97 Books Like The Good Divorce

I’m a physical therapist, certified yoga therapist, and Hakomi practitioner who has spent over twenty-five years helping people heal from physical and emotional pain through the integration of yoga, mindfulness and western medicine. My passion for this topic comes from my own transformation—moving through trauma and burnout into a life guided by mindfulness, movement, and compassion. I’ve seen again and again that presence is the medicine that changes everything. Writing and teaching about this path feels like offering others the same lifeline that once saved me.

My first experience with divorce happened when I was still in diapers with the highly contentious separation of my parents, who were far too young to do it any differently. Mostly because there was no guidance for how to divorce well back in the 1950s. Shame, victimization, and unresolved rage were the atmosphere I grew up in. I’d like to say they eventually worked it out, yet it wasn’t until 60 years later that they could be in the same room and be civil. When my husband (now affectionately called my wasband) and I divorced, I’m beyond grateful that we decided it doesn’t have to be that way.  

My first experience with divorce happened when I was still in diapers with the highly contentious separation of my parents, who were far too young to do it any differently. Mostly because there was no guidance for how to divorce well back in the 1950s. Shame, victimization, and unresolved rage were the atmosphere I grew up in. I’d like to say they eventually worked it out, yet it wasn’t until 60 years later that they could be in the same room and be civil. When my husband (now affectionately called my wasband) and I divorced, I’m beyond grateful that we decided it doesn’t have to be that way.  

My first experience with divorce happened when I was still in diapers with the highly contentious separation of my parents, who were far too young to do it any differently. Mostly because there was no guidance for how to divorce well back in the 1950s. Shame, victimization, and unresolved rage were the atmosphere I grew up in. I’d like to say they eventually worked it out, yet it wasn’t until 60 years later that they could be in the same room and be civil. When my husband (now affectionately called my wasband) and I divorced, I’m beyond grateful that we decided it doesn’t have to be that way.  

It was almost by accident that I became who I turned out to be as a professional, a developmental scientist interested in how early-life experiences shape who we become. Had someone asked me when I graduated from high school what were the chances of me becoming a scientist and teacher, I would have answered “zero, zero”! During my now 40+ year academic career I've come to appreciate how complex the many forces are that shape who we become. There's no nature without nurture and no nurture without nature. This emergent realization led me to learn about and study many aspects of developmental experience, like parenting and peer relations, and the role of genetics and evolution.

I am a graduate of Williams College and Princeton University and now a professor and former dean of arts and letters at the University of Notre Dame. As dean, I learned that too many of Notre Dame’s students were majoring in business. Invariably, when I asked them about their rationale, they would confess that their favorite courses were in the arts and sciences. They might have followed their passions, I thought, if they and their parents had a deeper sense of the value of a liberal arts education, so I wrote this book to answer their questions and give them justified confidence in the value of liberal arts courses.  

Writing the Olga book was a privilege in several senses. I got to hang out for five years with a remarkable human who kicked my butt (in the nicest possible way) and pulled me out of a midlife funk with the example of her indomitable spirit. Just as significantly, I got to delve deeply into the question of What makes some people almost … bulletproof? To what degree is healthy aging, well … a choice? This is really all a writer can ask for: to stumble on a subject that will never exhaust itself, that will just continue to open new angles. One way or another, I keep writing about Olga, and I suspect I always will.

I have been practicing some flavor of non-monogamy for over a decade now—and how much has changed in the past few years! In my coaching practice, I’ve seen an increase in clients who are trying to evaluate what kind of relationship is best for them. Many people know that the traditional dating game and lifelong monogamy are not for them, but they also feel concerned, intimidated, or confused by exploring non-monogamy. These books have helped many of my clients get perspective on how non-monogamous relationships work in real life. 

I experienced being a parent as a return to my own childhood. As much as I enjoyed teaching my children, I loved learning from them as well. That got me thinking about how one might recapture the joys and insights of childhood. As a philosopher interested in education, I have long wondered whether we leave childhood behind or somehow carry it with us into old age. I discovered that several important philosophers, such as Aristotle, Augustine, and Rousseau have keen insights about the relation of childhood to adulthood. And the biblical Jesus seems to have been the first person to suggest that adults can learn from children. 

As a Certified Divorce Coach and Certified Divorce Financial Analyst®, I work with clients during one of the most difficult stages of their lives. Clients often feel regretful about the past and fearful for the future, and the right book recommendation can really help them move forward. I often give clients reading assignments between coaching sessions that help them process their grief, figure out their goals, educate themselves about finances, feel less alone in the divorce process, and become more confident in making major decisions. I’m never not reading on this subject.