Adult Children of Divorce are Getting Ripped Off

People are very concerned about children of divorce. Dozens of books outline the millions of things that can go wrong, and the very special attention kids will need during such a big change. Kids go to therapy, color their feelings, get calmed down by horses and most importantly, often get two Christmases. People make divorce out to be a bad and devastating thing, but there was only one child of divorce in my fourth grade class and she and her mom lived in a condo with a pool. My dumb married parents didn’t have a pool, so I don’t know, divorce sounded pretty cool to me. Teachers were also nicer to her, gave her a bunch of extra leeway, and she managed to con her dad into sending her to a sleepaway camp even though he said no the three previous summers. Michelle’s life was a lot better than mine because her parents were trying to buy her love, as the old divorce stereotype goes. But do adult children of divorcing parents get the same special treatment?

Heck no, it turns out. The Times recently ran an article about children affected by later in life divorce. There was a lot of talk about hurt feelings and other psychological impacts but not one mention of elaborate gifts. So these poor adult kids get their idea of marriage and love obliterated, without the specialized support young children are often afforded, plus no presents. What a rip off.

All those seven-year-olds get special mother/son dates and TWO bikes, but what of Gerald, the 31-year-old mild mannered systems analyst that just found out his perfectly boring parents aren’t celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary next month, but rather, they’re throwing in the towel and splitting up. Gerald played by the rules his whole life. He never snuck out while grounded or stole alcohol from the liquor cabinet, topping the bottles off with water hoping no one would notice. He never got high behind the bleachers or asked for anything more than lunch money from his parents. He got his degree from an ok school and got an ok job and just last year bought an ok house with money he saved up himself in an ok high yield account. Now his life is getting turned upside down but no one seems to care because he’s not an impressionable middle schooler anymore.

Who will take pity on poor Gerald? Will his mom take him out for soft serve after his little league game? No. Will ol’ Ger-bear have to teach his 59-year-old dad how to use Tinder? Oh yes. Will he learn his dad is “into butts?” You bet he will. Don’t you think he deserves an all expenses paid ski weekend for that? I sure think he does. It’s time to grab victimhood by the horns, Gerald, and here’s how.

First off, if my old pal Michelle can get away with doing no homework for three months, Gerald deserves a little break as well. In lieu of teacher pity, get boss pity. I think it’s perfectly reasonable to take four to six hour-long breaks during the day to walk around the block or chill out in his car for “mental health reasons.” I also think it’s fair that Claire take on a couple of Gerald’s projects as Claire’s parents are still together and it’s really time for her to step up to the plate and earn that promotion, you know? I also think it’s fair that people stop judging Gerald for how much free pizza he eats on Pizza Tuesdays because no one mentioned a slice limit in the recurring calendar invite, and also Gerald is going through a pretty rough time so everyone can piss off.

Secondly, just because Gerald’s parents don’t have to fight over his custody doesn’t mean they shouldn’t fight for his love. Gerald won’t have the luxury of two Christmases because he’s a “grown up” and grown ups don’t need a large pile of gifts to know they’re loved and blah blah blah. That’s a load of crap. He does need tangible proof this divorce isn’t his fault just like an eight-year-old would. But just like expensive cheddar, Gerald’s tastes have matured way beyond those of an eight-year-old. Summer camp isn’t going to cut it. An all expenses paid eleven day Mediterranean cruise will though. And horseback riding lessons are for babies. Jetskis are for adults. So, mom and pop should buy him a jetski. No wait, TWO jetskis. One for his regular home and one for his lake house; the lake house his parents should also buy him.

Some divorcées really knock it out of the park for their kids’ birthdays in an attempt to compete with, and then upstage the other parent. This applies to Gerald as well. Celebrating 32 might not seem like a big enough milestone to garner bar mitzvah or quinceanera level parties, but why not? And why even limit it to birthdays? Maybe it’s time for Gerald’s dad to cough up the dough for Drake to play Gerald’s laid back, backyard Memorial Day barbecue.

