I was standing at the edge of the crater, staring into the abyss of divorce

I was standing at the edge of the crater, staring into the abyss of divorce

I was standing at the edge of the crater, staring into the abyss of divorce.

Would I call a divorce lawyer tomorrow - or take a step back from the edge?

Was this a triggered reaction from old trauma… or something I truly couldn’t live with?

I looked into the abyss all night.
I slept on it.
And in the morning, I was ready - not to change my relationship status, but to change myself.

I chose the painful growth path.
To reclaim my life from my triggers.
To not let my discomfort win.

There were things I thought I’d never have to give up - expectations I held for my wife that felt foundational.
But here I was.
Grow or give up.

I had faced what David Schnarch calls the two-choice dilemma.
It shows up when I stop avoiding the inevitable - when I finally have to choose:
Change my own mindset… or leave the relationship.

All along, I’d been trying to change the other person.
That avenue was exhausted.
Now I stood at the fork in the road.
I could keep circling the same arguments, saying:
“If only you would…”
Then I wouldn’t have to change.
Then I wouldn’t have to choose.

But the two-choice dilemma isn’t a weapon. It’s a scalpel.
It peels away everything - justifications, self-deceptions, fantasy - until two options remain:
Undeniably clear. Uncomfortably true.
“Can I change me… or must I leave the relationship?”

Where most people get tripped up is stopping too soon.
They settle on a dramatic pair of options that feel true.
That’s where false dichotomy sneaks in.

As one client told me:
“Either I stay married and lose myself, or I leave and finally get to be me.”
It sounds crisp. But it’s probably not true.
What if the real work is to be himself inside the marriage?
To stop leaking autonomy.
To stop outsourcing self-worth.
To actually claim his identity.
And then - from that solid ground - revisit the question of staying or leaving.

Maybe it’s still a “no” to the marriage.
Or maybe he sees:
It wasn’t the marriage that had to change.
It was his stance inside it.

Here’s the punchline:
Answers are easy. Asking the right questions is hard.

For me, the two-choice dilemma shows up at critical mass.
When the rupture is real.
When “divorce” gets said out loud.
It becomes an inflection point.
Like Mike Oldfield sings in Nuclear:
“Standing on the edge of the crater, staring into the abyss.”
That’s what it feels like.

On one side:
Eat my pride. Change my mind. Let go of my ego.
On the other:
Blow it all up. Watch my son grow up from a distance.

When the options are that stark, I often realize:
I can change my mind.
And once I see the whole picture, it’s not that hard.
Each time I face one of these dilemmas - truly face it - I grow more flexible.
I add plasticity to my thinking.
My ego gets less brittle.
And I update my self-myth.
That’s the real work.
Not choosing the “right” path - but seeing, with full honesty, which two paths actually exist.

Here’s the deeper twist:
When I hold my ground - when I refuse to betray myself just to preserve the relationship -
Then my partner can no longer avoid her own two-choice dilemma.
As long as I’m the one bending, she doesn’t have to choose.
But when I stop bending, her reckoning arrives.
That’s the beauty - and the danger - of the two-choice moment.

At the peak of the rollercoaster, some people jump off the ride.
Not because they have to - but because they don’t know how to stay.

A good divorce is possible.
But it’s not born from panic.
It is not a decision made in anger and frustration
A good divorce is between two people who have done the work - who’ve let their emotions flow through them - and who have come out on the other side.
A good divorce comes from two regulated adults, who’ve exhausted their creative options,
and who can look each other in the eye and say:
“We really tried.”

We’re talking about this in the Radical Sincerity Fellowship this week.
Two-choice dilemmas vs False dichotomies.
How to tell the difference - and how to stop making fear-based decisions that keep you stuck.
Bring your story. Or just learn to recognize the signs.
Either way - you’ll leave clearer than you came.