Custom software development is a lot of things, but you’d be hard pressed to find a way to describe it as “easy”.

It takes a lot of planning and resources. Often you need a team to make it happen. Technology is changing at an incredible rate, so you need to get serious about adopting a methodology too.

There’s risks and rewards and, like everything else, you celebrate the wins and learn from the mistakes.

But one of the things experienced in all areas of software development, from business owners to junior developers and everyone in between, is the nagging, gut-wrenching feeling of uncertainty.

Sometimes it hits you in a coding sprint or maybe in the middle of a planning meeting. Maybe it even keeps you up at night as you’re reflecting on the day.

Regardless of when or how it happens, everyone who’s ever written a line of code, planned a project, documented a feature or implemented a process has asked the question:

“Am I doing this right?”

Whether you realize it or not, that moment of clarity is worth some serious reflection. It’s a big deal.

It’s a moment worth unpacking because it’s really three separate, important things all wrapped into one package:

1. It’s an honest admission of a real concern.
2. It’s a question that actually answers itself, the answer is 99% of the time being a resounding ‘No’.
3. It’s a simple realization of an opportunity disguised as a challenge.

So often, an individual or company’s reaction to uncertainty can define the path forward, whether it be in the direction of progress or regression. And it’s in no way a task handled simply.

But the good news is that uncertainty in building software isn’t rare.

In fact, the issues you come across, regardless of how specific they may sound, have more than likely been experienced by countless others before you.

You’re not alone in struggling with code challenges — far from it.

Countless companies have struggled with updating production as often as they’d like, however frequently. Getting the beta version of an app launched is tough for everyone, and version 1 is probably tougher.

Because after all, custom software development is a battle and uncertainty manifests itself in all kinds of interesting ways.

How Does Uncertainty Manifest in Software Development?

Whether developed by an outside vendor or derived in-house, custom software tools become the weapons businesses use to battle their competition in a daily struggle for revenue and mindshare on a highly contentious field of operations.

And while comparing business to battle might be a little dramatic, it’s not that far of a stretch to draw military comparisons to those involved in custom software development.

Software developers often serve as the first line of defense in the battle for progress, solving problems with an ever increasing arsenal of programming languages that are rapidly evolving. It’s a highly fluid situation with lots of pressure and responsibility because the features you deliver today will make a difference in the product tomorrow.

Working in this fast paced, results driven environment can place engineers in a position of great uncertainty. Sometimes code is written when the problem isn’t fully realized, which can result in technical debt. Or sometimes developers wear different hats and deal with infrastructure issues and maintain security for the network.

The “It’s-Not-My-Job-But-I’ll-Do-It-Anyway” nature of being a developer in a small business environment can lead to all kinds of uncertain decisions that had to be made just to get through the day.

Then there are project owners that are trying to organize the battle and make everything run fluidly, like an eight-armed organization machine built to communicate, plan, execute and succeed. Project managers face uncertainty every day and have to make quick decisions that can lead to unpredictable outcomes.

Finally, there’s business owners who act as the Generals of the battle.

They’re not necessarily concerned with the inner workings of the system, they just want the updates to flow and the features delivered on time. They want things to work like they are supposed to work because progress is tied to revenue. It’s simple. Uncertainty around progress means posing some highest risk questions:

Is the app going to crash? Do I have enough resources to tackle the issue? Am I doing this right?

Reasons People Avoid Dealing with Uncertainty

Time and time again, people facing uncertainty in software development spend a lot of time considering the problem, white-boarding thoughts on the matter and after struggling to frame up the problem, admit defeat and move on.

Again, this makes total sense because cutting through the uncertainty is hard work.

Reaching an epiphany that shines a light through the darkness is tough business. Unfortunately, there are plenty of paths that help people take to avoid dealing with uncertainty.

Let’s Stick With What Works

Ambitious business owners are, by definition, driven to excel and reach new heights. Oftentimes, leveling up a business is tied to enhancing software tools.

The bounds of this improvement process, the point A to point B type stuff, the start- and end-view of things, are probably pretty clear.

The uncertainty lies in how to get from here to there. It can be hard to figure out just how to define the change that needs to happen to reach the goal.

And that’s when people fall into the trap of filling the uncertainty gap with a healthy dose of “what’s always worked”. To succeed, sometimes companies try to continually do the same things over and over and expect different results.

Unfortunately, it often doesn’t work that way.

One of the most valuable lessons learned is the thing that brought forth success in one venture won’t necessarily be the tools to bring success in another. Or, as Marshall Goldsmith says in his popular book, what got you here — the success you’ve had up until now — isn’t going to get you there.

Instead of facing uncertainty with old ways, it’s time to acknowledge what you don’t know and find some alternatives.

There’s Not Enough Time to Navigate Uncertainty

Another way people deal with uncertainty is simply ignoring that it exists and forging ahead in the interest of getting things done. Handling uncertainty this way has all types of unintended consequences at all different levels.

Software developers spend a ton of time wading through uncertainty in the search for a solution to a problem. And oftentimes, they implement solutions and get things done just to reach a deadline, all the while carrying around with the nagging suspicion that “ something just doesn’t feel right.”

Without proper guidance, communication and teamwork, developers find themselves awash in uncertainty and, through no fault of their own, deliver a solution to a problem that isn’t quite as elegant as needed.

Technical debt is defined as the accumulation of time and effort needed to fix previous work that was completed to achieve an end, such as release date or hot fix. It’s like real debt in that it exists, must be addressed, and can be negative. According to a recent study, companies spent over $85 billion dealing with technical debt in 2018 alone.

Tech debt isn’t just accumulated by developers though. Far from it.

Tech debt can be incurred when project requirements shift, scope creeps, and things change, causing the original direction of a venture to be altered and swift adjustments to be implemented to reach a quick deadline.

Technical debt is just one side effect of ignoring uncertainty. Another thing is downtime. Every website on the Internet seemingly has a story of going down at one point or another because someone just “tried to do something,” despite a healthy dose of uncertainty.

Progressing forward without addressing uncertainty compounds issues and leads to impacts feature releases. Product upgrades become harder and disaster recovery takes longer.

Ignoring Uncertainty Because it’s Difficult

To restate the original point, custom software development is tough. When a company reaches a point where the next level up is in sight but the path forward is unclear, it’s easy to choose the worst option, which is to do nothing.

And again, this makes perfect sense because it’s not in the nature of all companies to be good at developing software.

Said another way, it’s absolutely true that companies need software to thrive and survive in the modern world. But that doesn’t mean you have to be an expert at making software.

It would be like requiring you to map out every part of an automobile’s engine as a requirement for a driver’s license. The idea is absurd — that’s the very reason why auto mechanics exist. The same argument applies to networking, websites, and custom software development.

Companies struggle with software development because software development is hard.

Large organizations have a tough time maintaining the safety of their networks because cybersecurity is an inherently difficult task to figure out.

Development teams falter in implementing DevOps strategies because the concept is difficult to handle without years of experience.

The uncertainty around complex ideas in software development is inherently difficult but the rewards associated with overcoming the unknown can be great.

How Addressing Uncertainty Leads to Progress

One of the benefits derived from dealing with uncertainty is it naturally causes companies to admit it’s unclear on how to deal with something. The act of acknowledging uncertainty in any activity kicks off a domino effect that inevitably leads to reflection.

Posing the question “Are we doing this correctly?” naturally leads to the analysis of the process. And more often than not, you’re going to find that the act of asking the question itself is all the evidence needed to provide the answer that things could in fact be better.

To learn how to deal with uncertainty and unlock your potential, click here to continue the post. You’ll learn how to overcome the challenges associated with uncertainty in development, what it can actually mean, and what you can do to grow.

This summer I got the chance to take my kid to Kennywood Park, an iconic, All-American amusement park just outside of Pittsburgh.

A lot has changed about the park over the years. Some of the older rides are gone, making way for newer, faster, more thrilling experiences. The park is a little bigger these days. And sure, everything is way more expensive than I remember from previous visits growing up in the area.

Still, the place has retained enough of its character to create a strong impression on someone, especially a young kid. There’s a constant buzz of excitement in the air that hits you the moment you enter the park. The place has a unique, unmistakable smell — a mixture of cotton candy, Potato Patch fries, flowers from the park’s gardens and axle grease on the roller coaster’s rails.

I was standing with my son in line for Noah’s Ark, a great old funhouse-style walkthrough attraction for perhaps the ninth time that day when I witnessed something really amazing.

