As you should know, I recently opened up a new consulting company. I described it in this blog but I have some updates for you today.
I appreciate and rely upon your referrals so please send people my way if you think I can help them.
Despite the name of my little company, “Divorce by Design,” I am also open to helping people resolve other issues that may require a fresh approach to mediation, not just divorce.
As many of you are painfully aware, the termination of interpersonal relationships, especially marriages, can be extremely ugly. Many divorce lawyers have figured out and then mastered how to turn the personal tragedy of their naive, broken-hearted and emotionally numb clients into a financial windfall for themselves.
Simply put: it doesn’t have to be this way.
I understand the terrible grief and crushing feelings of hopelessness, fear, and failure that accompany the end of a marriage. I will not minimize those feelings at all – they are real and terrible and it’s a wonder sometimes that people can get out of bed in the morning when their partnership has crumbled into pieces.
However, those emotions of despair and loss should not be litigated. They cannot be litigated.
There is no court out there that can give you back your heart in one piece, or prevent the damage your kids will undergo when your family is split in two, even if you do it right.
There is no lawyer in the world that can transform your crushing depression, feelings of being unlovable and utterly inadequate, and thoughts of suicide into a good mental state.
Those jobs belong to mental health professionals.
I offer a better solution.
What the hell is “Divorce by Design” all about, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you!
Services I Offer
- divorce (and post-divorce) family mediation
- divorce litigation
- asset division analysis
- legal fee review
- assistance fighting lawsuits from your former divorce lawyer when they sue you for unpaid balances
- divorce paperwork for simple cases
- gut checks on proposed settlement offers
Services I Don’t
- napalm litigation and seeking the destruction of your spouse
Why no ugly litigation? Because I will never be one of “those” divorce lawyers who seek to become rich by encouraging strife. My style is cooperative but firmly fair, with a strong focus on equitable and efficient dissolution resolution. I will never be the type I describe as a “Pit bull,” a style of lawyer who makes me wonder:
How do they look in the mirror every morning and resist the urge to spit?
Even if your spouse has hired one of those “people,” and I use the word ironically, I specialize in coaching how to handle a difficult spouse and their obnoxious divorce lawyer. If you have an attorney, I can coach you on being a better advocate for yourself and how to manage their time and costs.
The work I’ve done thus far of which I am the proudest is the mediation between couples. I’ve had people come to me who thought they hated each other and wanted to fight to the death. My extremely direct and reality based head-knocking has saved many from destroying themselves, their children, and going broke.
I expect my clients to be open to compromise and the spirit of resolution with minimal damage to the family’s mental health and financial well-being.
If you want to screw your spouse and make them pay for whatever wrongs you think they visited upon you with a nasty divorce that will go on forever, please see your local divorce asshole lawyer, because that ain’t me.
Email me for details and sliding scale flat-fee rates. I do NOT bill per hour, which is one of the benefits of how I work.
You get full-service Robin, you pay a flat quarterly fee based upon what you can afford, and I work for you as much as is needed until you either no longer need me or you think I’m not helping you.
Save your sanity.
Save your children’s well-being.
Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org to set up a call during which we will discuss my creative and compelling solutions to family law issues that arise prior to, during, and after divorce. I’ll refer you to some very happy people with whom I’ve worked.
Then interview a divorce lawyer and ask them what their hourly rates are, their minimum billing units, their interest rates, their staff turnover rates, and their average length of time between filing a divorce petition and resolution of the case. When they lie to you (as they will), ask for proof.
Ask them to give you five references to former clients who will tell you they have a positive relationship with their co-parent. What’s that? You think it’s impossible to get along with your ex? Think again.
Clearly there is a need for some original and creative thinking and action in this arena so email me at email@example.com and let’s talk.
George Ponders the Nuclear Option Anecdote:
Take a moment and imagine the unimaginable: you are faced with the choice of your own death or the death of your child.
If you have more than one child, use your favorite for this exercise, or as they call that person in my family, “Robin.”
Then imagine you’ve decided to picnic at a park near the train tracks, and you lose sight of your child for a moment. When next you spot your child, she is playing on the tracks with a train bearing down upon her.
Why did you choose to have a picnic in such a dangerous location? That was dumb.
Your poor picnic location selection along with your daughter’s similarly poor decision-making ability leaves you with a choice of running to push her off the tracks and becoming the human version of flying tomato bisque soup or watching her die via a combination of speed, velocity and Darwinism.
I realize this is an unlikely scenario, but please bear with me. I’m getting to a point and it’s a really good one.
So what do you do?
For most of us the choice is crystal clear.
We immediately rush to the tracks and save our child. We die and go on to our great reward (or not, depending upon how naughty we’ve been) as we deliver to our children the gift of ultimate sacrifice in exchange for their safety.
My use of this outrageous hypothetical began about a year ago when my friend “George” was unexpectedly faced with a divorce. His wife Martha had cheated on him and he was, in a word, pissed. As many of my friends do when they are pissed off and needing to vent, George called me.
“I hate her,” he seethed. “I’m going to take the kids and the house and leave her with nothing, but not until I publicly humiliate her in court. I need a lawyer who can destroy that bitch. Who do you recommend?”
“This is not a telephone conversation,” I said. “Come over and I’ll pour you a big tumbler of vodka and we can discuss.”
It’s important when delivering information that can change someone’s life that you do it in person and with vodka. The personal touch is to ensure your message is clearly received. The vodka is because it can lubricate difficult conversations and also, vodka is wonderful!
George arrived soon after we hung up. We sat down to talk. I let him rant for a while because that’s what friends do, plus it was somewhat entertaining. I could actually see smoke coming out of his ears and that was a first for me.
George was adamant. He wanted the nastiest lawyer available to help him destroy his wife personally, professionally, financially, and parentally. He had heard that one attorney in particular fit the bill and so he came to me for advice.
After he settled down a bit and was elbow-deep into his second drink, I told him I was going to ask him some very simple questions. His answers to those questions would guide him in his selection of counsel.
“George,” I asked, “do you love your kids?”
He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind.
“Of course I do–you know that. What the hell, Robin? What kind of question is that?”
“Simmer down, pot roast,” I warned him. “I’m not through with you yet.”
Then I trotted out my Train Track Picnic hypothetical from above and asked my now-fuming and half-drunk friend, “So? What do you do?”
At this point George was sputtering and clearly exasperated.
“What any parent would do!” he shouted. “I would die to save my children! What does that have to do with who represents me in my divorce?”
“It has everything to do with it,” I told him firmly.
“If you go nuclear in this divorce and hire that lawyer, a woman whose terrible reputation would precede her if it could squeeze past her in a doorway, your children will suffer. Not just a little, but a lot.
“Just for a moment, assume that I am absolutely correct because I assure you, I am. Now go back and remember you just told me you would die for your kids. How can you possibly tell me your love for these children is great enough to give up your life for, but not great enough to give up your anger? Because I assure you – you are making that choice. It truly is that simple.”
Then he cried.