One thing you don't get from movies that deal with divorce like, for instance, A Marriage Story or its 1970s precursor, the Dustin Hoffman/Meryl Streep vehicle Kramer vs. Kramer, is how unemotional the whole process is. For everyone except for the people being directly affected, that is.
Talk to anyone who's gone through a divorce, and you invariably get the same reaction. They expected to go before the judge. Plead their case about how they were done wrong. That there would be pain and anguish and vitriol. Souls laid bare and grievances aired before the world and on the public record. But instead, it ends up being a proceeding with all the raw emotion of getting your driver's license renewed.
I've witnessed it first hand. Not my own situation, I'm pleased to report. (As long as my devoted Irish Rose keeps being distracted by Figure Skating coverage and dramas about the British Royals, I survive another day.) But because for a while I worked for the MA Probate and Family Court, which is essentially a marriage slaughterhouse. A meat-processing plant where once-loving relationships meet a grisly end, every hour of every day. So I've always tried to prepare my friends getting on that conveyor belt toward the rotating knives not to expect an Airing of the Grievances. To instead be ready for a cold, antiseptic process where no one gives a hoot in hell about who was always coming home late from the bar, and who started spending a lot of free time outside of work with Dennis, the handsome new account executive who does CrossFit and who's one red scarf away from being guy in the thumbnail for every Hallmark Channel Christmas movie.
Divorce is just like breaking up a business partnership. No different than if the two of you were dissolving the dry cleaners or sub shop you owned. What are your assets? What are your liabilities? Take what's left. Factor in the kids. Divide by two. Sign here. Initial here. Sign at the bottom. Congratulations. You're single again.
All of which is preamble for this story. Which proves that it doesn't matter if the marriage you're about to end has the assets of a small business or an international conglomerate, the process is equally sterile and devoid of feeling:
Source - It has been revealed that Tom Brady and Gisele Bundchen had an 'ironclad prenup' that allowed them to quickly settle their divorce, according to Page Six.
The former couple - who confirmed their split in October - boasts an estimated combined net worth of $733 million that includes a $26 million property portfolio and multiple businesses.
Brady, 45, and Bundchen, 42, reportedly hashed out an inflexible prenuptial agreement in 2009 that would protect their individual wealth and simplify the division of assets.
'There was an ironclad prenup set down before they married in 2009,' a source told the outlet Wednesday.
'They both have their own separate business entities, so the separation of their wealth wasn't that complicated in the end. The only other major factor was dividing up their massive property portfolio.'
And there is the perfect illustration of why the prenup was invented, and the pluperfect example of how useful it can be.
I think most of us normies have a weird feeling about the very idea of them. And with good reason. You love each other. Want to spend the rest of your lives together. One of you breaks out the surprise ring and pops the question. Immediately you start making plans. Envisioning your future. Growing old together. Sitting on the rocking chairs on the porch hand in hand watching the sunset like the couple in an Erectile Dysfunction ad, well into your 90s. So how then does anyone pull off the awkward pivot to, "But in case things don't work out, I'll need it in writing that I get the Tesla and the beach house …"
And yet, this is how it works when you have one. It turns the whole process into something you can do at the Probate Court drive-thru, because all the I's were dotted and T's were crossed for this break up before they even jumped the broom 13 years ago. And theirs was probably less awkward than most because they'd each already built an empire before they even met.
Besides, this is so Brady. Leave it to him to prepare for this moment no one else would've seen coming. Just like he was ready to put on the final drive against the 2001 Rams instead of taking a knee, and to score the last 31 points against the Falcons. Hell, he'd probably studied film of Gisele's attorneys before he bought her engagement ring, and knew what he could get into the agreement. The GOAT of football, now the GOAT of 3/4 million divorce settlements. Let's not be at all surprised when this is all finalized and he becomes the GOAT of divorcees.