While Gerald’s missing out on the double Christmases, he will be punished with two Thanksgivings. He’ll have to split his time between two marathon dinners where he will get grilled two times by a bevy of aunts and cousins as to why he hasn’t settled down yet. His thirteen-year-old cousin Chloe will ask him yet again if he is gay and, yet again mention her piano teacher is “a catch.” He will repeat this misery again on Easter. Twice. Lucky for Gerald, the final act in making this divorce work for him is blaming all of his problems on this divorce. All. Of. Them.

Aunt Louise on him again about being single? Divorce’s fault! Late for work? Divorce’s fault! Hasn’t gone to the gym in six years? Divorce’s fault! Ice cream for dinner again? Divorce’s fault! Mounting credit card debt? Divorce’s fault! Commitment issues? Divorce’s fault! Are you questioning whether any of this can really apply since his parents only got divorced six weeks ago? Stop questioning because Gerald will answer, “you know, there was tension there for years.” And you can’t question him! Because he’s a little broken bird of an adult man who now owns two jet skis he didn’t have to pay for. It’s Gerald’s time to shine, excuse-wise. Literally everything that is wrong or even sort of wrong in his life is because he now comes from a broken home. Soar like the excuse ridden eagle you were always meant to be, Gerald!

Respectfully,

James J. Sexton

What is the Number One Predictor of a Breakup?

I’m asked this question a lot. As a divorce attorney, I suppose this shouldn’t come as a surprise, but because it comes up so often, I thought it’s something worth writing about as well.

As someone who has had a “ringside seat” to the demise of several thousand previously happy relationships, I can tell you the #1 predictor of a breakup is the rate at which either or both parties stop trying to impress the other.

When people start dating they typically offer their partner a “best self” version of themselves. Comedian Nikki Glazer called this the equivalent of having “spanx for your personality”. It’s still you but it’s a very flattering and compressed version of you and the real stuff is dying to get out.

You also, at that phase of a relationship (sometimes weeks, sometimes months, often from dating through just after the honeymoon) spend a lot of time and energy trying to make your partner have warm feelings about you: doing small gestures that will make him or her feel good about you and feel loved and attended to.

After some time passes and your partner becomes a “given” in your life (no longer a shiny new toy that you aren’t sure you’ll be allowed to keep and, thus, want to play with as long as possible) your energies become, understandably, directed at the other (and often more stressful and maintenance requiring) aspects of your life (work, family, friends).

I was speaking with a female client once, during a long wait in Family Court before a divorce was finalized. I asked her when she knew her marriage was officially over and she told me, in an uncharacteristically nostalgic and melancholy tone, that it was NOT when she caught him texting with his mistress, and NOT when she found the bank records that showed he was gambling his entire bonus rather than bringing it home. It was months before all that when she noticed, for the first time, that he stopped buying her granola.

“There was this particular brand of granola that I like and when we were first dating and married he would always notice when I was running low on it and get me a new bag of it when he would go to Whole Foods for lunch (he worked in the Time Warner Center above the Whole Foods). I never mentioned it to him – I don’t know that I really noticed all that much that he did it – but it was a nice feeling – that he noticed I was low on my favorite granola, and that he knew it was my favorite, and that he was thinking of me while he was in Whole Foods and brought it home for me and didn’t even think to point it out and try to “get credit” for all of that. It was just something he did because he was thinking of me and knew this silly small unique thing gave me pleasure. One day I noticed I was out of that granola and he hadn’t bought it for me. I was a little surprised but I didn’t think much of it. The next time I ran out I left the bag on the counter as a subtle hint – but he never bought it for me again. I think there was a part of me that knew, at that moment, I was no longer on his radar and things were heading south.”

I asked her if there was anything like that on her end of the relationship and she replied flatly:

“Blow jobs.”

I almost spit out my coffee.

“I know it sounds silly and it might be inappropriate to say – but I used to give him blow jobs a few times per week. It took all of five minutes in the morning and for the rest of the day he was all giddy and happy. I got a kick out of how much he enjoyed it. But after some time married I started sleeping in a bit more and I just didn’t think to take that five minutes to do it. Plus I had this feeling of, I don’t know, resentment – like I don’t OWE him a blow job and I’ve got 50 things to do today – he can wait until I get home tonight and we can have sex so both of us enjoy it. But I guess that was his granola in some ways. I don’t know.”

So there it is. Granola and blow jobs.

