Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and his wife, Sophie Grégoire Trudeau, are separating after 18 years of marriage. Mr. Trudeau and Ms. Grégoire Trudeau make their way to a government plane as they depart the airport, Sept. 16, 2022, in Ottawa.Adrian Wyld/The Canadian Press
Most people do not get married thinking they’ll become a divorce statistic down the road. But it happens. A lot.
And if it does, the unhappy couple – and maybe their children – drown in things to navigate. In addition to the grief and emotional heavy lifting, there are ugly practicalities to work through. Who lives where? Who pays for what? Who gets the dog? What happens at Christmas?
But when you are in a high-profile position, there is added strain. You go through this under extreme scrutiny. There will be (sometimes gleeful) speculation all over social media.
And everything that has to happen before it’s announced – the separation agreement, the geographic move, the breaking-it-to-the-children – will need to take place in supreme secrecy, adding to the burden of it all.
So when Justin Trudeau and Sophie Grégoire Trudeau announced their separation, I worried about the public response. And yes, some of the comments were ridiculous. There were a lot of juvenile “Justin’s available” jokes. Then there was the “If the guy can’t keep his family together, how can he run a country?” commentary.
When a family is splitting up, it is not the time for cheap laughs or low-blow politicking. But this could be an opportunity to talk about shifting attitudes around divorce.
The Trudeaus’ announcement is a fine example of a healthy, progressive approach. “As always, we remain a close family with deep love and respect for each other and for everything we have built and will continue to build,” their statement said. The family will even vacation together next week.
As divorce has become more common, the way it can look on the other side has evolved. And we need new language, attitudes – and maybe even rituals – to recognize that. Once married, especially if you have children, you are forever connected.
People mocked Gwyneth Paltrow for posting about her “conscious uncoupling” from Chris Martin in 2014. But the two of them were ahead of the game.
I know someone who refused to call her former husband her “ex-husband” – the “ex” part was too negative. Personally, I never want to hear the term “broken family” again.
I have thought a lot about this, having been through it myself.
If you’re lucky enough to split from someone with whom you can be amicable – and you share children – then they are, as the PM’s statement said, still family.
A moment that has stayed with me from the third season of Ted Lasso was a scene where Ted (played by Jason Sudeikis, who is himself going through a very public split) tells his estranged wife: “We gotta raise this little boy together, you know? We’re stuck with each other. We’re gonna share grandkids. … I love our family. No matter what it looks like.”
Families can look like all sorts of things. Yet, as common as divorce is – according to the most recent Statistics Canada data, our divorce rate is 5.6 per 1,000 married people – the stigma, shame and weird social fallout remain. People will be awkward, embarrassed, or just completely absent when they learn it has happened to you. They may feel compelled to choose sides.
As terrible as this sounds, you might even become envious of widowhood. At least someone whose spouse dies receives unqualified sympathy, without the taint of judgment. They get casseroles, for heaven’s sake.
I know – this is crazy! But divorce can make you feel crazy.
Obviously the death of a former spouse is not what I or most divorcing people would wish for. But the newly single do not need to feel humiliation on top of everything else.
Maybe some sort of ritual would help. I have long joked about wanting to make divorce showers a thing. You get all those gifts before you get married, but that’s not when you need stuff; you’ve probably got two of everything already. You really need all that swag when you split and suddenly lose half your possessions, while also suddenly on a single income. So come, gather round – have a margarita and bring your friend a blender.
I read recently that in Mauritania, divorce is common – and each time, the women celebrate. They eat, sing, dance, and post about it on social media.
I went dancing with my two B.C. besties the night mine became official – not to celebrate, but to mark the occasion. Other than the annoying/hilarious fact that the venue would not let me in without identification proving I was at least 19, it was a superb night.
But the next day, I still had to get up and deal with a beeping smoke alarm and leaking faucet – and make all those meals.
Divorce is never something to laugh at or use for political gain – or to get one’s schadenfreude kicks. I wish the Trudeaus the best, as they navigate what’s ahead.