As little boys tend to do in a slow-moving line, mine writhed, shimmied, bobbed and swung on the end of my arm. Just ahead of us in line, another little boy roughly my son’s age was similarly attached to a father of his own and squirming just as much. And all at once, the boys saw each other and stopped.

“I like your face paint,” my son says, complimenting the little boy’s Hulk makeup with great and genuine excitement. 

“Thanks, I like yours too,” the boy ahead replied, praising my kid’s Spiderman makeup.

The conversation rolls on for a good 10 minutes, these two learning about each other, until they’ve got a bunch of the important stuff figured out like names and hometowns and more stuff about Super Heroes that goes over my head. 

And then we’re crowding into the beginning of the funhouse and the lights go down. The boys are standing next to each other, when my son’s new buddy says, “Here we go.” My kid responds in a curt affirmative, the experienced response of someone who’s been on the thing half a dozen times.

Throughout the experience, the boy and his dad are ahead of us, but the little boy is urging his dad to “wait, let them catch up.” When we walk out into the light after it’s all over, my kid is waving goodbye to his new friend, someone there’s no chance he’ll ever see again, and I find myself strangely sad the whole experience is over.

For whatever reason, I think a lot about this brief summer moment.

I think about a total stranger opening a conversation with another equally total stranger in a positive manner. I think about how such a moment started between two strangers and the words “I like your…”

I think about how the boys had nothing to gain from each other and still remained so friendly. I think about how it played out and find it pretty odd that both the adults involved — us two dads — treated the kind and friendly exchange as strange. 

I think there’s a lot everyone can learn from the way kids talk to each other and how it can apply to how we can treat people we don’t know. We can have a real, genuine interest in people. We can make friends and have those friendships benefit us as adults. We can rethink strangers and recognize them for what they are — people, just like us.

If we apply some of these childlike principles to our daily lives, it could make us all better adults.

We Can Take Genuine Interest in Other People

When I think about the first thing came out of my kid’s mouth when he addressed a total stranger, I get hung up on the fact that it was complimentary. He could’ve said nothing at all or complained of how long the wait was for the ride. Instead, he saw someone like him and saw something he felt compelled to tell him. 

My son’s genuine interest in the other boy’s face paint was so strong that he needed to tell him — even if he was a total stranger.

There are some adults that have this genuine interest thing down, too. My cousin Keith, a teacher in Grand Rapids, MI, is one of them.

Aside from being an amazing teacher, he’s an expert conversationalist, and in addition to listening intently to each and every word he hears from someone, he expresses real interest in the words they use.

Keith is the kind of person that should deliver every piece of bad news ever. If he was to tell you that the Apocalypse was imminent, you’d probably think, “Huh, you know, that actually doesn’t sound all that bad.” 

Having a conversation with Keith is like being interviewed by a reporter who believes he is writing a feature story about the best person in the entire world. 

It’s only after the conversation has ended that you realize just how little you know about Keith, which means you spent 90% of the conversation revealing details about yourself. To be clear, he could’ve been the best salesperson in Michigan — perhaps the country — but his calling was teaching so there he went.

Talking to people is an art form for Keith, but it’s not because he’s trying to sell you something. Keith cares about people. He takes an intense interest in people and genuinely enjoys getting to know them, which has translated into a huge group of loyal friends and close, reliable professional contacts.

In his 1929 book, How to Win Friends and Influence People, Dale Carnegie spent a good bit of time talking about the important of taking a genuine interest in people and how it relates to being successful.

Whether you’re meeting people for the first time or catching up with your best friend, these are tips you can use to make sure you’re being a better human being.

Make Sure Your Greeting is Memorable

Plastering a smile on your face, however impossible it might seem sometimes, is the first step in making sure your meeting is enjoyable with someone. In Carnegie’s book, he says you “must have a good time meeting people if you expect them to have a good time meeting you.”

Use (and Remember) the Person’s Name

A name is vital to someone and remembering that name is critical in business, social settings, wherever. Forgetting someone’s name is akin to saying they aren’t worth remembering in the first place. If you need help, check out this really useful article. 

Listen with Genuine Interest

Imagine this: You’re at a party and you meet someone for the first time who is a friend of a friend. You get to talking and eventually stumble upon that fact that you both share an interest in some obscure movie. Or maybe you both like some rare album or cutting-edge TV show.

What happens? You point at each other and start freaking out. You smile so wide it hurts and say, “Oh my God, I thought I was the only one!” When we take genuine interest in people — in the things they enjoy — it puts a lot of points on the plus side of our “likeability” chart.

Ask Questions

A really great way to let the person you’re talking to know you’re interested (and to keep the air out of the conversation) is to ask questions. It gives you a foothold in the exchange — something to build from — and keeps the other person talking.

Offer Genuine Compliments

Everyone likes to be praised for what they do, so do it often. Let people know the things you like about them, whether it’s something they do or something they’ve accomplished.

We Can Make Real Friends and Have Real Friendships

 
I have 1,347 connections on LinkedIn — a low number relative to the company I keep. When it comes to true friends, however, I only need to count on one hand and I can come up with the number.

Every year around Memorial Day, we all get together and hang out in Somerset County, just outside of Pittsburgh. In the summer, we get all head down to Deep Creek, MD, and spend a week together. Most of us have kids now so they play together. My few pals that are single enjoy it all as well. I feel pretty lucky to have those friends and wouldn’t trade them for all of my LinkedIn connections, with the exceptions of buddies who are also linked up with me. 

But what is it about having friends that is so important? 

Huffington Post columnist, noted psychologist, and published author Susan Krauss Whitbourne writes a lot about friendship and why it’s important. She says as kids, having friends helps us start our learning process and as teens, it helps us shape our romantic bonds later in life. But Krauss Whitbourne points out some pretty significant upsides to having friends as adults. 

• Friends can give you a reality check.
• You’re less lonely when you have friends. 
• Friends can help you define your priorities.

 In his book Transform, Jeff Haden talks a lot about happiness. He points out pretty well the things that make us unhappy as well, in vivid, arresting detail. One of the things he says that leads to unhappiness is that “we have no one to call at 3 a.m.” 

Thinking about that kind of statement and finding it to be true can be a pretty depressing thought. Conversely, it can be really satisfying to have piece of mind that someone will pick up the phone in the middle of the night if things get really bad. 

Haden points to insecurity as the armor that shields us from having real friends and, consequently, makes us lonely. Insecurities are learned as we get older, so as kids it’s pretty easy to make friends — just like my kid did with his buddy in line for the funhouse. 

Just think about the friendships we could make if we cut the insecurities out of our lives.

We Can Learn to Not Be So Afraid of Strangers

Doing conferences is pretty brutal and the one I was doing about three months ago in Cleveland was no different.

I was standing outside the city’s main conference center after a pretty long day on the show floor. My throat was the kind of dry and scratchy you get from talking to people non-stop for eight hours. I was parked three blocks away and had my booth in its case by my side. I was not looking forward to the walk to the parking garage, let alone the three-hour drive home.

I was tired and I don’t mind saying a bit cranky. Standing next to me was Mark Meisel, a colleague of mine and, at that moment, the polar opposite of my bad mood.

Mark makes his living in sales, but the thing you need to know about him is he makes friends everywhere he goes. Mark is easily the most popular guy anywhere he goes — industry conference, restaurant, dentist’s office. Mark has a way of pulling you into a conversation and capturing your imagination. At conferences, he’s the guy who everyone can’t wait to see. He fills the booth with smiling customers and keeps everyone laughing. 

In fact, Mark creates this kind of company wherever he goes. It’s a thing of beauty and not everyone can do it, but Mark certainly can.

So we’re standing outside the conference center and guy in a business suit crosses our path. He’s obviously heading home from a long day at work.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Mark pipes up.

“Not to bad, how about yourself?” the stranger said flatly, slowing his walk and gazing back.

“Looking forward to relaxing after a long day,” Mark says after him.

“You and me both,” the stranger says. At this point, the guy has stopped and is turned to us, smiling wide. “Going to enjoy a cold beverage.”

“Ah man, that sounds amazing,” Mark says. “You have yourself a lovely afternoon.”

“You too,” the stranger says. 

Now, this entire exchange between two strangers was wholly unnecessary. It could’ve been avoided altogether if both Mark and the stranger had, as we nearly always do, stared hard into the concrete in front of us and minded our own business. Mark never had to say anything to the man and, in nearly any situation, the guy probably wouldn’t waste a breath on a stranger. 

