Episode 76: On Divorce

A relationship doesn’t usually explode. More often, it drifts.

One missed conversation turns into a habit, the habit turns into distance, and suddenly two people who once felt like a team are living like roommates. I’m revisiting the lessons I pulled out of my own divorce because the communication gap between men and women feels louder than ever, and I don’t want anyone repeating my mistakes just because they’re common.

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Transcript

Why Share A Divorce Story

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In light of what seems a massive breakdown of communication between men and women, I'm revisiting this writing I did a few years ago. If you follow me or have read my books, you may know that I use my life, experiences, and mistakes as a testing ground. I am happy to be your guinea pig. I expose my stumbling and recovery for your entertainment, enlightenment, and education. It's not that I enjoy oversharing, but if my story can help someone else, then it's worthy, even if it's from my divorce. Here we go. My now ex wife and I met in what seems now like a lifetime ago. In our bond we had two beautiful children who I am very proud of and enjoy guiding into their future. If they are the only reason we were together, then all the struggle, pain, and confusion following was completely worth it. But after almost twenty years together, we fell apart. Since we've broke, I've done all the introspection, retrospection, reflection, therapy, searching, and even failure one man can. I wish I could say I found answers mine or yours, but I did come away with a few lessons, and these are them. Number one a relationship is a living entity between two people. It is a conscious creation built from thought and intention. It's based on mutual goals, respect, and honesty, and these things converge and create love. A partnership is a team, like any other, supportive and working together. It needs to be nourished and paid attention to. This takes vigilance and a ton of communication. Dates are cool, but real talk, checking in with each other about the kids, the bank, the gnawing questions. This kind of freedom to share openly is the hard stuff. But it's the good stuff. Trust me. Talk. Fucking learn how to have real conversations with your partner. This is how we build empires, by consciously going to the deep, ugly places. That's what your teammate is there for to talk. And some of us learn that too late. Even if it feels confrontational, that's a new idea for me, one that I need to get used to. It doesn't mean looking for a fight. It means I love you. I want to understand. Two. The linchpin of love is trust. A relationship cannot survive without trust. With no trust there's no security and no stability. Trust doesn't mean just the big picture things. The devil lives in the details. Sometimes we let little, seemingly nothings slide and commit a small lie because we're afraid to tell the truth. We're afraid to look dumb or vulnerable, so we withhold. But it's still a lie. Then it gets repeated and becomes a monster. And if your partner can't trust you, they don't feel safe, and they can't love you. And guys, this is for you. If a woman doesn't trust you or feel safe with you, they can't orgasm either. Guys, do the work. Learn to find the clit. Read some books on women's bodies. Do your homework. Number three, even the best relationships get lazy. Avoiding anything uncomfortable is a lazy trap. I've seen too many relationships ruined by habits. They just get bigger, blown out of proportion, and will devour you both. Share your truth and allow the truth to be shared with you. This isn't always easy. But avoidance brings frustration, anger, regret, and resentment. And that's the bitch. We were a model couple. People admired what we stood for. They admired our relationship. But we settled into separate and comfortable routines. Netflix replaced real talk. Too many marriages end up as roommates because the negative habits took root. For us, teamwork went into cruise control. No one was at the helm, so we drifted. And then we drifted apart. The movement was agonizingly slow and subtle, hardly registering. What started out hot and horny turns out to a week or weeks with no intimacy. Real intimate, personal, and curious talk is gone. The trust is broken. That's a bad moon rising. Listen, learn to recognize the signs of deterioration, like the distraction of phones or TV, a building resentment or deciding that you actually hate the new fill in the blank that you swore you loved. Call these out. Write, text, DM. Do what it takes to communicate. Do what it takes to be heard. And then listen and do your best to understand. With no judgment, right? These days, when I have a coaching client that tells me that they're they've been married for a year or two years or three years or whatever, I tell them, listen, the seven year thing is real. At five years or six years or even seven years, go to therapy. Do yourselves a favor. Find a place where you can talk openly with no reprisal, no repercussions. Learn how to talk again. The seven year thing is real. And sometimes the end may already be past. But sometimes it was never supposed to end. Number four, kids happen. We wanted kids. I had always seen my daughter, even early in our relationship. But getting pregnant was difficult for us. The toll it took on us was visible and palpable, but we never really talked about it. The quote unquote responsibility seemed to be on me, which, you know, does not help my ego or production. I dieted, I changed my habits, I stayed healthy, I ate the things you're supposed to eat. I did everything to help my little team, but it all added stress, which is a real joy killer. And when my boy Wyatt was born, he wasn't born a healthy baby boy. After just a few days, we had to take him to the NICU because he was not breastfeeding. He was actually starving. And even after that, by the time he was four, he had had four major surgeries. Right now, you're thinking, oh man, I wish James Victory could be my mentor, my guru. Hell, I wish he was my coach. Well, you can make that happen. Go to your work is a gift.com. There's a questionnaire that will probably help you out, but it'll also give you access to a free call. So let's talk. Let's free you from overwhelm and creative frustration. Let's build your business and help you get paid to do what you love. Again, go to your workisagift.com. Let's talk. And then when Wyatt was about three years old, we had a rare date night. And it was on a particularly stressful day for me. I was trying to get a lot of work done, and I wasn't where I wanted to be professionally, and I was very frustrated. And we were in the car, and she said, I guess this isn't the best time to tell you