I believe divorce is something to be avoided.

               However, if love has gone awry, or if there is neglect or abuse, divorce provides a peaceful, albeit sometimes sad, way to wind that marriage down. Perhaps a little like a controlled burn of the prairie so new plants can carpet the landscape.

               Divorce, especially for women, has not reliably existed for women in abusive or no longer good faith marriages. Henry VIII would be a notable exception as a man who sought a divorce, though his divorce was to wed Anne Boleyn for a male heir. On some level, we should celebrate and give thanks for living in a time where if a marriage has soured beyond the point of repair, divorce is possible. The couple no longer has to pretend for the children’s sake, stay chained on parallel tracks, or expose their children to continuous noxious powder keg conflict.

               It doesn’t mean it’s easy. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t mean there isn’t regret, anger, or sadness. It means, however, that a piece of paper doesn’t matter more than life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

That a piece of paper doesn’t matter more than having children live outside of emotional war zones.

That a piece of paper doesn’t matter more than adults getting to live outside of abuse or neglect.

Mary Queen of Scots said, “In my end is my beginning” at her execution (this wasn’t complete hyperbole, as the current Windsor line is descended from her), and maybe that can be so even in divorce as well.