Still, the eight-sentence exchange made the three of us smile and everyone felt better from experience. I don’t remember what the stranger looked like exactly, but the experience was memorable enough that I talk about it today. 

The strange thing about the experience is normally we’re convinced that talking to strangers is something we should avoid. From a very early age, we’re taught not to talk to strangers and that makes total sense because children are vulnerable.

But when that blanket idea pervades someone’s adulthood, it can be damaging. We distrust strangers — nearly all of them — to the point where we avoid meeting new people. For whatever reason, we avoid eye contact with strangers and in no way will we engage someone we don’t know in conversation. 

The common-sense security that keeps the car doors locked, windows latched, and doors dead-bolted pervades our adults lives, workplaces and social settings, forcing us to bottle up our interactions with others.  

Kids will connect with kids for nearly any reason, including something as simple as a vague shared interest. They’ll start a conversation and moments later are friends.

We don’t necessarily have to greet every person we see on the street — that could lead to disaster. But we could certainly be a little less cold to each other, perhaps if only to create a memory that will last. Or, at the very least, we can brighten someone’s day.

I think back a lot on the moment in line with my kid. I’m happy to have witnessed a moment like that in being a dad.

I think what sticks with me the most, though, is how the adults in that situation — myself and the other dad — just shook our heads at the whole affair. It seems disappointing now that we just couldn’t understand what was happening and treated it like something out of the ordinary. And I think about how as they gets older, our sons will grow to distrust one another and avoid trying to connect with each other so easily. 

I think about how lucky my kid would be to retain some of those traits that made it so easy to make a quick friend on a warm summer day. I think about how much better we could be if we all tried to be a little like that.

Ian Blyth writes at ianblyth.com/blog, which is appropriate. 

More from me:

• The Biggest Secret for a Webinar That Wins
• The Science, Tools, and Tactics Behind Great Content Marketing are Killing Content Marketing
• 5 Forgotten Punctuation Marks We Need to Bring Back
• How to Win the Game (and Customers) with Content on Linkedin

I started hiking pretty early in life. On weekends, as soon as I could drive, I’d strike out into the woods of Western Pa., heading to one state park or another. I’d lose myself on a hiking trail for hours, immersed in the stark silence, lush greenery, and tall trees. Along the path, as my mind slipped into silent reflection, I’d absently let my eyes fall on the occasional stroke of paint on a random tree, providing assurance that I was still on the right path.

They’re called trail blazes—that’s the official term for them—but ever since I started hiking, we’ve called them burn marks.

In general, burn marks are 2-inch wide by 6-inch tall boxes painted directly onto trees close to the trail. They’re placed strategically at eye level and are, for the most part, plainly noticeable to anyone traversing the route.

The colors of burn marks vary from trail to trail, but they tend to be consistent based on the path you’re on. Parks with multiple hiking trails will vary the burn mark’s color depending on the trail you’re following. In some instances, when trails intersect, a different-colored burn mark will signal the deviation. In rare cases, where trails meet, align, and share a path, two burn marks will sit side by side on a tree.

The burn marks on the Appalachian Trail are 2-inch wide by 6-inch tall white boxes painted directly on trees all along the way. Park officials hike the trail often, repainting the burn marks as needed to maintain their clarity. There are about 165,000 burn marks on the Appalachian Trail, which averages out to roughly one blaze every 70 feet.

The purpose of the burn marks is simple: they’re designed to help keep you on the right path. If you’re out on a trail, you’ll find them at eye level on trees as you make your way along. Burn marks are a signal that speaks loudly without words in the calm of the forest, saying, “You’re on the right path. You’re fine.”

Hiking trails are a lot like life itself. There are calm, smooth trails through beautiful wooded areas that end with a spectacular view over a wide valley, mimicking the ease of life that sometimes leads to success. It’s like a calm Sunday in a warm home, ending with a family dinner and laughter over a board game. Or a productive workday, with progress and collaboration, culminating in the return home and a smile from your child. Or a call from an old friend, offering the opportunity to reconnect.

But some trails are harder, with sudden, steep, arduous climbs and rock scrambles, challenging us to excel and push ourselves without the promise of reprieve. These are the trails of health challenges, when bad news comes from a doctor wearing a white lab coat and a sorrowful smile. Or tense moments in relationships, where words are hurled like daggers, each one drawing new blood. Or the disappointment of failure, dragging at you and threatening to sap your resolve.

Still, for every exhausting hill, treacherous climb, or dangerous descent, there’s the hope of something better on the other side. If we push forward carefully, work diligently, and focus with intent, there’s the promise of something better. Marcus Aurelius said, “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.” Said another way, obstacles in our path can lead to growth if we view them as opportunities to learn and move forward.

And what’s more, there are always burn marks along the trail to let us know that, even though things are tough now, at least there’s an indication we’re heading in the right direction. On a hazardous, rocky path, there’s at least a burn mark up ahead, beckoning us forward, providing promise and reassurance.

If life is like a trail, then burn marks are the good people in our lives, providing guidance and assurance to keep going. The people who matter to us—truly and without fail—are the signals along the route. They provide us with confidence and resolve, in good times and bad, assuring us that just over that hill is a better time. The hard work is worth it, and this path is the right one, they tell us, with another indicator just ahead that we’re still on target.

The choice to recognize the burn marks on your path is just that—a choice. It takes a little work to see the burn marks on your path, but in the end, you’re better for it. Ignoring the signals on the path leads to straying from it, wandering lost in the woods for unnecessarily long periods of time. It’s a decision we can make. But another decision we can make is to be a burn mark. To be a signal on someone else’s trail is an option we can take if we choose to shed light on another’s path through life.

On life’s journey, take the time to recognize the burn marks. Keep an eye out for those who signal your journey is one of progress. Don’t stray from the path. 

It’s late June 2016 and I’m using a shaking hand to close the heavy door to my house. 

Outside, in the stillness of the summer night, I hear the door close on my wife’s car. She drives away, heading to her parents for the night, and with it goes the last pieces of our relationship.  

My palm rests on the wood, feeling its coolness underneath.  

“So that’s what it’s like to close the door on 12 years of marriage,” I think. “And now I’m part of that club. Wonder if I get a jacket or something?”   

In a short amount of time, the person I’ve been married to for over a decade was going to go from being my “wife” to being my “ex-wife”. Things — a lot of things — are about to change forever. 

Thinking back on it now from my comfortable, more adjusted perch in the future, it seems like another lifetime and life entirely because it was both of those things. 

Armed with the power of hindsight and six solid years of good old fashioned healing, I can say that the journey was, from beginning to end, worthwhile. The divorce was the best thing for everyone involved. Look at us now, all mended up and figured out. 

I’ve learned a lot and have come a long way as a person. Sitting in my chair, writing on the moment six years later, empowered by experience and reflection, I’m happy where I am. I understand. 

But back then, I wasn’t so understanding. I wasn’t even the same person. I was a kinda-person, half of a guy, who was sleeping through life. Then I was gifted a remarkably loud wakeup call. Without going into the details, it’s safe to say that I was “given” my divorce. I didn’t have a say in the matter — it was a decision made for me. I was only made aware of it and quite suddenly. 

Divorce is undoubtedly one of the most difficult challenges anyone will ever face but it’s made somehow worse when it’s a situation that’s given to you. 

Life-changing decisions are tough but they’re a measure tougher when you’re put in a place where you’re caught off guard and the choice isn’t yours. It’s made for you. 

Being on the receiving end of a divorce is like being  stripped naked in a crowd full of people on a bright sunny summer day. One minute, you’re walking around like normal and the next, surprise, your clothes are gone and you’re shocked, ashamed, vulnerable, and confused as to how it happened. 

But there’s a huge opportunity in being backed into a corner and forced to act. It allows you the chance to see paths forward more clearly, even if your current situation is foggy and unclear. You may be immersed in a fog and unsure of how you got there, but the road ahead can have two clear directions — positive and negative.  

I still think the most important thing I did in my divorce was the very first thing I did. I chose to take the most negative thing I’d experienced to that point and start it off as positively as possible. 

Now, I won’t get into the details of what led to my marriage ending for a couple of reasons. 

First, the rate of marriages ending in divorce in the United States is between 40 and 50 percent. It’s a little more common than probably anyone would like it to be. If you want to read a story with details, ask a friend or might I suggest Reddit. It’s common.

