When I met with my associate lawyer recently, she told me, “This is the easiest divorce I’ve ever done.” I practically chewed through my tongue not saying, “Then why has it cost me $11,000 so far?”
I think that’s a legitimate question.
Why, for crying out loud, does a relatively “easy” divorce cost so much?
I’ve paid my lead attorney. And her associate attorney. And their paralegal. And a child support specialist attorney. And a QDRO (Qualified Domestic Relations Order) specialist attorney. I generally love living in California, but I do wonder if California state laws have created a system that just sucks money from divorcing spouses’ checking (and savings and pension) accounts into lawyers’ vacation funds.
True story, I swear to whatever deity left us here: During our settlement meeting in December, Mr. Men’s Rights Attorney asked my lawyer, “Where are you going on vacation, the tropics or skiing?” My lawyer’s response? “Oh, the Caribbean.” (Just FYI, Mr. Men’s Rights attorney went skiing.)
My thought: Are you effing kidding me? At least leave the room before flaunting what our money is buying for you!
I don’t begrudge anyone making a living (exceptions include child pornographers and drug dealers), but I find the expenses of divorce professionals shameless. There’s no way “the easiest divorce” actually costs $11,000 for just my side. The (bulls**t) disclosures from my Ex show approximately the same costs. The reality is that this oh so easy divorce is going to end up costing $25,000.
And a so-called easy divorce isn’t conflict-free. Or painless. I guess the upside is that neither of us is so broken that we’re employing a scorched earth policy to our divorce (yet). Every time I hear how lucky I am for one reason or another with this divorce, I acknowledge that I am, but divorce is still sad. I’m still angry with Voldemort; I’m still hurt by his infidelity; my children are still hurt, angry, and confused.
Even an easy divorce has fallout. And a sh**load of costs.