that I'm pregnant. And there was a pause and we looked at each other and we both broke into deep tears. Because we knew this took us deeper into a relationship that was floundering. And then on top of that, Nova did not sleep for the first year. She slept maybe an hour at a time, which took its toll on both of us. I was taking care of Wyatt full time. She was taking care of Nova. And I still had a book to finish. So I started waking up even earlier at 3 30 in the morning in order to get some work done. Needless to say, our focus was not on each other. We needed help and we didn't know how to ask for it. Number five, and this is a biggie. The hardest words to say are I'm not happy. Neither of us ever spoke those words. But the feeling was there. It was so hard to admit what was written in all caps in front of me, and harder to let go. The sad part was that there were no visible problems, no outward traits, no arguments. It was the malaise of two people giving up. And it was what I saw around me in other relationships too. So it was normal. Very sad and normal. And as I look at it now, out of almost 20 years of marriage, there were maybe ten good ones. Then there were those five that were comfortable, and the last five when we were loitering in the same house. We should have talked then and made decisions to align ourselves, to right our ship and get back on course. Or separate and help each other find our beautiful futures separate, but happy. But complacency has a strong pull. And without words, we were both lost. I own my half of the dissolution. I was busy. I was distracted. I was running a small commercial studio in rural Texas, traveling a lot for work. Money was always an issue. My son was a baby when I started writing Feck Perfection. And working on the book, I was stressed about not being with my family. And when I was with my family, I was stressed about not writing on the book. And then halfway through writing the book, my daughter was born. And our relationship slid further. Listen, there are two partners in a relationship, two equal parts. If one is unhappy, the ship tilts. But you both have to grab a bucket. There is no blame. Responsibility lies square on both partners. Take full responsibility of yourself and what you bring to the table, and support your love in everything they bring. I read somewhere that we don't need more divorces. We need more naps. The stress of modern life is not only real, but it is a chronic plague. Get enough sleep. Hydrate. Be conscious of your body, your diet, and bad habits. A calm home is a safe home. Divorce happens. My story is not unique, but that doesn't diminish the surprise or the pain. For the first time in my life, I was alone. I wasn't ready to be alone. I didn't want to be alone. And still don't. I adore my kids. They are both smart and funny and charming, interesting people. And even the adults in my life and even the strangers in my life, they love my kids. But being a divorced dad is not the same as being a uh a dad. I have them every other week. And every time I've seen them, they've grown more. This kills me. I feel like I've had half of their lives stolen from me. Plus, being a regular full-time dad, there's a regulation of emotions that come with that comfort. Your kids can see you make mistakes more often and see that as normal. It's a full-time relationship that you can all relax into. I don't have that. I make our home as comfortable as possible and fill it with love. And I love that part. It is a joy. But I feel like maybe I have to work harder than a full-time dad because I have less time. And I will not lie to you, I still have massive amounts of anger about the divorce. But I can't let even one notion of that slip with my children. I can't pee in their pool. And that's hard to do. I understand that many men fail on this account, which sets a very low bar for their children in any future relationship they may have. It is a sin to ruin your children's future simply because you can't handle your fucking emotions. Guys, get help. Not just for you, but for everyone around you. But I'm divorced. Not dead. There are so many new challenges, new ceilings to break, new lives to build, and new love to make. Hey, that rhymed. The real loss from any divorce is not learning from it. The important things I learned were about self-love and, of course, trust. It was too easy to see my divorce as failure, and then to see myself as failure. But if I lose gratitude for all the good I have, then I lose focus and I will only see loss and self-doubt. I still have skills to work on in the school of self-love and trust. But I'm disciplined and committed and not afraid of the work. And I need to do this so I can be open and honest and vulnerable, even wrong at times, and still be trusted. I am always on the search to be a better man. So I can be there for my kiddos. And even be there better for you. Listen, here's an uh end note for this podcast. I know this is supposed to be about divorce and everything I've hopefully learned from it. But an offshoot of that has to be the times that we live. We're waking up to a very ugly realization that the world is and has been run by horrible men. Horrible pedophiles. And the trickle down from that is this deep history of rape and misogyny that we're feeling in our culture today. And besides me actively turning into a pedophile hunter, there are only a few things I can do. And I can teach my son what it means to be a good man and be an example to him of how we are to treat women, even with his mother. And I can teach my daughter how to protect herself and how to find the good in other people, and teach her how to teach boys, even her brother, how to respect her, and how to not stand for any bullshit. None. Not to make her hard, but to make her smart and loving. And I can try to inspire and even ask other men to be good, to be openly and actively good. It is surprising and disturbing to see how many men have been poorly raised, and most possibly by cowardly fathers, weak willed, ostensibly toxic macho men afraid of their own sexuality. I see too many privileged white men who've been given all the advantages of life, all advantages to success, and it still hasn't worked out for them. And they go and seek blame on everybody but themselves, including women and black and brown people, and Immigrants and trans people. This is the exact opposite of what I learned about being a man. And it's going to take all of us, all of us to set these things right. Listen, we all teach all the time by our actions and by our words. Dearest gang of mine, take care of your anger and take care of any longstanding resentment. Do the hard work. Learn to talk. And most importantly, love each other and love yourselves. I'm James Victoria, and I believe in you even when you don't.