Who Gets the Dog?: A real conversation about separation, divorce and finding your happiness again

By Kathryn Hodges

‘Who Gets the Dog?’ answers your questions about what really happens during separation and divorce. This book is not just a theoretical framework. It is woven with the reality that life is messy. Even the life we want.

You have seen some couples, once caring and loving, go on to create and star in their own Divorce H

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kathryn Hodges
• Release date: Feb 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9780994336712

Book preview

Preface

Ihope that however this book got into your hands it will be able to help you. The days that follow a separation can feel pretty wild and windy, when things that had previously seemed clear and simple to navigate become full of confusion and uncertainty.

My intention is to help you find a way through the wind and the rain, to block out the screams of the unknown and begin to find a sense of direction again. I hope to help you find your own true north through a season of life that can sweep you up in a windstorm of conflict, fear and change. I want to help you find your feet, set your intention and get you walking again, one foot after the other.

So, how did I come to write this book? One day, I had a moment. The truth is as simple as that. You're probably reading this book because you had a moment too.

I work as a family lawyer. One Friday I was sitting in the back of the court, waiting for my client's matter to be called. I was not particularly stressed about the matter, so I was having a bit of a people-watching moment. What mood is the judge in? Did that person really wear that to court? I wonder how many emails have hit my inbox since I've been here.

You know, the big thoughts.

Anyway, as I sat in the back of the court, I gradually ran out of big thoughts and turned my attention to the matter before the judge. I listened as the very kind judge we had that day spoke respectfully, and in a simple conversational style, with two people who were appearing without lawyers. Through that dialogue I was able to figure out what had brought them there.

The dispute they were asking the judge to settle that day was the amount of holiday time the man should spend with the toddler at the centre of their conflict. It was an argument I had heard played out in front of many judges hundreds of times before, but as I turned my attention to the couple I noticed they were both much older than the average age for parents of a toddler.

As I listened some more, I understood why. This was not Mum and Dad disputing the arrangements for their own child. Instead, here were the grandparents of the little one; the long ago separated and divorced parents of one of the child's parents.

As the couple spoke with the judge, I realised that the parents of the child had some issues—I suspected drugs or serious mental health issues—and the grandparents had stepped in to protect their granddaughter. By what was said, I guessed the toddler was somewhere between one and two years old.

These grandparents, who had divorced many years earlier, were not able to sort out between themselves when their precious granddaughter should be in one state with Grandma, or when and for how long she could visit with Grandad. It seemed that Grandad lived closer to the parents and could allow some visits between the bubba, and her mum and dad.

I watched the couple and listened to their dialogue with the judge. I heard the grandfather's pleas for more time with the little one, and listened to the grandmother's fixed views that he was simply not to be trusted, and that his visits should only happen close to her home.

A thought struck me: these two were still playing out the dynamics of their own divorce, which in all likelihood had happened some time ago. Each had remarried, they had at least one child and one grandchild together, and they still needed a judge to decide the visits that Grandad could have.

I felt like I'd received a full body blow. The couple might have separated and divorced, but they were still stuck in their separation. This thought illuminated me and led directly to this book: my work is not just about the now.

A separation process is not just about moving on tomorrow, or the next day. It sets up what's going to happen for decades to come, and creates the guidelines a family will use to wade through the subsequent changes in their lives, some of which will be substantial. These changes include graduations, ill health, weddings, funerals, the birth of grandchildren, and much more. My being was screaming at me: we must figure out how to do this better.

In that moment I formed a very clear intention for my legal work: I wanted my clients, in the years to come, to be able to rush to the hospital to cuddle their new grandbaby the minute they got the news of the child's arrival, without worrying about whether or not their ex would be there, or whether they had to negotiate a separate visit to avoid a scene.

That one moment, which gave me a glimpse into the future, began to shift so many things for me.

I stopped seeing my clients' ex-partners or spouses as ‘the other side', and from then on always referred to them by name. After all, it's easier to be horrid to an ‘ex' than it is to criticise someone called ‘Peter' or ‘Sue'. I started telling my clients the story of my moment in court that day, hoping to plant within them the seed of something much bigger than any argument they might have about who pays the phone bill.

My moment in court was coupled with an awareness that my work was very often at odds with my internal self. I knew for certain that I didn't want to continue advising my clients to pursue their rights regardless of the impact those actions might have on their own lives, and those of their family.

‘I just want to know my rights,' people say. Well, sometimes (often times) rights and what is best can be poles apart.

I also found myself advising friends who were separating to be very careful about the lawyer they chose, while also telling them to do everything they could to stay away from the legal system. I had seen too many families torn apart pursuing their rights, committing into evidence all the things they were worried their ex might do, and then wondering why they couldn't have a civil conversation for years to come.

This book is not the cheats' guide to legal advice. It's not a detailed and technical dialogue about evidence, the protective steps and opportunities that can be used to blindside the ex, or the latest winds of change from the High Court. The information in these chapters will not be enough on its own to negotiate your separation. You will still need to find a lawyer to get specific advice relevant to your individual situation, and I plead with you to make sure you find the right one. (I offer advice on finding professional advisors in the chapter at the end of this section.)

Instead, this book is meant to weave together two things: the basic framework of the legal process, and real life. It's based on my observations of real people going through separation; seeing what has worked, what hasn't, and what will never work. The book is an expanded version of the conversations I've had with many a friend going through this experience.

My approach can be summed up very simply: knowing what I know, this is what I would do to end a relationship that wasn't working, at the same time keeping a focus on the kids' safety and happiness, negotiating a straightforward and fair financial split, and beginning to feel alive and happy again.

In my office I often find myself advising clients to follow steps A, B and C. I will sometimes add, ‘But if I wasn't seeing you here, and instead we were chatting at a barbeque, I'd probably have you think about just doing B.'

B is what this book is about.

It's about sharing what I would want my friends to know; what I've seen working and not working for others; and ensuring that separation is a path to transformation.

Although separation is inevitably painful in a my-horrible-life-is-changing-and-you-can't-make-it-better-straightaway kind of way, it doesn't need to involve complete and utter ruin. It's possible to stay at least a few steps away from disaster in the inevitable transformations that come from life's big changes, and I explore that with you in the following pages.

Separation is a reality for so many Australians, although there's no way to determine the actual numbers of couples who separate in this country because there's no formal separation register, or similar. Even if there were, it would not include couples who choose to live with their significant other and not marry: when those relationships end, the couples involved usually just act on their personal decisions and move on.

The only statistics we have relate to the number of divorces processed by the courts. But I know that I don't need to quote statistics to convince you that separation is a normal life transition for many, and that you're not alone. Your parents? Your siblings? Your friends? Your boss? Your doctor? Who else do you know who has separated or is separating?

Separation is simply a time when someone chooses, for good or for bad, to move on; to declare that they believe there is a better path for their life. I firmly believe that everyone should have the right to do that—to choose to make their life the best it can be.

I hope that in some small way this book will help you do just that: make your life, and the lives of your children, the very best they can be.

Part One

Getting Ready

Chapter

1

It’s Over

Now what?

The beginning and end of our relationships deserve to be treated with love and care. To honour the intentions we hold, to sit with what matters most to ourselves, to be brave enough to be empathetic, and to understand that our own view is not the only one that matters.

There are endless ways to separate. There is no one way that a separation journey will begin, or end. While there are certainly similarities in the way relationships end, for most people their ending will be as unique as the couple themselves, their relationship, and their family.

Some people live in unhappy relationships for months or years, sometimes even decades. As an outsider, I have frequently observed that one person will often decide things are over but say nothing, not wanting