When I read that Christine McGuinness, the ex-wife of TV presenter Paddy, will be sharing the £2.5million family home with him and their three children after a bitter divorce, I empathised, I really did.
When my marriage ended in 2014, my husband Adrian and I had no option but to stay living together for two years while we waited for our house to sell.
It doesn’t have to be a nightmare and I’m actually glad it happened. We ended up as best friends, but had we been able to split immediately, this may not have been the case.
But it wasn’t easy. Here’s how we negotiated living under one roof and the lessons we learned.
Don’t freeze him out
By the end of our marriage Adrian and I barely spoke. I blamed him for not listening, but I had stopped talking; I had given up. We had a large house, admittedly not as big as Christine’s seven-bed mansion, but spacious enough that we could pass like restless ghosts.
Once we decided to split, we were icily polite and kept out of each other’s way. We waltzed around one another, passing the odd word. It was grim.
The change came after my week at a psychotherapy retreat. I realised Adrian and I would rather walk over hot coals than have difficult conversations. So, when I returned home, I asked if we could talk, and he agreed.
We spoke for hours, taking it in turns to say how we felt. We also listened, really listened. It was tough as hell and we both cried our eyes out, but it began healing the hurt. Then, to my amazement, Adrian went off to the same retreat. He returned more open-minded, clear and honest.
Retreats aren’t for everyone but therapy – independently and as a couple – can help. Just because you’re divorced doesn’t mean you’re not still connected. I’m a great believer in psychotherapy and counselling – everyone can benefit from seeing a compassionate and experienced professional.
Guard your privacy
I love that Christine and Paddy are putting their children first – that’s how it should be. But how will it affect their lives? Children always pick up on signs a parent is unhappy, so putting your children first means attending to your needs too.
You need clear boundaries and firm agreements to protect your privacy. Make those boundaries strong and solid, particularly at this early stage. Involve lawyers if need be.
Adrian and I were always clear on keeping our privacy, and we still are. Even now, a decade after our split, we have keys to each other’s homes but would never just wander in; we always text first. It’s polite, it’s respectful, it’s absolutely vital.
Never bad-mouth him
However tempting it might be to call out your ex in public, don’t fall into that trap. Everything is on record nowadays – think about how your children might feel down the line.
Adrian and I were, and still are, scrupulous about respect. We have never bad-mouthed one another. We might occasionally roll our eyes and mutter imprecations, but only to the dog. We support each other; we’re each other’s biggest cheerleader. Adrian’s latest book is out now and I’m so proud of him. He references our marriage and separation in it, but always with respect and kindness.
Ditch fears over status
Divorce can bring out the worst in people. Money can easily turn people nasty and often causes horrible rifts. Of course it’s going to be an issue as you have sizeable assets in your home. I get it.
It broke my heart to put our lovely spacious home on the market. It had to be done in order for us to move on.
I had to look long and hard at myself. Why did I want such a big house? Was there a part of me that cared too much about status? Yes. Even now I feel a little ashamed that I now live in a ‘starter’ home in my 60s.
Deep down, I know I’m lucky. Bricks and mortar count for nothing compared to happiness and security.
You say you want to stay in the house for the sake of the children but is it truly just that?
I couldn’t help but have a look at Cheshire properties. Did you know you can buy an amazing seven-bedroom house with two detached cottages (one each!) for £1.75million? Or, for the same price, a drop dead gorgeous ten-bed listed 17th-century hall – leaving change for a couple of crash pads. Just saying…
Rediscover the real you
When we sold our house, Adrian found a new place swiftly; my search was trickier. We knew we would live close enough for our son James, then 16, to hop between us. But, with our house sale looming, I still hadn’t found anywhere to live. Adrian shrugged and smiled: ‘Well, stay at mine until you get sorted.’
Moving in felt strange. We’d shared four houses together and yet, this time, it wasn’t ‘our house’. It was his. It felt as if his personality exploded out to fill the entire place, rather than being confined to his study. Books and magazines were piled in every room from floor to ceiling, often three deep. Antlers, old prints and brewery posters crowded the walls.
I realised how much I had dictated the feel of our previous homes, how much he had been stifling his personality. How much does your home reflect the real you? For instance, I read that ‘Paddy is very much the king of his castle’ when it comes to your shared house. It makes me wonder whether this is really where Christine wants to be.
Make friends with him
It’s curious that our ‘separation’ actually took place while we were still living together. Our house, and then Adrian’s new home, became like a psychology laboratory in which the heat was turned up and we were forced to work on our problems.
Around that time I discovered the writer Byron Katie and her book Loving What Is. Katie invites you to write down the thoughts and stories that run through your head about people, being as petty and judgmental as you possibly can be.
‘Point the finger of blame at the people you’re jealous of, people you can’t stand, people who have disappointed you,’ she says.
Inevitably I wrote out a long list of what I saw as Adrian’s failings, his weaknesses, his faults – and felt pretty self-righteous. However, the kicker is Katie then asks you to turn it around – how many of those irritating ‘bad’ qualities actually belong to you? Ouch.
It’s called ‘shadow work’ and opens the door to deep understanding about our relationships – with others and ourselves.
Being forced to stick it out meant that Adrian and I had no choice but to work through our issues. Had one of us moved straight away, we might still be bickering and sniping. We’d been together for 25 years – you don’t throw that away in a heartbeat.
We weren’t always kind within our marriage. Yet, outside of it, we have found the freedom to be totally ourselves and to become the best of friends. I see him most days: we share custody of Dan, our dog, and often walk him together. We’ve learned so much – both about ourselves and about one another.
- A Pub For All Seasons: A Yearlong Journey In Search Of The Perfect British Local by Adrian Tierney-Jones is published by Headline.