But really it’s just about the little things we do to remind the other person that we take pleasure in their pleasure. The little reminders that we are paying attention and trying to find ways to make them smile.

Relationships are all about connection in my view. By the time someone reaches my office the connection is destroyed but most of the time it broke a long time before.

So in my view the #1 predictor of a break up would be the rate at which the partners in a relationship stop demonstrating the small daily gestures that make you feel special and loved and connected in that relationship. Or, to put it another way, the frequency with which each partner tries to demonstrate connection to the other partner. Whether it’s something as predictable as sex or flowers or something smaller and more subtle (like noticing which granola she’s running low on) I think if you observe a shift in that particular kind of energy/dynamic it’s a sign something is off. Ignore it at your own risk.

Respectfully,

James J. Sexton

Let's All Just Be Nicer.

There are a million reasons relationships don’t work out, but most marriages fall into one of two fundamental categories:

1. either both people realize the marriage is over and want out, or
2. one person wants out while the other wants to keep working on the relationship.

No one’s jonesing to be part of either of these groups, but one could argue scenario B is a rougher road. Someone is really going to get their heart stomped on in group B. If you are the leaver, you have most likely realized for the good of your well being and sanity you must get out of your relationship. And look at you! Way to make a decision instead of cheating on your husband for a decade and lying to everyone you know.

If you’re the one left behind, I am so sorry, can I buy you a pizza? I swear you are prettier and more interesting than Sheila in accounting and I don’t know why Dan left you for her, but you are better without him, and again, can I get you a pizza? I feel like if you had some pizza, this would be less awkward because life’s a bummer and people are sometimes the worst, and it’d be great if everyone tried a little harder to be nicer.

If you didn’t know, (why would you know?) March 3rd was “I Want You To Be Happy Day.” I don’t know why there’s an international taco day, or a national taco day, or a hug your pets day, or a hug your pets on international taco day which happens to also be national taco day. I don’t know who comes up with these things, but if it’s a paid job, someone let me know where I can send my resume because I would be all over that nonsense. “I Want You To Be Happy Day” is meant to be a day of giving, helping, and generally being unselfish — all good things to be, for more than just one day out of the year.

It’s hard to be the bigger person, especially when you have an arsenal of sick, sick burns inside of you. Being the bigger person takes humility and self control, both of which don’t seem to be abundant in today’s world. It’s hard to be humble when there’s so much bragging to do on Facebook, am I right? It’s hard to have self control when a biting tweet going viral is just a little brainstorm away. So, I reject “I Want You To Be Happy Day” because one day isn’t enough to address the serious problem of the pandemic levels of jerkiness committed by us and against us in everyday life. I reject the day and call upon you to embrace the year, decade or century of being nicer.

A divorce is a great opportunity to really challenge yourself to be better. The bliss of embarrassing someone with a perfect cutting remark is fleeting. The general good vibe you get from being kind lasts, and can also can build into a long term sense of smugness no one can ever question. Because what can they do? Criticize you for being too civil to Dan and his new wife Sheila? Oh, sorry Brandon, I’m just a pretty ok person who knows everyone is better off now and I can accept and embrace that, not like when you and Erica broke up. You were just so rude to her, I mean I get it, but that’s just not me, man. Dan’s happiness is all our happiness, you know, Brandon? Ah, feel that? Feel the warm rays of smugness upon your body? Embrace it. That’s what happens when you want others to be happy.

How can you implement this in your daily life? Here are some ideas.

Don’t Act Like A Republican Presidential Candidate.
This one’s pretty simple. Don’t regress into a petty, childish seventh grader. Don’t allude to to an ex-spouse’s small penis size, imply they’ve pissed themselves, point out a poor fake tan color choice, draw attention to an excessive sweating problem, call them a phony/fraud/liar, or claim they have low energy. If you do any of the above, you will not only look like a moron, you will also feel like garbage. And you don’t want either of those things, because those things are the job of the next leader of the free world.

Who are you making happy? Your parents. They no longer have to scold you for “raising you better than that.”

