The Question I Get Asked Most: How Do You Work in Divorce Every Day?

After years of doing this work, one question still comes up more than any other when people learn what I do for a living:

“How do you work in divorce all the time?”

I understand why people ask. Divorce exposes some of the hardest, messiest moments in a person’s life. The confidence depletion. The overwhelm. The grief over a future that didn’t unfold the way you planned. Most people want to get as far away from that pain as possible. They can’t imagine choosing to sit in it with others every day.

I understand that perspective deeply—because I’ve been there.

About ten years ago, I was where so many of you are now, trying to make sense of a change I didn’t ask for and couldn’t undo. I couldn’t picture life on the other side of divorce. It took time—more time than I wanted—for glimpses of possibility to appear. And even longer to feel gratitude for the life I was rebuilding.

Today, I can honestly say this:
Successfully navigating my way through the storm—eating the shit sandwich, as I often call divorce—ended up being a gift in ways I couldn’t see at the time.

Here’s why.

I discovered how strong I really am.‍

Early on, I realized there was no way around my divorce—only through it. And that meant I had a choice in how I showed up. I could stay angry and miserable, or I could stay open to possibility. One question shifted everything for me: What if this isn’t the worst thing that ever happened? That question gave me perspective and helped me notice small wins along the way—wins that are easy to miss when you’re in survival mode.

I modeled resilience for my kids.‍

You may know that I have 26-year-old twins, Hannah and Max. I’m incredibly grateful for the people they’ve become and for the relationships we share. I made plenty of mistakes as I figured out our new normal, but they also saw me struggle and recover. They watched me do hard things when I didn’t feel strong at all. They learned that we show up for each other—and I believe their bond benefited from that. Would those things have happened without divorce? Maybe. But I’ll take the win.

I found the work I’m meant to do.‍

Realizing I could pivot and build a career helping others move through divorce with clarity and intention changed everything for me. My own experience led me directly to work that feels meaningful and aligned. I wouldn’t be here without my divorce—and I don’t take that lightly.

I learned how to build a life from the inside out.‍

I see so many people trying to fill the emptiness divorce creates with someone new. The urge to numb the pain or distract yourself is real—I get it. But lasting peace and healthy partnerships almost always start internally. Doing that work first isn’t easy, and it often takes longer than we want, but I’ve never seen someone regret investing in themselves before moving fully into the next chapter. I love my partner deeply, and I also know I’ll be okay no matter what. That knowing changes everything.

I built a life—and partnership—I truly adore.‍

I don’t talk a lot about dating post-divorce, but a few things mattered for me. We went slowly, even when it felt uncomfortable. I bought my own house—a home just for me and my kids—because we weren’t ready to live together yet, and that mattered. We talk about the hard things, even when we don’t want to, because communication is our glue. We know our divorces taught us lessons we carry forward intentionally. We also know we probably wouldn’t have worked if we’d met decades earlier. Growth mattered.

There’s more I could share about my life now—with my kids, stepkids, and dogs—and I’m always happy to talk about it if that’s helpful. I’ve simply tried to keep the focus where it belongs: on supporting people through the divorce process itself.

And here’s the heart of why I do this work.

I believe deeply that everyone deserves the right emotional support during divorce. Someone who reminds you of your strength, advocates for your clarity, steadies you when everything feels shaky, and helps you take the next step when you can’t see the whole path yet. Friends and family are invaluable—but they can’t be everything, and they shouldn’t have to be.

I help people feel hopeful again. I help them imagine a future—even one filled with uncertainty—and trust that they can handle it. I remind them that they still deserve good things.

Is divorce a shit sandwich? Absolutely.
And it’s also an opportunity for profound growth.

As this year comes to a close, that’s something I believe more than ever. And I believe you deserve that growth, too.