Born as the second-oldest son in a family of five boys spaced two years apart, my childhood was carefree, the days of summer spent with friends and family catching snakes and frogs and playing night games all over the neighborhood. My parents were loving and attentive and gave me wonderful years of growing up. After High School, I left to serve a two-year mission for my church in France before coming home and studying for an eventual double-major in English and French. While working my way through college, I was set up on a blind date with a coworker’s sister, and this coworker’s sister would become my wife on a brisk January morning. After struggling through infertility treatments and miscarriages, our family was blessed with two beautiful children—a son in 2007 and a daughter in 2012. Despite the hardships, our family was happy and content. I went back to school and got a Master’s degree, and then supported my wife as she went back to school to get her Bachelor’s degree. It was only after those initial 12 years that I started noticing hairline fractures in my marriage. During those final three years of my 15-year marriage, I experienced the extreme highs and lows of despair, hope, healing, and finally pain and sorrow when my wife asked for a divorce. Those hairline fractures grew, were repaired, and then shattered apart. Over the last few years, I have navigated healing from my divorce while simultaneously taking care of my children full time, volunteering in my daughter’s classroom, and trying my hand at dating, all the while trying to maintain my own sanity. When I’m not taking care of my children or working on helping others heal from their divorces, I enjoy training for triathlons or short races and attending Broadway or Symphony shows.