Solve An Important Mystery.
First, quit your job and take an unpaid internship in the film industry. Over the course of sixteen months, work your way into PA jobs on several lower budget movies. Do really good work and impress a few people on set. Make friends with them so they call you up to work on bigger projects. Go to film school at night and during your days off. Put together an impressive reel and land an agent through your PA buddies’ contacts. Do a few short films that do well at several international festivals. Have a few mid-level people at big studios take notice. Land a meeting with one of those people. Dazzle them. Get hired for a few smaller features. Work more, work harder. Land a huge summer blockbuster starring Reese Witherspoon. On day one, take Reese aside and ask her what the hell movie she was talking about when she said “Oh, that’s where we’re at? You’re fighting to be the girlfriend in a dumb comedy? For what?’ And by the way, two Oscar winners did it. I was like, I’ve got to do something.” Was it No Strings Attached? It was No Strings Attached, right? Kate Aurthur from Buzzfeed thinks it’s No Strings Attached. Ask Reese, find out the answer, quit the movie and the business and walk off set. Call your ex and tell them, “Yep, No Strings Attached, we were right!” Then tweet it and @ me, and Kate Aurthur and the whole world because seriously Reese, what was it?No Strings Attached right?

Who are you making happy? All of us.

Stop Airing Your Dirty Laundry, Unless It’s Really Interesting.
There’s an expiration date for complaining about a dissolved relationship. It is six months. If you are still complaining about a long gone relationship past the six month mark, all of your friends are going to get annoyed and bored. We all love a little gossip. Some of us love a lot of gossip. When it’s stale gossip that you’ve heard nineteen times since last summer, no one likes it. So either find something juicier you forgot to mention, or get caught up on Vanderpump Rules so we can all enjoy the conversation.

Who are you making happy? All of your friends, your hairdresser, the coffee cart guy, your dry cleaner, the grocery store clerk, and cab drivers who also happen to be strangers.

Actively Try To Let Go Of The Past.
I’m going to give you what you’ve been searching for since your marriage broke up. Ready? Here goes… You are right. You’re right about all of it. Every tiny thing on the miles’ long mental list of the ways you were right and s/he was wrong, I agree with you. I’m giving you the validation you’ve been longing for, and I am proving you weren’t crazy this whole time. There. Now let it gooooooooo…

Who are you making happy? Your boss. Now you can finally concentrate on your work again, instead of clicking through your honeymoon pictures trying to spot where exactly it all went wrong, again and again and again.

Forgive Them. 
I know! It’s so hard! But if you don’t forgive, you cannot move on. What do you gain from holding grudges? An ulcer? Great, so you’ve got the grudges but you have to forgo delicious Mexican food? Who is winning in that scenario? I’m not suggesting this will be easy. It might be the hardest part of your divorce journey, but the benefits cannot be denied. When you forgive, it’s like hitting the reset button. The dark clouds shift and the ice starts to melt and you can make a really, really, embarrassingly cheesy spectacle out of it. Tie a name to a balloon and let it float away. Burn memorabilia in a safe, well ventilated environment. Hack your wedding outfit to shreds. Do that stuff then say insufferable things like, “let go and let god” or “I’m truly at peace now” or “love and light.” You will probably go through a two to four week period in which you want to wear only flowing robes because you are centered and enlightened, so just go with it.

Who are you making happy? Your doctor, your stomach lining, and the flowing robes industry.

*Quick side note: if your former partner was really horrible, like legitimately, legally, penitentiary bad, forgiving them does not excuse them for what they did. You were right, what they did was wrong, and I hope there is just punishment for it. But you can forgive this person. You don’t have to wash away all their sins, that’s between them and the legal system or the god of their choosing, but you can unshackle yourself from the trauma.

Forgive Yourself. 
Ha! You thought forgiving others was hard, well welcome to the nightmare of forgiving yourself! You think you might be having a good day then in an innocuous, quiet moment when you’re waiting for your sandwich at the deli, the really rude part of your brain will list off all of your greatest failures. Every wrong word you spoke, every time you were cruel or petty, every mistake you made. A real comprehensive montage will roll through your brain and you’ll feel nauseated and you won’t even want the $14 sandwich with avocado you just splashed out for. There is no way to silence the jerk in your brain forever, no matter how much bourbon you try to drown him in. So what can you do? You can try to be nicer to yourself. You can cut yourself a break, because while you hold yourself to really high standards, you are still a human being and as such you make mistakes. Do things that make you feel proud of yourself. Help others. Try to learn from mistakes and try to stop repeating them. Try to be kind to others and hope happiness spreads like an infection and lifts you up along the way.

