can be seen like other ventures that may not last 60 years? Learning experiences.

I used to tell my MComm 320 students at BYU: “There are two kinds of businesses. The ones that make money, and the ones you learn from, and they’re both good.” Obviously I’d prefer the former, but I’ve had both, and both types have been valuable in my life experience.

And I consider marriage the same. There’s the ones that last till the day you die, and the ones you learn from. But to any of my children who might read this, I’m sorry I didn’t get it right the first time.

Thank you for sharing this piece to anyone you know who is struggling in marriage or life. Subscribe and get each of my new bi-weekly posts emailed to your Inbox.

We very much appreciate your support of this blog, at $10/mo or a discounted annual rate, as it helps me pay my amazing team (that’s how I get so much done, many ask me that–I write the content, but I have an amazing, loyal, supportive team, many of whom have been with me 8-10 years).