If you’re going through a divorce or a difficult family situation right now, I want you to know — I’ve been there. The fear. The uncertainty. The pain, the loss, the tears, the anger, the financial worries. I’ve lived it. And I came out the other side stronger and healthier. One day, you will too.
I wanted to be an attorney from the time I was 12 years old. After I graduated from Hofstra, I was scheduled to start law school in California in August 1986. I was 21, working, having fun with friends, and carefree — and I decided not to go.
On what would have been my first day of law school, I was fired from my job. I quickly found a new position in accounting, met someone, and we talked about marriage and kids. In June 1987, we broke up. Four days later, I found out I was pregnant.
I had always wanted to be a mom. There was no question in my mind — God gave me what I wanted most, and I made the decision to be a single mother.
That summer I took a job as an Accounts Payable Supervisor for a large, well-known local corporation. When I told the VP of Finance I was pregnant and would return after maternity leave because I was single and needed the job, he said, “I would prefer it if you were getting married.” What followed was a pattern of harassment — my position was changed, my desk moved, a doctor’s note for a closer parking spot ignored. I was fired in December. I went to a meeting with the VP of Human Resources and VP of Finance with a tape recorder in my pocket. They admitted they wouldn’t have hired my replacement if I weren’t pregnant. I filed a complaint with NYS Human Rights and ultimately received a settlement for my back pay.
My son was born in January 1988. Five days later, I was going on interviews. I started my new job as Comptroller at Smithtown Toyota when he was three weeks old. The owner and management made me feel respected, capable, and valued — exactly what I needed.
At my son’s first birthday party, my cousin asked whatever happened with law school. “I’m too old,” I said. “I’m going to be 25.” She laughed and told me I was being ridiculous. That conversation changed everything.
In January 1990, the same month my son turned two, I started law school as a part-time night student. I drove straight from work most evenings and didn’t get home until 11 p.m. My mother would pick up my son from childcare and care for him until I got home. Many nights he’d wake up and we’d spend a little time together before going back to sleep.
I remember sitting at the dining room table studying while my son did a workbook or colored beside me. Sometimes he would stand behind me on my chair and wrap his arms around my neck while I studied.
I transferred to the full-time day program in September 1990 and worked part-time. The following year, my mother had brain surgery and was in the hospital and rehab in Manhattan until just before Thanksgiving. Friends stepped in to help with childcare. My son and I made the drive in on weekends to visit her.
I graduated law school in two and a half years — the same way I’d finished college and high school: a semester early. The job market was tough; big firms were laying people off. I had a child to support, so I took a catering waitress job while I looked. Eventually, I opened my own firm.
I raised my son as a single parent until he was five, when I met my ex-husband. My son walked me down the aisle at our wedding. My ex adopted him and we had two more children together. I was the primary supporter of the family while my ex completed his associate’s, bachelor’s, and master’s degrees. All three of our kids are adults now, each with a bachelor’s degree. My oldest works for the Court, has three children of his own, and I’m a proud “Mimi.”
My marriage ended in 2011 after 17 years. I won’t go into the reasons — but chances are, I probably experienced what you’re experiencing right now. When my marriage ended, something shifted in me. I had always understood what it was like to be a single parent. But now I understood what it meant to have your hopes and your vision for the future change overnight. How your family changes after divorce. I felt, for the first time, that I could truly understand my clients not just legally, but emotionally.
I didn’t set out to practice family law — family law found me. And once it did, I understood why. Every case I take on connects back to something I’ve lived: single parenthood, workplace discrimination, financial pressure, the end of a marriage, rebuilding a life. It’s not just a practice area. It’s a calling.
I shared all of this because I want you to know that the person sitting across from you has been where you are. And I want you to know — it gets better.