Second, the details don’t really matter. There’s nothing to be learned from pointing fingers at all — in any situation really — so there’s no worth in assigning blame. Nobody wins when you build a massive sign pointing to a problem that says “Problem”. Nobody remembers the person that screamed “Fire!”, it’s the fire fighters — the problem solvers– who are the heroes. As an aside, one of the best things I learned from my ordeal was to be the problem solver as opposed to the person who assigns blame. 

Finally, laying out the details would be an exercise in anger and that’s another man’s game at this point. I say with no small measure of confidence that being angry about that situation is a problem for another version of myself from a different life. 

I’ve left that guy behind. 

But for the purpose of exposition, it’s worth noting that I was given the situation. It was completely unexpected and I was confronted with news much earlier than it was expected to be given to me.  

And on that night in June 2016, when the news was delivered and my new reality was realized, two adults walked away from each other without a fight. I stayed in the house where my kid slept in his room. There was no big blowup, no screaming match, and no violent outbreaks. People needed some space and that space was created while everyone was safe and cared for without any modicum of drama.

I’ve told this story a million times, though, admittedly, never this carefully, and have come to have people say that this ending is some sort of accomplishment. 

“I don’t know what I would do but it wouldn’t be calm,” one guy told me once when I replayed my story. “Not even fucking close.”

I kind of get that. When I empathize with guys I can see how they’d want to react to the situation with action. That’s not me though. I had some of those feelings within me but not enough to act on them. 

I don’t see any big win in that. I’ve never been a fan of speaking with my hands and anyway, my kid had been in bed for nearly an hour by that point. Ripping the house apart to put on a show of my anger would’ve been a display fit for a gorilla at the zoo — not an adult male in Ellwood City. I would’ve ended up having to explain to my kid what was happening, why daddy was destroying the house, and it would’ve been a compounded, ugly mess. 

In the end, she grabbed some stuff and left. I shut the door, listened to her car make its way up the drive, worn tires crunching rocks under its weight, and that was that for the evening.  

I Went Looking For Answers

In the two hours that followed, I ran through my rolodex of best friends, having phone conversations in hushed, angry tones about how my life was falling apart around me. My words came out like ice pellets in a hail storm, tiny balls of anger and frustration spewing forth at a rapid pace from my mouth and landing harsh and indignant on the metal roof of the conversation. 

Phone call after phone call and conversation after conversation gave some form to my feelings, transforming them into a painful, swollen childlike entity searching for an answer as to why it happened as well as how I could make it all go away. 

My mind was a tempest of emotion, a ship caught on a violent sea tossing about in disbelief, hurt, anger, and disgust. I had a hard time understanding what was happening and admitting that it was happening to me. 

It’s a situation that was both confusing and unwanted. I didn’t know how I got there but I knew I wanted it to not be anymore. I wanted to restart this level and respawn earlier in my life to when this wasn’t happening. 

I stood in my unfinished basement, both arms stretched before me with hands upturned, holding nothing at all and asking one simple question. I was on the phone with my late buddy Adam when I looked into my empty hands before me. 

“What the fuck is happening and how do I make it unhappen?” I asked Adam that night.

He knew — the answer was simple — but he was good enough of a friend to keep his mouth shut. Nothing was going to come of him saying, “Buddy, your marriage is ending.”  

I’d come to know it as well — I’d come to know a lot more — but that would take time. 

That night, as I searched for answers on the phone with bluetooth earphones wedged in my ears, I adopting that weird, “how-in-the-hell-is-this-happening” pose that is now burned into my brain. If I close my eyes, I can see myself standing there with both of my arms stretched out before me and palms up, holding nothing and asking questions. 

“Why? How? What’s happening?” I would say, my empty arms and presented before me. 

I understand now that there’s a big significance to that. My mind may have been searching for answers, trying to find out what was happening to me but my body was trying to tell me something. 

While I stood there asking questions in frustration, my arms lifted and held an invisible form in front of me at eye level. I asked questions and my upturned palms raised in front of me. It’s almost as if my arms were saying, “here dummy, look, I’ve got this to show you.”

But I wasn’t listening, at least not yet. Understanding would come later. 

Because here’s the thing about this situation. The problem isn’t that you don’t know what’s going on — it’s that you haven’t been paying attention. If you’re confused, it’s because you’ve been actively ignoring what has been happening. You weren’t doing the things that needed to be done to not be in that situation. 

You’re a child, asleep on a road trip, and awakened suddenly at the destination unclear of where you are and uncertain of how you got there. That’s not being an active participant in your marriage. 

Marriage is a two-person partnership and it takes a lot of work. It’s time and effort is matched only by raising children. I’ve been actively engaged in both ventures for the past 20 or so years so I’ve got experience. 

Here’s the truth about the matter though — if you find yourself in the situation and can’t figure out how you got there, that’s a clear indication of a source problem in and of itself. If something happens to you and you’re 

shocked, it’s because you weren’t paying attention to the details that led to the situation. If life explodes like a time bomb, then you weren’t listening for the count down. 

I’ve talked to dozens of guys who are on the receiving end of a marriage-ending situation and most of them express confusion about how they got there. 

They can’t believe what’s happening and stand dumbfounded at the situation they are in. 

Ignoring the potential signs of disaster is a decision. Owning up to your rule in a marriage that ends swiftly and violently is a feat in and of itself. 

If you wake up suddenly to find yourself deep within the woods at 3AM with only the moonlight to light your way, you’re going to be disoriented. You’re going to be scared, confused, and lost. But this doesn’t just happen, at least in the real world. 

Nobody finds themselves deep within the forest without putting themselves there. It takes as many steps to get into the forest as it takes to get yourself out. 

So back then, I was standing there with my arms outstretched in front of me with palms raised, searching for answers. Now I realize I wasn’t standing there empty handed at all. 

In my right hand, I held the reasons. 

I held the years of not doing the right things. I held the times I could’ve been a better partner — even person — and all the stupid decisions I’d made. I held the indifference and selfishness with which I carried out my life up until that point. Sure, I did some things right but I also did enough things poorly to be equally culpable in the outcome. 

In my other hand, on my left, I held the person I had been up to that point. 

I held all the emotions and thoughts and beliefs and faults. I had the makeup of myself in that hand, the can of fuel to drive the person I was to cause all the stuff that was in my other hand. 

In my two hands I held the sum total of the being I was and the things that got me there, even if I didn’t know it then. 

I didn’t know that then, but it soon became clear to me.

What I did know then was that it was time to make a decision. 

What I Didn’t Do

After I exhausted my resource of friends, my arm fell heavy to my side, clutching the phone tightly in my hand, and I stared blankly into a white wall. The house fell silent around me. I noticed how quiet the house was in the night as a need started to grow within me. 

Man, I could use a drink, I thought to myself. Two fingers of Maker’s Mark in a short glass. In my mind, I saw the oversized ice ball drifting toward the side of the heavy whiskey glass in slow motion, sloshing brown liquid toward the wall of the heavy glass and coming to a stop with a clange against the side. The idea was a match strike flame and angry orange glow in my mind. 

My mother lived not too far from me and I could easily call in a favor and get her to take my kid. Sure, it was late at night but it wasn’t too late so I could convince her that given the circumstances, I needed some time to myself. 

“Take my kid for the night, I’ve got a divorce barreling toward me like a train in a narrow tunnel and I need to drown out the noise of the locomotive’s wail with whiskey,” I could hear myself saying. 

In that moment, I wanted to dull my senses enough to be able to deal with the moment and let my rage surface, explode, and be realized. I wanted to drink and be angry at the situation I’d be given and the life of mine that had suddenly become something quite different than I imagined. 

I wanted to grab onto something solid and firm so I could shake it violently, look into its features, study its design, and then smash it onto the ground and learn what it was made of. 

Here’s the thing though — none of that would have made the situation any better. No amount of alcohol numbing my senses would have fixed the situation — it would just leave me with a remarkable hangover to explain in the morning. 

Raging in anger and using my hands to tear apart my belongings in an attempt to work through my hurt and anguish wouldn’t have adjusted my current situation. It would just leave me with broken reminders of a life that was now strangely odd to me. 

What you learn about horrible and difficult life situations like divorce, death and loss is that they are opportunities wrapped in dark cloaks of fear and anguish. It’s a chance for us to stare life in the face, see if for what it really is, and then make a decision. We can either run toward it confidently into a new chapter in our progress or shy away to hide who we are stuck being. And then based on that decision, when the sun comes up the next day, that’s who you are now. 

