Soon after my divorce in the winter of 2009, I found myself searching for new friendships as all my former buddies were all married and most lived out of state. It took me about 6 months afterwards to stop moping around (a story for another time) and to feel semi-motivated to mingle in the social scene again, and even then looking back I realize now how completely awkward I was. I was a total goober, like the little brother who follows big brother around and big brother is obligated to be nice because deep down he knows how much little brother looks up to him. That was me, wagging my tail at any opportunity to make friends with someone who seemed to “have it all together”.

I walked into the infamous “90210” singles ward (an LDS Church unit for single adults) of Cottonwood Heights, in Sandy, UT, where I had recently moved following a new job. The first Sunday or two I held my comments to a minimum in class, which if you know me you know how difficult that can be. The Sunday school teacher was a dapper fella, all the girls seemed to go to his class for obvious reasons, which was the lesson, of course (wink wink). He taught well, his lessons were engaging, and I could tell he must have it all together, so I determined I would become his friend. One Sunday after church I asked if he knew anyone who played basketball anytime and if I could join. He paused a brief moment no doubt sizing me up and quietly debating if I was going to suck or not. Nobody wants to be the guy who invites the other guy who sucks at pickup ball. But he was kind enough to indulge me, and we hit it off.

His name was Travis. Travis Prince, of all the last names I couldn’t have predicted a more fitting last name for this guy. He had experienced lot’s of success and trials alike in his young life, and at the age of 27 he had a lot of excellent perspective to share with his new apprentice who had only recently been thrown into the life of a bachelor. Many of these tidbits of wisdom I wrote down and some of them may not surprise you how true and helpful they were, but to me, he was my first friend after my divorce so I soaked it all in like a sponge.

At that time I thought divorce was the hardest trial I would ever endure. I had suffered for months. Amongst the suffering I somehow managed to acquire the job I’d always wanted as a business specialist for a big bank… and I lost that job around the same time I met Travis, because of the anxiety and depression I was still drowning in from the divorce. With the new job and new apartment and new friends I thought I was moving on, but I wasn’t quite ready to see any positive that could come from such an awful thing as a divorce. “How could someone who loved you enough to marry you for eternity just fall out of love with you like that?” Or, “How could someone want to divide a family?” I knew my selfishness and poor choices had caused the divorce mostly, and youthful ideals of a perfect marriage. But it was all still so fresh like wounds that were still raw.

One day no doubt after listening to me rant about my own divorce, Travis told me something that stuck with me ever since. He recounted to me how his parents had divorced when he was in his early teens, and how at the time he thought his world was ending. It was the hardest thing to understand at such a young age. Why would your parents not want to be together anymore? Who’s fault was it? And so on… He said, “After the pain settled and time passed, both my parents remarried. I got to know my mom’s new husband and my dad’s new wife. In time I realized that I was lucky.” Wait, lucky? How could he possibly see it that way? Divorce was always bad, I thought. Now, by no means do I endorse or promote divorce except in obvious cases of crime or abuse, but what he told me next forever changed my perspective. “I realized that I had two moms and two dads who loved me. And I loved them. Most kids only get one dad and one Mom to love them, but I got two of each. How lucky is that!?”

I acknowledge that not all victims of divorced parents are lucky enough to have parents remarry, or if they do, remarry to someone they love. But at that moment I determined that I was going to become that for my daughter. She was only three years old at the time, and so tender and sweet, she had no idea what was going on, but right then I decided the outcome she would have, and it would be that I would befriend whoever my ex-wife ended up marrying, and I would be kind and patient and even complimenting to him, whoever he was, so that my daughter would love him too, and so that we could all have the kind of relationship Travis learned to enjoy with the new additions to his family.

I made up my mind. And that forever paid me back. It took some years, of course, for the waves to settle and for my ex-wife to trust that my intentions were honest and pure, as expected. But in time she experienced her own trials and I watched her heart open up, and her new husband’s heart towards me. Though geographic location and sometimes gossip or even family’s opinions on both sides could have conjured reasons to create more distance or to close each other off as so many disgruntled ex’s do these days, I decided to compromise whenever it was possible if necessary to maintain a comfortable and supportive relationship with my ex-wife and her husband. I now enjoy a very open and flexible relationship with my daughter and see her as often as possible. Her mother will actually call me from time to time with important family updates and personal goals for our daughter so that we can all stay on the same page. I respect and admire what a successful man her husband is in his profession, and I often reiterate that admiration to her and how grateful I am that she’s found a good provider. I go to my daughter’s sporting events and their young son comes and sits by me the entire time and shares his snacks! We all laugh, he thinks I’m the “family friend” and treats me as such anytime I come by.

I’m glad Travis shared that perspective with me when I was broken and humbled enough to adopt the same mindset. But mostly I’m glad he created that perspective for himself at such a young age, and that his parents did so for his best interest instead of their own hurt feelings and differences, because that perspective rubbed off on me, and blesses me and my daughter and all her parents greatly still today.