I learned it the hard way.
Can’t buy me love
I made lawyers rich. I bought them cars, memberships for golf courses. I tore my family apart. Hurt the kids. Lost a small fortune. I fell into a glorious all-American thirst trap and sent my life off the rails into hell.
I stood on a bridge high above the river and leaned toward the dark waters.
I did all this because I was sitting in bars and drinking every night. I was rolling off walls. I was falling into bed and keeping to the edge so I would never, ever touch the person next to me.
We were miserable. We were not meant to be married. Never were. I didn’t make a mistake. I walked into it with arrogance, not love. I thought I could fix it. I am the world’s most naïve human. It feels that way sometimes.
I had this successful life and putting one foot in front of the other was hell.
It was killing her; it was killing me; it was hurting my kids. Not all the money in the world could fix it.
So I made the call.
I have no regrets about all this. I have no doubts. But when you reach a juncture like that, be careful. The world is full of wolves, and divorce is a moment of extreme vulnerability. People will take advantage of you. People will pick your pocket. Even folks who say they are there to help you.
You’re on your own. That’s my key insight. You got yourself into this mess and you’re the only one who can get yourself out of it. So prepare for that. Learn to be solitary. Learn to keep your own counsel. It’s like wilderness training. It’s like your parachuted into wild backcountry with a flashlight, one set of clothes and a packet of trail mix.
There are no answers out there. There’s no advice that will help you. You need to set your direction and walk.
- You need to watch your resources.
- You need to get in touch with your emotions.
Watch them. Massage them. Don’t let them overwhelm you. Life’s not a Ted Talk.