In our worst times, we are defined by the way we handle ourselves. The choices we make end up making us and that’s who we are transformed into.

When our lives become their most challenging, we show our true natures with our response. And it doesn’t always have to be the way we are at the moment, it could also be the way we want to be. 

I wasn’t a strong man that night when the four walls of my life fell away — I was a busted, confused mess of a person. 

But I wanted to be. 

I had a choice to either deal with the situation in front of me positively or negatively. Regardless of the confusion I had with the source of what was happening, the path forward had two clear roads. You either handle it in a way that will produce a positive result or you backtrack to familiar territory and live in the negative. 

In the end, I had a decision to make and my feelings about what kind of father I wanted to be played largely into it. I had a choice to make that would not only be part of my story but also the beginning of someone else’s chapter too. 

I wasn’t on the precipice of a divorce alone. My kid was in this too, he just didn’t know it yet. 

Still, I decided then and there that I wanted my response to the situation to be from a position of strength and hope instead of fear and avoidance. I wasn’t mentally tough enough to handle what was happening but I could do my best to be. 

So I did nothing. I went to bed. 

The Next Morning

I woke up the next morning after what was perhaps the worst night’s sleep ever and attempted to have the most normal morning I could piece together. I tried to have the most “Tuesday” experience I could and if it was going to be held in place by scotch tape, string, and prayers then so be it.

“Hey pal,” I said in my most normal Dad voice I could muster when I got my kid out of bed that morning. “Time to get after it.”

I got him up, dressed, and made him breakfast. He stared blankly at his iPad and made his way through cereal and I started blankly at him, my mind a blur of thoughts. He asked where his mom was that morning — kids are forever super tuned-in to changes — and I told him she had to go to work early. Nice and normal, all good. 

I made sure he was occupied while I got myself ready for the day, and gritted my teeth into a vice while I showered, shaved, and got dressed.  

I remember grabbing my kid so we could brush our teeth together and shoving an electric toothbrush into the narrow slot between my cheek and wall of teeth. I saw myself in the mirror, my face taut with muscles and emotion. I looked deep into my own eyes and saw myself for my own humanity, a skull with eyes on a face of flesh. I looked at my nose and imagined past it to the narrow hole in my bone there. I studied my rows of teeth clenched together below pink gums and they reminded me that despite everything else, I was just a skeleton wrapped in flesh driven by thought and emotion. 

I looked at the skeleton wielding an electric toothbrush, mechanically shifting it in and out of his skull, and thought of the fleshy muscle encased in the round apparatus atop my shoulders that was pulling the strings throughout that morning. 

I gave that big pink gummy muscle an A- for handling the situation and snapped back into reality to realize I was chuckling softly at myself. 

My control center embraced this notion, processed it, and produced a humorous response. I laughed into the mirror, spitting a bit of toothpaste in the process and peppering the mirror with specks of white.

I laughed, my kid laughed because I was laughing, and I knew the best thing I could’ve ever done in my situation was what I was doing right then and there. I was doing nothing at all. 

I put my kid in the car, dropped him off at daycare, and went to work. I didn’t know exactly how I would get through tomorrow but I’d handled today pretty well and I decided that was going to have to be enough. 

I remember the night we told my kid we were getting divorced. 

It was a hot summer night in the middle of summer in 2016. I dragged my feet, one heavy step behind another, to the kitchen island where my soon-to-be ex sat with my kid. 

Not one fiber of my being wanted to have this talk. I didn’t want to tell my kid that his parents were splitting up, largely because of the impact it would have on him. This was going to be tough. I also didn’t want to talk about it because at the time, I was still living in shock and denial. I didn’t know what was happening to me exactly but what I did understand was that I didn’t want any part of it. 

Looking back on it now, I realize that telling him was a way of admitting the divorce to myself. Telling this tiny copy of myself was literally like telling myself. And I wasn’t ready for that. I guess there were a lot of reasons I didn’t want to have that talk.

But ready or not, it was happening — that much I had come to accept. This divorce was going to happen no matter what I wanted. I could either be a part of it or let someone else drag me through it. 

So I choose to be present for it. I choose to act. 

In the week or so prior, we prepared for that conversation. We took it seriously. We sat together and went through the initial logistics of our new strange lives of shared parenting and division of assets. We had talks about who would get the kid on what days when we weren’t having awkward, painful conversations about the relationship ending. It was like having a conversation about how you go about escaping a burning building while the building you’re standing in is literally on fire. 

Even though it was the last thing I ever wanted to do with the last person I could stand to be around at that time, we collaborated and worked it out. I’m still not sure how I managed to make it happen but it happened. 

Some people aren’t as lucky. Some people don’t have their ex around to take part in this process. Some have to do it alone. And for them, it can be even harder. It’s harder because being alone doesn’t make the divorce conversation any less important, just tougher to manage on your own. Regardless if you can team up with your soon-to-be-ex or have to go it solo, the divorce conversation is one of the most important ones you’ll ever have. 

The divorce conversation is the first big official milestone in your kids journey to dealing with their parents’ divorce. It’s the big moment where you break the terrible news to the little people in your lives. You take an extremely adult situation, reimagine it, and mold it into some kind of kid-friendly, severely-edited super cut of the goriest horror movie imaginable that’s supposed to air on the Disney channel. 

Telling your kids that you’re splitting up is one of the hardest things you’ll even do, at least it was for me. It sets the stage for literally everything that will come next in the divorce. To the extent that it’s possible, you need to be ready for this conversation.

If your soon-to-be ex is still around, then I hope you can find the strength to put aside your differences for one last time so you can collaborate on the thing that’ll make the situation easier on your kids. Shove your differences to the side for a minute and realize this divorce is happening to your kids they’re going to suffer. It’s important — perhaps the most important thing you’ll do in their lives — and here’s why. 

You Owe it to Your Kids to Work Together on Your Divorce Conversation

You and your partner owe it to your kids to work together to make the divorce happen. 

It won’t be fun — there’s no stopping it from hurting — but working against each other throughout the entire process won’t help matters either. You’ll have your entire lives to hate each other, make sure you take the time to collaborate on things like telling your kids about your divorce. 

I get that it sounds insane. When I was going through my divorce, I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with my soon-to-be-ex, let alone look her in the eye. You may be lucky just to get your ex in the room at all. 

Here’s the thing about divorce with kids though. While it’s at times about you, it’s also about the kids you and your ex brought into this world and they’re blameless in your new endeavor. Everything that’s going on right now is happening to them. 

They’re just kids who have had their world tilted to the side and shaken violently. This divorce isn’t their choice — it was yours — and they’re along for the ride regardless of how they feel.  

So when it comes to having that conversation about your divorce, you need to get it off on the right foot. You owe it to your kids to adult up, put your differences aside for a minute, and work together to make it as smooth as possible. 

Prepare yourself mentally to work with the person you can’t trust anymore for the sake of your kid’s well-being. Put on a brave face for your kiddos and partner up with the person you can’t stand to be around so your divorce is, at the very least, that much easier on the little people. 

Working Together on the Divorce Conversation is Vital to Their Bouncing Back

One of the worst things about divorce is that it usually happens to the little people in your life at precisely one of their most important developmental times. Just when they need a safe, stable environment and two parents working in harmony, their lives are going to be the exact opposite. 

Studies show divorce impacts kids negatively in a number of ways. Developmental psychologist Dr. Dona Matthews says that when compared to children living in homes with intact families, kids whose parents are going through a divorce are prone to: 

• distress, anger, anxiety, and disbelief
• fear, neediness, regression
• a sense of guilt and/or blame
• academic problems
• disruptive behaviors
• substance use
• emotional problems
• risk-taking behavior

But here’s the good news. Kids are resilient. Kids bounce back. There’s bound to be some bad things to happen to your kids in your divorce. But with your time and effort in the way it’s handled, you can make sure they don’t stay that way. You can give them a fighting change. They can recover and thrive in the time following your divorce.

You have to put the work in though. You’ve got to be there. 

Dr. Mathews states that after a year or two, most of the children of divorce who experienced academic, behavioral, or psychological problems “adapt to the new routines and grow comfortable with the new living arrangements.” They can rebound from the temporary hardships of their new lives and get comfortable with their new surroundings. 