Who are you making happy? First yourself, then others, then… the whole world?

The Oscars Curse: Fact or Fiction?

It’s tough to be a woman in Hollywood. Perfectly beautiful people are driven straight into the arms of restylane happy doctors, as youth is paramount and 26 is over the hill. Second to youth is being thin enough to faint several times a day. Calories are counted down to the decimal point, and burned off in punishing bootcamps that violate the Geneva Convention. Then there’s the never ending auditioning and networking, all in the hopes of landing a movie role, making it big and taking home a paycheck that’s a fraction of the male lead’s.

If the movie’s a hit, there will be paparazzi stalking every meal and shopping outing, and Daily Mail commenters pointing out that the new Hollywood it girl has a weird big toe, and the big toe gets its own meme that goes viral on Twitter. Then by the grace of god and an all-white academy, an Oscar nomination! The big night arrives and by sheer luck and maybe some pocket lining by a Weinstein, a win! There’s five minutes of glee and pride and then some dumb reporter asks the winner if she’s concerned about the Oscars Curse. “The Curse?” she asks genuinely bewildered. “Oh yeah, you know how if you win Best Actress, odds are you’ll break up with your husband or boyfriend and probably because he’s cheating on you? You know, The Curse.” The actress freezes and the color drains from her face, she mumbles and grunts and stumbles her way out of sight. She gets served with divorce papers the following week.

The Oscars Curse. Did you know there was such a thing? It sounds ridiculous, but there’s actually quite a bit of evidence:

• Jennifer Lawrence wins, splits from Nicholas Hoult.
• Sandra Bullock wins, splits from Jesse James.
• Kate Winslet wins, splits from Sam Mendes.
• Reese Witherspoon wins, splits from Ryan Phillippe.
• Hilary Swank wins, splits from Chad Lowe.
• Charlize Theron wins, splits from Stuart Townsend.
• Halle Berry wins, splits from Eric Benet.
• Julia Roberts wins, splits from Benjamin Bratt.
• Gwyneth Paltrow wins, splits from Ben Affleck.
• Helen Hunt wins, splits from Hank Azaria.
• Susan Sarandon wins, splits from Tim Robbins.
• Jessica Lange wins, splits from Sam Shepard.
• Holly Hunter wins, splits from Janusz Kaminski.
• Emma Thompson wins, splits from Kenneth Branagh.

There are about a dozen more examples on top of those. But, is the curse real? Of course not, because curses aren’t real things. Except for that one time Bobby Brady found an ancient tiki idol and it caused everyone great harm. That was the real deal. But the Oscars Curse? Of course it isn’t an actual thing.

Shockingly, celebrities are people too. There’s an entire US Weekly column dedicated to proving they’re just like us — they pump gas, pick out children’s birthday cakes, get parking validated, sprint across the street from colonic appointment to acupuncture session, and have failed relationships — just like us!

They split for the same reasons we split. You might be an associate marketing manager at a home security company and Halle Berry might be playing one in a movie, but both of your jobs can get in the way of your relationships. Stress, long hours, transfers to the Chicago office/filming in Vancouver for three months can all put a relationship in jeopardy. Family planning can be a point of contention whether you’re Helen Mirren or Harriet from Montvale. If you don’t want kids, but your husband does, you guys have some pretty serious conversations ahead of you. (I don’t know if Helen Mirren wants or wanted kids, hers is literally the first name that popped into my head, I cannot explain why.) Finances are a sticking point whether you’re making $50,000 a year or $15 million for an action movie. If someone’s not pulling their weight or blowing big bucks on a hot tub without discussing it first, it doesn’t matter how many sequin encrusted gowns you have, there’s going to be a problem. Religion can tear people apart too. If one half of the couple isn’t as on board as the other half, tension can mount. Celebrities are just as susceptible to joining religions with centers built just for them as regular people are.

Then, of course, there’s cheating. Think about your friend group, how many of them are divorced? Probably about half, right? Now imagine if your suburban town also had a bunch of Hemsworths running around. It’d be utter chaos. No one’s marriage would be safe. You’re in an ok but boring relationship, and have half an eye out for Keith in purchasing, can you really blame Brad and Angelina?

