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A couple of weeks ago, I announced that my husband and I had separated.
I have spent a lot of time since not only in mediation but thinking about no-fault divorce. I live in California, where all divorces are no fault, and where the first no-fault law was enacted in 1969 by then-governor and divorcee Ronald Reagan.
Still, after the election, I felt a sudden panic that I wouldn’t be able to get out of my marriage. I had dragged my feet on paperwork, worried about losing access to Jon’s employee-sponsored health insurance. But now here I was, debating which I might lose first under the new presidential administration—my right to health or to happiness?
So, a few days before Thanksgiving, I finally filed for divorce, paying the hefty court fee, and checking the box that said “irreconcilable differences.”