But it doesn’t just happen on its own — there’s work to be done. The successful rebounding of your kids and their ability to return to some kind of normalcy is directly related to the time and effort you put into your divorce and its subsequent impact upon their lives.

Said another way, the work you put into helping your kids through your divorce will dictate how they end up. 

Dr. Mathew says “the likelihood of good outcomes for children is increased” when at least one of the parents: 

• ensures the children feel safe and secure
• is warm, affectionate, and open with the children
• respects and speaks well of the other parent
• co-operates with the other parent about matters that involve the children
• facilitates ongoing, regular, and dependable contact with the other parent
• has clear and reasonable expectations of the children
• provides close but respectful monitoring
• supports empowerment and autonomy
• teaches good problem-solving and coping skills
• maintains a network of social support with extended family, neighbors, and community
• seeks professional help for self or children as needed

Working with your soon-to-be-ex partner and displaying positive parenting behaviors will give your kid the best chance at bouncing back quickly. On the lower end of the spectrum, you’ll be actively working toward helping your kid avoid bad decisions. At the very least, you’ll be giving your kid the attention they deserve. 

It Gets the Ball Rolling on Co-parenting

As I prepared to have that tough conversation with my kid, I found myself working with my soon-to-be-ex partner on a ton of really important logistical stuff. Despite being on completely different pages with respect to our actual marriage, we both agreed that we didn’t want to fuck up the conversation about the event with our kid. 

We didn’t get the marriage right by any stretch but we weren’t going to botch the downfall. 

It was around this time that I adopted this sort of mantra that helped me get through my divorce. It helped me put a focus on co-parenting and the importance of it in light of our divorce. 

It went like this:

“I always thought I would spend the rest of my life with this person and I will, just not in a way I ever could’ve imagined.”  

I’d find myself saying that repeatedly during the day, over and over, as if I was consciously trying to teach myself the lesson. This was the thing my brain wanted me to remember, I thought, and it was making me say it again and again to cement the idea.  

And that’s the last thing that I realized about the importance of working with my soon-to-be-ex partner on that crucial divorce talk with your kid. It lays the groundwork of co-parenting to follow. It gets the ball rolling on how you’ll work with your partner going forward. 

Previous to this moment in your life, in some form or another and with varying degrees of success, you worked with your partner to accomplish tasks. The two of you worked to make a home together, plan for the future, and do all sorts of things as a duo. Now that time is over and you’re more than likely going to feel like you can never work together ever again. 

But your selfish unwillingness to work out things with your partner isn’t going to benefit your children.  

If your soon-to-be-ex partner is in the picture at all, the “we can’t work together” is a mindset you’re going to have to change if only for your kids. As uncomfortable as the truth is, it’s still a fact that this person is going to be in your life forever because you’re linked together by the lives you brought into this world.  

Putting on a brave face and teaming up with the person you can’t stand to be around for the sake of your kids teaches you the importance — initially — of co-parenting. It rips off the bandaid so to speak and forces you to work together. 

Prepare Your Ass off and Be Careful With How You Do It

You cannot wing this conversation — there’s absolutely no way that will work. If you go into this situation thinking you can just go with the flow and improvise where necessary, you’re going to be severely disappointed by the outcome. Here’s why.

In the moment, we say very stupid things. We get nervous and try to fill the air with words. When you get in this situation, you’re going to have some of the most important people in your life looking to you for answers. When your kids are looking at you with tears in their eyes, mouths hanging wide open, lost and confused, you better have an answer and it should probably be substantial. 

And when that moment happens, if you’re half a parent, you’re going to feel compelled to say things. Any things. If you’re unprepared, those things can come from a place of anger and frustration and be hurtful things. They can be finer points of your divorce that feel like important things but nonetheless inappropriate for a kid to hear. 

Don’t get into this situation. Uncertainty and lack of direction are going to be your enemy and can lead to you saying unhelpful, damaging shit. Preparation is key. 

Instead of going in cold, come up with a plan of what you’re going to say to your kids. Make an outline of the things you want to talk about. Literally write down all the things you need to cover in the conversation, starting with the fact that this divorce is happening. 

Handling the “What” 

Every divorce is different. 

The finer points of what led to your split are going to vary from person-to-person. But it all starts with the base idea that you two are getting divorced. That’s the conversation starter. 

The conversation starts where it starts — with the fact that you’re getting divorced. You may be living in a home where this fact is pretty much a given because of the way you’ve all been fighting or it may be a total shock. Whatever the matter, you need to say this to your kids and deliver it in a way that’s appropriate to their tiny minds. You need to be as truthful as possible in this situation. 

Don’t get colorful with words or try to dress it up in unnecessary flowery language. Just say the thing. 

Handling The “Why”

Next, your kids are going to need some reasoning. That’s naturally going to follow. After you tell your kids the news they’re going to naturally have questions about what is happening. They’re going to want to know why. 

My kid is literally a tiny version of myself — some copy-and-paste interpretation of me — and his tiny face at the moment we told him looked oddly familiar to me. It took a second but I came to realize I knew that face because I had the exact same expression two weeks prior when I got the news about the divorce myself.

Because here’s the thing about explaining the “Why” in your tough conversation. You’re going to have to do it whether you like it or not. Your kids will expect — and let’s be honest, deserve — a reason for why you two are splitting up. 

But it’s not the time for leveling judgement on your soon-to-be-ex. No matter how great it may make you feel to let your kids know the justification for what caused the divorce, that’s not their weight to carry. Just because mom or dad did something deemed monumentally stupid at the time, that doesn’t mean the kids have to carry the weight of that thing around. Adult situations don’t belong to kids — it’s right in the name — so avoid tossing around blame.  The divorce conversation isn’t the time for “you mom did this” or “dad did that.” That’s selfish and hurtful and not in the kids best interests. 

Regardless of how vile, shocking, or significant the actions of you or your ex, it’s not worth airing them out in your conversation about your divorce. 

It’s better to explain it as “an adult decision based on how we felt at the time that impacted our relationship.” And the always-important end to every single explanation of the divorce is:

“And it isn’t your fault.” 

Reminding the kids that they are participants in the event and not the cause of the situation is vitally important. You just bolt that into nearly every conversation. 

When it comes to the “why” of getting divorced, a good formula is this:

“Adult decision” + “Not your Fault” = “We both love you and we’ll get through this.” 

Being unprepared for this situation can lead to some significantly uncomfortable, tense, and explosive situations. If you’re backed into a corner and frustrated, afraid, and confused because your kids are shocked, hurt, and angry, you’re going to act in a way you regret. 

Don’t be unprepared for this part. Know what you’ll say, practice saying it, and be the leader in this situation. This is your divorce too. 

The “How”

The next logical step in talking about your divorce after covering what it is and why it’s happening is going to be around what it means for the kids. They’re going to want to know the “what’s next” part of the conversation and again, it’s worth knowing what to say before you go into this. 

Here’s the good news — you’ve probably already kicked this around with your out-going partner. If your situation is anything like mine, you’re probably going to be involved with someone that is quite literally running for the door. Your soon-to-be-ex will be motivated to make an exit and the conversations around assets, who’ll get the kids, and other stuff will probably already have started. 

It’s beneficial to lay out some temporary groundwork around how the divorce is going to go in that initial tough conversation. On top of giving your kids something to think about besides their parents splitting up, it gives your kids a sense of security. Sure, they’re about to be dragged through divorce but at least there’s a plan. Their parents couldn’t figure out how to stay together but at least there’s a plan going forward. 

Here’s the other thing. You need to be very careful with how these conversations go because the skeleton plans you make today — the “we’ll-do-this-for-now” set up you have with your ex — could very well be the permanent situation going forward. 

Despite your feelings otherwise, we as people often make temporary solutions that end up being forever situations. Our “this’ll do for now” plans quite often end up being the thing that sticks, and we’re following through with our in-the-moment decisions years later. 

Through the course of the day, I bump into half a dozen “temporary fixes” around my house that were supposed to be short-term home improvement solutions. I promised to revisit them soon enough but never did. That’s life and we do it often. If you say it’s untrue, invite me over and we’ll have a beer about how we found the three or four things that fit this mold. It’s uncomfortable to admit that we often leave momentary patches for permanent solutions and it sucks, but it’s also true. 

So you need to understand that the skeleton plans you make today for where the kids will go or how support is handled could very well be the permanent plans for tomorrow. Everything you come up with could be used as the precedent that was set. It could be the thing that ends up sticking. It could be the thing you end up going with.

