Sorry, I don't buy the "it's all about perspective" thing in the slightest -- talk about relativism. Perspectives are like a**holes -- everybody's got one. That doesn't mean they're all valid, nor does it mean they all have to be given their "due."
So it might be "true," but from my point-of-view it's also completely irrelevant (just as from someone else's point-of-view my perspective might well be irrelevant). But I live in accordance with my own lights -- I respect others' right to opinions or perspectives, but there's nothing in that contract that says I have to honor or respect those opinions or perspectives.
Indeed, if it were anything other than irrelevant, we'd all be wasting our time other places on the Internets Tubes, because every Left-Behind in the world would simply have to say,
"Well golly gee-whillikers, I sure hate losing my marriage, but what the hell, it's her/his perspective -- just as valid as mine. Here I thought I was being a good husband/wife, fulfilling my responsibilities, taking care of the home/finances/children, and here s/he was thinking I'm a useless unattractive worthless piece of sh*t. What are you going to do? It's all a matter of perspective -- for all I know, maybe I am a useless unattractive worthless piece of sh*t, don't want to rush to any conclusions. My perspective was 'until death do us part,' his/her perspective was 'until it's no longer convenient.' That's a perfectly valid perspective -- gosh, I'd better respect it."
Here's an excerpt from interesting perspective, posted at The Daily Beast (full story) by Beverly Willet ("My Fight To Stop My Divorce"):
After a lengthy trial, the judge dismissed all of my husband’s charges. But he was still determined. He moved across the Hudson River to New Jersey to establish residency. Within a year’s time of living there, he would be allowed to sue me again under that state’s no-fault law. Without the funds to keep fighting what was now the inevitable, I gave in. A year later, we had a second trial on financials, and our property was divided. When our divorce became final, my husband and I had been married for over a quarter of a century.
Last Sunday, I read that Governor Paterson had signed a bill making New York the fiftieth and final state in the country to enact no-fault divorce. I was heartsick. We would never stand for arranged marriages, so why do we tolerate unilateral divorce, where the power rests in one person's hands to vote on behalf of the whole family? [emphasis added]
If no-fault is good, why do we have the highest divorce rate of any Western nation? Why is the divorce rate for second marriages even higher? Studies show most “unhappy” marriages ride out the storm. No-fault removes that option.
There are practical reasons against no-fault, too. Divorce reduces life-span. No-fault won’t end litigation either, just shape-shift it as the litigation instead focuses on economics. And women and children are worse off financially after divorce, as they always have been, even those finally able to extricate themselves from domestic abuse. ... No-fault assumes that removing choice from the equation will lead to less acrimony, but that’s too simplistic. It assumes the only reason parties would ever hold up a divorce is to angle for money. It tosses aside the notion that one might want to stay married because of one’s pledge, or for the sake of the children. [emphasis added]
Since 1970, approximately one million children a year have watched their parents divorce and their way of family life disappear. Children of divorce are more likely to divorce themselves, and divorce produces other negative consequences as well – more juvenile delinquency, aggression, teen pregnancy, depression, learning difficulties – not the least of which is the loss of childhood and parents and children losing precious time together. “The best interests of the child” governs in child custody, yet no-fault divorce does not serve that end.
The fact of the matter is that when couples have children you all become inextricably intertwined. I always pictured my husband and I turning to each other as we applauded our daughters in their school plays, and sitting in the car, tearful, after dropping our eldest off at college. It’s nearly eight years since my husband left, and I still have trouble opening the family photo albums. But I’ve had to move on. There are more pressing problems like finding a job and health insurance when my costly COBRA runs out in about a year.