Listen, they might be glamorous and know their way around a juice cleanse, but when push comes to shove, they’re people just like us. Sometimes marriages fizzle. Sometimes they’re a mistake from day one. Sometimes women marry seemingly good men who turn out to be weak little babies that can’t possibly let the women in their lives be the star of the show, even for one measly awards season.

If you prick Sandra Bullock, does she not bleed? She is human just like the rest of us, and the rest of us get divorced too. There’s nothing wrong with that, because that’s life. So let’s ease up on the Oscars Curse talk and focus our energies on more important matters like, what if someone accidentally finds Bobby Brady’s ancient tiki idol again? How can we be sure it’s still somewhere safe? Does anyone have Obama’s number? We’ve got to get down to the bottom of this.

Share and let me know what you think here in the Comments below, on Twitter,Facebook, and Instagram!

Respectfully,
James J. Sexton

A First Date Guide for the Newly Divorced

Okay, so I admit that photo is a little misleading, because having sex is actually not on my list of tips for what to do on your first date after divorce. But I got you to click on my article, so, you may as well read it. Logical? Yes. Clickbait? Yes. But you clicked.

Basically, nobody’s first date after divorce is good. It’s just one of those facts of life, like the first time you speak in public or the first time you ride a bike. In all of the above situations, you are going to be terrified, sweaty, self-conscious, and there’s a decent chance you may end up scraped and bruised or hiding under a table. It’s fine. You’re human, and now divorced. You’re a divorced human.

If you’re anything like this human, you might have been avoiding going on a date for exactly the reason I’m describing here: you know it’s going to be bad. You’re absolutely right. Maybe.

The thing is, you can’t avoid it forever.

Once you get through all the stages of grief following your divorce—and I’m not saying rush through that part, because it’s important stuff—but once you do get that part out of the way, going on a date is kind of just something you have to do. Maybe it will take you two months, maybe two decades; maybe you’ll end up in a relationship, maybe you’ll decide to stay single for the rest of your life. Everybody’s different. But you do have to face it one way or another.

When you finally get to this point, here is the crucial thing: just get all the awkward out of the way in one date. Embrace the bad dateness, because that is most likely what it will be.

What follows are the steps to success on your first date after divorce.

1. Choose someone it’s probably not going to go anywhere with. The main thing is to get rid of hopes and expectations as much as possible; pick someone you don’t have a crush on if possible. I would also advise not to pick someone you have to see on a regular basis, like a co-worker. Once you have a willing date who you feel lukewarm about, proceed to Step 2.

2. Pick a place you don’t really like. Just in case you embarrass yourself, it’s best to choose a venue for your date that isn’t crucial to your weekly routine, in case you have to avoid the place for a little while after this. Low lighting and not many people would be ideal also.

3. Order something awkward to eat. For appetizers, order olives so you have to spit out the seeds on your plate and feel gauche, and/or bruschetta, so the tomatoes fall off your bread into your lap. Go into the date planning to leave with some kind of food stain on your clothing. For your main course, order spaghetti so that you have to slurp it, and/or ribs because ribs are awesome. Enjoy yourself–you might as well.

4. Drink. A Lot. Usually drinking more than one or maybe two drinks on a date is bad form. In this case, it’s necessary to have at least two drinks, probably more. It depends on how many it takes for you to lose emotional inhibitions, because you need to be free and easy for Step 4. (Note: Please don’t drink and drive; one-night stands are also not advised. #NoJudgement, though.)

5. Tell your date how much they remind you of your ex. It’s time to get real, and by real I mean embarrassing. Talk about your ex—you know you need to. Apologize profusely, but be honest. Dating reminds you of marriage and that reminds you of your ex, and you’re going to just name the white elephant because you’re DRUNK. You’re in a weird place. It’s okay. 

6. Give your date a list of the three big ways you failed as a partner. This will feel like a sort of confession and will make you feel better, lighter even. Then shift the conversation away from yourself, because you’re getting really boring.

7. Be entertaining! It’s the least you can do, since you’re probably a huge drag to be on a date with. Memorize a few jokes and compelling questions beforehand. When your date gets that glazed-over look that means they’re deciding whether to hate you, break out the jokes and compelling questions. Order them an extra dessert and proceed to Step 8.

