Divorce is not the end of the world. It's worse to stay in an

“Divorce is not the end of the world. It's worse to stay in an unhealthy marriage. That's a worse example for the children.” — Jerry Hall

In these words, Jerry Hall speaks with the tempered wisdom of one who has walked through both love and loss, through union and separation, and come to see that sometimes, the breaking of a bond can be an act of mercy rather than destruction. The ancients would have said that there are two kinds of endings — those born of failure and those born of courage. Divorce, as Hall reminds us, belongs to the latter when it is chosen to preserve dignity, peace, and truth. For it is not the dissolution of a marriage that poisons a home, but the persistence of unhealthy love — a love twisted by resentment, silence, and despair.

From the earliest days of human history, marriage has been revered as sacred — a union of souls meant to mirror harmony in heaven. Yet the ancients, too, understood that when harmony turns to harm, the sacred becomes corrupted. The philosopher Epicurus once said that it is better to live in simplicity with peace than in luxury with strife. The same holds true for marriage: when peace departs, the form remains but the spirit dies. To remain within that lifeless shell, pretending it still breathes, is to teach children that love means endurance without joy, and loyalty without light.

Hall’s insight pierces through the illusion of appearances. Many believe that staying together “for the children” preserves stability, yet children learn not from perfection, but from truth. They absorb not the words of their parents, but the atmosphere of their home. When that air is thick with tension, coldness, and quiet suffering, the lesson they inherit is that love must be endured, not celebrated. The breaking of such a false peace, painful as it is, becomes a liberation — a chance for all souls involved to heal and begin anew.

History offers many examples of those who chose truth over appearance. Consider Eleanor Roosevelt, who, though bound in a marriage filled with distance and betrayal, refused to let her spirit be caged by convention. In time, she found her own voice — a voice that would echo across nations as a champion of human rights and compassion. Though her union to Franklin endured in name, she redefined love itself — showing that dignity and self-respect are not enemies of commitment, but its highest form. Her life, like Hall’s words, teaches that sometimes the courage to separate is greater than the cowardice of staying merely to conform.

In the eyes of the wise, divorce is not a failure, but a reckoning — the moment when illusion yields to authenticity. To end an unhealthy marriage is not to destroy the family, but to rebuild it on a foundation of truth. The heart that remains in chains cannot teach freedom; the soul that endures bitterness cannot teach compassion. When parents choose honesty over pretense, they show their children that self-worth is sacred, that love must never come at the cost of one’s peace.

Still, Hall’s words carry both compassion and caution. Divorce should not be entered lightly, for every bond once formed carries a spiritual weight. Yet she reminds us that wholeness is greater than togetherness, and that a home filled with mutual respect, even in separation, is worth more than one filled with fear beneath a shared roof. The true example for children is not an unbroken marriage, but an unbroken spirit — the quiet strength of those who seek healing rather than hollow appearances.

So let this be the teaching passed down: choose peace over pretense, and truth over tradition. Love is sacred only when it uplifts; when it diminishes, it becomes a shadow of itself. To walk away from what harms you is not to abandon love, but to honor it in its truest form — for love, in the end, must always serve life. Teach your children, by your courage, that endings can be beginnings, that even in parting there can be grace, and that the heart, though wounded, is never beyond renewal. For as Jerry Hall reminds us, the end of a marriage is not the end of the world — it is, sometimes, the first breath of a new one.