The concessions you make today, regardless of however temporary you promise them to be, could be the permanent solutions and divorce guidelines going forward. 

Here’s how to use that to your advantage.  

Engage yourself very early in the preparation for the tough conversations and realize that your input can guide the outcome. I know it’ll be difficult, but try and see into the future and figure out what you want for your kids post-divorce. Your work on the tough conversations can guide the situation and build the kind of post-life you want. 

You need to maintain the 50/50 mindset you had going into your divorce conversations and think that way about your kids. Don’t let yourself be bullied into thinking you deserve anything less with respect to having them around. Don’t settle for only having your kids on weekends because your soon-to-be-ex tells you that’s what you’re going to get. Go into the conversation around the divorce with the end in mind — a shared parenting situation — because that could lead to setting a precedent going forward. 

To the extent that you can, work hard to talk with your soon-to-be-ex about shared-parenting schedules that involve equal time. Don’t give up ground here in the promises that you’ll work out a better schedule in the future — that time may never come. Stand your ground now. The person you’re divorcing — that’s right, you’re separating as well — could use your timid response to having the kids as an excuse to keep them away from you. Fight for your time with your kids. 

Also, be careful around temporary division of any assets. Your ex doesn’t have your best interests in mind — not even close — so be firm about this stuff. Protect yourself and your kids. 

Get Ready to Do a Lot of Listening, Answer a Lot of Tough Questions, and Explain Things Thoroughly

Also, if you kids are like mine, their grasp on the situation won’t come all at once during that initial conversation. It’ll come in waves.

I ended up explaining my divorce to my kid over and over again. Every so often on my weeks with him, he’d ask me to explain the situation again. We’d be driving to get something to eat or playing in his room, and I’d see a seriousness wash over his young face and I could tell he’d be deep in thought about what was happening in his life. 

“So, tell me about how you guys are getting divorced again?” he’d say.

And I’d start from the beginning of that tough conversation and follow through with the whole thing from start to finish. I’d follow the script word for word without embellishment and work through the entire story of the what, why and how. 

Overtime, I helped my kid build an understanding of what was happening in his life one piece at a time. It was almost as if we were constructing a house of understanding around the divorce in his mind that he could revisit on occasion and experience when he wanted. 

And the comparison to building a home was a good one because it was certainly how he learned about and understood it. When we first talked to him about getting divorced, you could tell there was a certain level of understanding on the matter forming in his head but it wasn’t a total grasp of the situation. He had the frame of the whole matter in his mind. The home had a poured cement foundation, studs for walls, and the A-frame resting on top. But it was still a skeleton of the home with no drywall, windows, front door or shingles. He got the makeup of the house but didn’t yet know how the whole thing would hang together. 

When we talked about the situation, it was almost as if you could see him grasping the frame of the home but still wandering around the unfinished rooms trying to understand how the whole thing would work out. 

As time went on and the conversations continued, his place gained structure and was finished. We added parts as we went along and the home began to take shape in his mind. And just as the most challenging parts of a home building project can be the finishing touches the conversations that led to his full understanding of what was happening were often more difficult and involved.  Just like finishing drywall is tedious and frustrating, and the taping, painting, and edging around trim can be a time consuming arduous task, so were the steps needed to help his little mind understand the adult situation he was working through.

Anyone who has ever attempted finishing drywall or painting a room will tell you how it’s no small feat to do it like the professionals. The beauty of smooth walls with no seams and a great paint job lives squarely in the details. That’s exactly what it’s like with helping your kids understand the divorce. It takes a lot of time, intense effort, and careful precision to get it right. 

Be prepared to build this house with your kids. Take the time to explain things over and over the exact same way you described it in the beginning. You’ll need more patience than you’ve ever could’ve imagined to get through the situation. It’s hard work explaining a painful milestone in your life to someone else but in the end it’s worth it because you’re helping build a memory and understanding of one of life’s worst things. 

While painful and difficult, the time and effort you put into working through the situation will be a thing you do together with your kids.

The time you put into helping them build that home in their mind will give you a place to live in it, and forever cement your role as loving parent as well as caring, supportive participant. 

I work for a small tech company in the Pittsburgh-area. The stuff we do is complicated and the companies we do it for have names for which 90 percent of the population wouldn’t be familiar. 

We recently brought on a guy to lead our cybersecurity practice, a serious-looking, seemingly omnipresent ex-Military fella from San Antonio. 

This guy is the real deal when it comes to security. He either knows exactly how it works or has seen it happen enough to get the idea. He worked for the National Security Association back in the day and sometimes started and ended his day in the White House.

This guy is no joke.  

He led a team that was responsible for ensuring the safe air travel for the President of the United States of America. This guy was responsible for making sure the President’s plane took off, stayed aloft, and landed without incident from a cybersecurity standpoint. 

If you spend enough time with him, you’ll quickly get used to his habitual use of terse, grave-sounding, military-serious language for things. He uses words like “nation-state” and “paint the target”. When he talks about getting somebody to admit they have a security issue, it’s “calling their baby ugly”. 

I can’t get enough of this stuff.   

Another thing he says a lot is “left of bang”. Left of bang is a U.S. Marine Corps term that comes from a program that’s all about recognizing warning signs of impending danger. The term entered the consciousness of the general public when Patrick Van Horne, a former active-duty Marine, used it in his book Left of Bang: How the Marine Corps’ Combat Hunter Program Can Save Your Life. The book lays out the program in military-style detail, providing guidelines and instructions for detecting the warning signs or indicators for impending danger.  

How I Explain Left of Bang

It all works like this. 

Events — any event — can be mapped out on a timeline. At the direct center point of the timeline, equidistant from Point A and Point B, is the event’s actual occurrence. The actual thing that happens — the injury, the attack, the negative happening — falls directly in the center of the timeline and is referred to as “Bang”.  

From a military standpoint, bang is an attack, a dangerous event, a point of damage. In our everyday realities, it can be any event — an argument, a fight, a parade, anything you can imagine.  

For police officers, it’s an armed robbery. For teachers, it could be a student failing a test. The specifics of a “bang” is different for everyone, but it’s usually negative. 

To the right of the bang on the timeline is everything that happened after the event. It’s the following action, the consequences, and how we respond to the event. All the “reactive countermeasures” as  they say in the military occur here. In the general population, this is where we deal with what happened. Reaction and recovery lives right of bang.  

When you’re sitting in jail after committing a crime or in your room because you’re in timeout, you’re living right of bang. 

Conversely, the left of bang are the moments that precede the event — all the things that led up to it happening in the first place. 

This illustration of events applies so very well to cybersecurity because we hear about the “bang” on the news more frequently than we’d like and get to live out the right side of the timeline. 

Hackers break into networks and security events go “bang” at banks, hospitals, retailers, and government entities with uncomfortable regularity. Then we get spokespeople from entities with big important names on CNN and Fox News for a couple of days, explaining how our personal data was accessed or banking information compromised. 

The news cycle revolves, the story fades, and news of a new attack flashes on the screen. The bang reverberates and we experience it all over again. 

The big lesson of Left of Bang though is that events don’t just occur out of the blue. There’s things that provide insight to the eventuality of an event — warning signs of the things to come — that are living in the left of bang. These redflags are sometimes easily recognizable and let us know that we’re heading towards an explosion. 

It’s interesting to think that hindsight lives right of bang. As a thing, it occurs after the bang. Still, it’s the brain’s way of trying to show you things you should’ve noticed left of bang. 

Cybersecurity is an easy thing to pick on when it comes to avoidable events. Weak passwords, uneducated humans, and keycards laying around for anyone to pick up are the living, breathing examples of left of bang. 

So what can the concept of left of bang teach us about handling relationship issues. What can it do to help us deal with divorce? 

How Divorced Dads Can Live Left of Bang

Divorce is one of the most significantly challenging things a person can experience. It changes literally everything in your life.

The house you lived in — the place where you’ve spent the last number of years trying to build a family — is different. The “homeness” of your house has lost its luster and now it’s a property that might be sold. 

Children in the most critical developmental stage in their lives have to hit pause on playtime and learning so they can deal with challenges related to their parents relationship problems. 

Divorce goes off like a bomb, the thunderous explosion decimating the normalcy and cadence of homelife, sending shattered pieces of everyone’s lives in hundreds of directions. 

If you’re on the receiving end of the divorce, if the decision is made for you, the aftermath of the detonation can leave you in a state of shock.

