(Page 3 of 4)

You may be surprised to learn that almost everything I have said so far about divorce runs counter to what was considered the common professional wisdom just twenty-five years ago. In 1977, I was a graduate student in clinical psychology at the State University of New York at Stony Brook on Long Island. As part of my graduate work, I treated a family I will never forget - a family that did not have the knowledge, support, or professional guidance to help them make the kind of decisions Danielle and Frank could make today. I have thought of them often in the years since.

My client was Beverly - attractive, thirtysomething, and recently divorced, with a seven-year-old boy, Adam, and a five-year-old girl, Hannah. Like most parents living through divorce, Beverly was struggling. She had not asked for this divorce, nor did she expect it. One day she was a happy suburban homemaker, and the next she was a divorced mom struggling with her emotions and sense of identity, her children's emotions, her drastically reduced financial resources, and ongoing conflicts with her ex-husband, Jake. One afternoon, Beverly arrived at our session panic stricken. "I can't believe this," she said between tears. "The divorce was final just two months ago, Jake has already remarried, and now he's threatening to seek full custody of Adam and Hannah." As Beverly explained, Jake argued that he could give the children a home with two parents. And wasn't that "better" for the children than living with only one - even if she was their mother who had provided most of the caregiving throughout their lives?

Though Jake's argument might sound far-fetched today, it didn't to Beverly. Her ex spoke with authority; she was full of self-doubt. He had money for a court battle; she didn't. He spoke with a lawyer often; she spoke with a lawyer briefly, one who told her - honestly and accurately - that, technically, she should win a custody battle, but nothing was certain once one went to court.

What strikes me when I look back on this case is that although Beverly and Jake were positioning to fight over the kids, it had not occurred to anyone to fight for the kids, for something better. At that time, most child psychologists and other experts on divorce believed that the chief threat to the emotional well-being of children was the lack of having both parents, or at least two married adults, in the household.

The emotional problems of children whose parents were divorced were understood in terms of the psychological theory of the time, particularly Freudian theory, which viewed children's emotional problems as all in their heads, seemingly ignoring the upheaval in children's lives. At the time, almost no one focused, much less did research, on the actual turmoil caused by divorce and the toll parental conflict exacted on children. Like too many divorcing parents then - and today - Beverly and Jake naïvely assumed that the professionals and the system knew more about the consequences of divorce and could make better decisions for their children than they could. After twenty-five years of work on this topic, I am absolutely convinced that while professionals certainly can help, in the final analysis parents are by far the best experts for helping their own children through divorce. The task for parents is not to master Freudian theory (or, really, any theory), but to begin to master their own emotions so they can really put their children first.

When Beverly, who had little confidence left (much less the resolve to take on Jake in another legal fight), asked me what I thought she should do, I wondered about the very real and immediate problems for Adam and Hannah in dealing with two parents who were at war - over them. I urged Beverly to trust her feelings. She knew that her children loved and needed her. She also believed in her heart that her children needed their father, too, but she didn't think it was possible for them to have both. Everyone - including Jake and even her own attorney - told her that it had to be one way, one parent, or the other. Was fighting this out with Jake the only way to go?

Beverly could see what a battle between her and her ex was going to do to the kids. She had told me how Adam got mad at his dad when they fought and how he screamed at him to "leave Mom alone." Hannah withdrew into her shell during fights, and when pressed, she said in a plaintive voice, "Please don't fight. It makes me scared!" Beverly's observations of her children coupled with her own self-doubt left her torn with indecision.

I decided to trust my intuition and asked Beverly, "What do you think about getting the children's father in here to talk about these things?" Today this seems so simple and so obvious. At that time, however, it was anything but. There were no textbooks or studies or experts I could cite for this approach. Still, it felt right. What I didn't know then was that not only were most divorce professionals reluctant to encourage parents to get together to work out their problems, but they were actually reluctant to have them get together at all. There was too much fighting, too much conflict and recrimination. I now find it rather ironic that adult professionals with no emotional stake or involvement in a couple's conflict were afraid (and I do mean afraid) to share an office for an hour or two with a divorcing couple. What about the kids who were exposed to that conflict for days, weeks, even years?

Within a few moments of Jake's arrival at our joint meeting, I won't say that I had second thoughts, but it was clear that this was not going to be easy. "Let me just tell you something," Jake said in a no-nonsense voice. "My attorney is not happy that I'm here. Not happy at all. He says I've got a good case for getting my kids, and that's what I think is best." With that, he folded his arms across his chest and glared at Beverly.

She glanced at Jake, then at me, then looked down at the floor. No wonder she's as nervous as she is, I thought. Jake was an intimidating presence. After talking a bit to Beverly and Jake, I convinced them that I wasn't there to be on anyone's side, only to help the two of them try to reach a decision about their children that neither of them felt coerced into. For all of his bluster, Jake was a loving dad; he would tear up at the mention of either child's name, and he gave both kids a big, long hug when he met them in the waiting room.

© 2006 Plume, a division of Penguin Putnam, used by permission.

Tags: Children and Divorce

About the Author

Robert E. Emery, Ph.D., is professor of psychology and director of the Center for Children, Families, and the Law at the University of Virginia. A frequent lecturer, he is the author of more than one hundred scientific publications, and several books. His work has been featured in publications such as Newsweek, Time, Child, and the New York Times and he has appeared on Weekend Today and The Jane Pauley Show.