8. Pay the whole bill. You owe this poor person a free dinner.

9. Thank them. You needed to have this date more than your date needed to be there for it, probably. This person did you a great service, and they should be made aware of that fact by the end of the evening.

10. Resign yourself to being someone’s “worst date ever” story. Own it. That’s where you’re at right now. Embrace it.  

Now you can really start to move forward.

Have something to add, ask, complain about? I love all of those things! Get in touch with me on Facebook, Twitter, and/or Instagram.

How to Have a Kickass Divorced Valentine's Day

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s Valentine’s Day.

Not because I’m bitter. Not because I’m secretly a twenty-two-year-old single girl obsessed with Sex and the City. Not even because it’s a holiday co-opted by greeting card companies and chocolatiers, used to manipulate happy people into feeling guilty enough to spend money on things nobody needs, and for people to feel insecure enough to pressure their significant others into buying them things nobody needs, so they can create vignettes for Instagram to show the world their husbands love them the most.

It’s not even because everything in the store is suddenly and irretrievably pink and covered in glitter—pink, the patron color of all Valentine’s Day crap, glitter the patron craft supply of the devil. The entirety of the CVS looks like it’s been doused in Pepto Bismol and blood spatter. I go in to buy a toothbrush and spend the next three days picking tiny pieces of sparkle off my clothes, my car, my skin and my dogs. And yet even that is not the source of my Valentine’s Day angst.

The reason I hate Valentine’s Day is because I’m divorced and I’m a divorce lawyer. I’ve seen just how wrong love can go. And on this particular holiday, knowing how the sausage is made is much the same as being sober at a nightclub. Without the rosy haze of a buzz, you are up close and personal with the reality of the sweaty people, the sticky floor, the smelly DJ and the watered-down drinks, seeing them all for what they really are: gross. Such is Valentine’s Day.

Don’t get me wrong: love is great. Relationships are great. Marriage is great–it keeps me in a job. But Valentine’s Day is a rosy haze covering up a lot of gross.

So, I thought I’d better make a few suggestions for the recently dumped, new divorcees and anyone else who has seen behind the curtain where the great and powerful Valentine Oz is just a greedy Hallmark executive, to assist you in moving on from the old, tired traditions of this super-pink holiday into a new phase I like to call “the Kickass version of Valentine’s Day.”

Here are the components. If you’re as disillusioned with those crappy, chalky conversation hearts as I am (who decided this was a worthwhile candy item??) it might just cheer you right up.

What to Do:

1. Pinch anyone who wears the colors pink or red. A satisfying twist on the St. Patrick’s Day tradition, this lets you get your frustrations out on people who deserve it, people who celebrate holidays far too enthusiastically.
2. Refuse pity Valentines. Say it’s on ethical grounds, because you believe greeting cards are a flagrant waste of paper. On top of how they offended you, the giver will now also feel bad for murdering trees.
3. Give statistics instead of valentines. When people brag about their Valentine’s Day plans, remind them that there is an 89% chance that their current relationship is going to end, so it’s good that they’re enjoying it while they can.
4. Prank the ones you love. Send your significant other a text message like “I haven’t been fully honest with you,” and then don’t say anything else for an hour. Tell them later you were just kidding. Call me if needed.
5. Get a prenup. It’s something you should do anyway, and you can still do it even if you’re already married. Plus, the irony is just brilliant—your divorce attorney will be very impressed with you.
6. Be progressive. When people wish you a Happy Valentine’s Day, ask you about your plans or brag about theirs, look amused and say, “You still do Valentine’s Day? I thought only our parents’ generation did that.” This works best if you’re under forty and cool (I’m neither).
7. Eat your heart out. The original Valentine’s Day—as in, the one that St. Valentine actually had anything to do with—was a feast day. In all seriousness, cook, eat, be merry, and share good food with good people. It’s a failsafe way to suck-proof your Valentine’s Day.

So, that’s it. I’m not even going to pretend to care if you have romantical plans with your significant other this Valentine’s Day, because I don’t.

Avoid my Valentine’s Day advice at your peril. And let me know what you think of all this on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.

Respectfully,
James J. Sexton