You’ll enter a mental forest of confusion, a heavily wooded expanse where you’ll brush up roughly against jagged trees and stumble over thick roots as you navigate the initial phase of your divorce in a haze.

For days after, you’ll be dazed and confused, hurt and angry, wandering lost through a forest of confusion searching for answers as to what the hell actually happened.

Sometimes you’ll glide through your days with the grace of a zombie, having conversations with people you’ll forget having minutes later. Other times you’ll stomp through your time an angry, volatile mess. 

Covered in the dust and debris of your past marriage, still reeling from the impact of the blast, you’ll spend your days asking “Who I am?” and “How could this happen?”

Here’s the thing about asking those kinds of questions — they are totally normal. You’ll ask them — you’ll keep asking them — because they are your brain’s way of trying to work out something you need to learn.  

When the initial shock wears off and the dust just starts to settle, when you the fog in the forest lifts slightly and you’ve come to accept what’s happening, something remarkable will happen. 

You start to reflect on your marriage, happening upon it throughout your day, finding it to be a tree in the forest that is unlike any other. It will stand out in stark contrast from the rest, having a reflective, mirror-like surface despite its deep gouges and scars all along its exterior. 

And while the tree’s time has seemingly passed, it still stands in the forest as a reminder of something that once was. You’ll catch glimpses of yourself in it’s reflective surface and sometimes another person too, though that other reflection is hazy, inconsistent, and eventually fades. 

The relationships we have grow like trees from the ground, their trunks becoming thick and strong and branches flourishing over time to reach towards the sky.  

If this forest represents our individual lives, sometimes bright and clear in the good times, other times foggy, confusing and frustrating in the bad, then the trees are like the big things. They represent the relationships we’ve had, past and present, and our friends, both living and dead. They are the jobs we’ve spent years doing and the hobbies we’ve enjoyed.

The things two people did to make that tree grow still remains like the memory of the marriage in the forest of our lives. The thing tree isn’t going to fall overnight. It’s a reflection of the relationship they shared. 

If you’re like me, you can take that tree and learn from it. Study its surface. Wrap your arms around it and shake it violently. See what falls out. 

When you do, tiny little needles may fall from it’s branches, pointy and brittle, sharp and hurtful, like the words and nasty things you used to say to each other. Whole sections of branches may fall, landing with a thud on the forest floor with the weight of the arguments you used to have.  

Some seeds and cones may hit the ground, reminders of vessels that once carried ideas and promises of a past life. Other times, you’ll stumble upon fruits, once rich and colorful, now beginning to turn gray into a fading memory of the best things your relationship produced.

One of the best things you can do after a marriage explodes violently in your face is to revisit the relationship, look into its surface, shake it by the roots, and study what falls out. This is how you learn.

There’s invaluable lessons in failure — even in a marriage that ends in divorce. Analyzing the things that didn’t work in a relationship will provide you with the tools to not let that happen again. It’ll let you see into the future and recognize trouble ahead. 

It’ll give you foreknowledge of the oncoming next explosion. It’ll let you live left of bang.

When You’re Ready to Shake the Tree, Grab a Pen and Paper

If it helps, when you’re ready to stand in front of that mirror tree and get some learning done, literally grab yourself a sheet of paper. Did you ever make a pros and cons list to help make a decision? This is a lot like that, except on the left column you’ll write “What I Did” instead of “Pros”. 

If you’re thing is computers, then crack open a new document and get after it. Personally I think it’s way better to hand write these kinds of things because smashing the backspace button repeatedly to remove a memory is way too easy. 

Committing things to paper in ink has a bit of finality to it. My late buddy Adam would cringe when I did crossword puzzles in ink. I did it mostly to irk him. 

Once you’re ready, you’ll literally start listing out the things you did to contribute to the downfall of the marriage. You’ll write out all the times you messed up, all the things you said, and all the stuff that you feel horrible about admitting. 

If you feel yourself having a hard time writing something down, it’s totally worth writing down. If it feels awful and is tough to scrawl on paper, it’s vital you get it out on paper. 

The harder it is to admit, the more worthwhile it is to face. As soon as you get over admitting it to yourself, you can face it and move the fuck forward. 

It’s a lot like learning how to swing a golf club — the more awkward it feels at first, the better it is. Write that down. 

If you’re in therapy — and you totally shouldn’t worry about getting help ever — you can share this stuff with your therapist. It’ll be fun to say, “Look at all the stuff I need help with!”. 

When you’re finished writing your “What I Did” list, you’ll have a sort-of personal punch list of things you’ll want to improve. It’ll be like a roadmap of improvement to making sure you don’t make the same mistakes twice. 

But it’s another thing as well and perhaps this is more important. It’s a list but it’s also physical evidence that you’ve put some work into better understanding who you are as a person. Congrats, you’ve put forth an effort in self improvement. 

Go grab a donut, you’ve earned it. 

Now, remember those questions you had as you were wandering lost in the forest of life? Remember when you were saying, “What the hell happened?” and “Who am I?”. 

Boom, here’s answers. 

Your lists of “What I Did”  will inevitably point out what happened as well as go a long way of explaining more about the person that did those things. 

Next, on the right side of the paper, start a column with the header “What They Did”. 

Marriage is a partnership — it takes two to pull off — so this is where you’ll list all the things you think your partner did to contribute to the demise of the marriage. It’s important to be honest when you create this right side and also, be constructive. Put some serious thought into assigning blame for things. If you’re doing it right, you’ll end up going back to the left side to add more things about yourself when you dive into what your partner did wrong. Oftentimes in marriage, there’s equal culpability in fault. 

In any event, nobody is going to learn anything from name calling and throwing stones. It’s just you and a sheet of paper. Won’t you feel stupid for yelling at a sheet of paper?

The deliverable is a list of things you want to change about yourself as well as things you want in a relationship going forward. There’s the things you did that you want to improve as well as the stuff you want differently from a partner. 

Neither is going to be easy, it’s not going to happen overnight, but at least you’ve got a plan.  

Putting in the work to have this plan is important. Statistics say that every marriage following a divorce has a great chance of failure. You’ve got to think that happens because someone didn’t learn the first time. 

Going into something — anything — without a plan is like setting yourself up for failure. 

Without understanding how you contributed to the downfall of your first relationship, you’re undoubtedly doomed to repeat the process in the next. If you don’t analyze what went wrong in the first relationship from a partner perspective, you’re probably going to make the same mistake twice. 

And you’re not going to understand what you want — and need — in a relationship if you don’t learn from the first. 

The work you put into understanding how your divorce occurred, from the things you did to the partner you picked, will help you avoid problems in the future. 

And if you’re one of those people walking around after divorce saying they will never date again, then you can stop all that right now. 

People deserve to be happy and life is better together. 

Nobody ever, ever goes to the water park alone. Did you ever see someone doing the speed walk to the water slide without a partner? The answer is no because water slides are better enjoyed together — just like life. 

Also water slides. Water slides are the best. Don’t give up on water slides in life. Put on your bath suit and have some fun before it’s over. 

Life is better together. Put it on a T-Shirt and sell it at the fair. It’s a fact. 

In the future, when you’re on dates with people, you’ll be armed with your mental list of things to avoid. You’ll recognize habits from your previous marriage like red flags signalling danger in the forest. Conversely, you’ll recognize healthy behaviors for what they are and embrace them. 

You’ll get into relationships and inevitably, mess up. You’ll find yourself acting in ways you used to, remembering how it led to arguments and angry times, and you’ll hear the ticking of a bomb in the distance. You’ll get a chance to readjust your actions and avoid the explosion. 

You’ll stay left of bang. 

The Covey Quote Thing

I like to quote Stephen R. Covey’s book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: Powerful Lessons in Personal Change, because it’s one of the greatest things I’ve even picked up. I’d have a copy of it laying around if I didn’t constantly give mine to people I meet.

Regardless, when it comes to learning, Covey said this:

“To learn and not do is really not to learn. To know and not do is really not to know.” 

Now, there’s a ton of “No shit” in that quote but the proof of its worth is evident in our inability to grasp its value. 

In divorce — in any relationship really — there’s deep value in learning from your mistakes. You can get better at not doing  things again and recognizing what danger looks and feels like. We can progress if we move past our errors. We can avoid landmines by recognizing the warning signs.  

We can stay left of bang by recognizing it and if we get really good at foresight, we can learn to navigate hardships without first having to experience them in the first place. 

Imagine that.