Is There A Right Way To Tell Your Kids You’re Getting Divorced?
What I wish we’d done differently, and what my kids wish, too.

My husband and I had decided to divorce. That was hard enough. But what came next was even more difficult: telling the kids. We took on the task like soldiers preparing for battle. We sought out an expert to tell us what we knew we didn’t know. A family therapist helped guide our approach and armed us with carefully chosen words. We practiced that script—in drill after drill until we could recite it all in sync. We rallied our allies, readying close friends and family so they could provide support in the aftermath. We chose a Friday night so everyone could focus more easily. And when the excruciating moment finally came, our incredible kids— our daughters, then 13 and 11, and our son, then 7 — absorbed the blow with more strength and resilience than we could have imagined.
So, four years later, when I asked my kids what we did right and wrong that indelible day, I was grateful to hear that they recognized all the effort and thought we put into supporting them. And I was reminded that, even with the best planning and intent, it was a gut-wrenching experience for all of us, and there is no right way to tell your kids you’re divorcing. Every situation is unique, every child is unique. But for almost all children, divorce is a profound loss that goes against everything they expect and know to be true and right in the world. That’s why the conversation is scary and hard and never right even with the best intentions and preparation (I even created a whole guide to help people navigate it). But it’s also why both are mission critical. Commit to putting your children’s well-being first. Set your own conflict as a couple aside and plan your message together. Reassure them that it’s not their fault. Be honest and calm and succinct. And, if you want to make fewer mistakes than I did, consider these four insights from my very wise children:
1. Minimize the time you spend with your kids before you tell them. There’s no good way to say this: The day we told my kids was the worst day of my life. I threw up in Central Park midway through my morning run. (I’ve thrown up only three times in my entire life.) I could barely breathe or think. But when I picked up our son from the second grade, I knew I should at least try to sound upbeat, to express interest in his day. But I didn’t pull it off. He still remembers feeling my energy and knowing something was horribly wrong even before we told the kids anything. The lesson? Try to avoid your kids on the day you tell them if you can. Or do it first thing on a Saturday to limit the time before and still have plenty of time to process the news together.
2. Cut to the chase. As soon as the girls got home from school, we called everyone together for a family meeting, saying we had something very serious to share. I believed our grave tone would help set the right mood, but my older daughter thought our 13-year-old dachshund, Monty, had died. And the other daughter worried that someone was sick. They said the minutes before we told them were worse than the announcement itself. To this day, we can’t say the words “family meeting” without causing utter panic. Tip: Skip the grim lead-up and just tell the kids in a more informal tone that you want to chat. It’s going to hurt but not for as long.
3. Don’t tell your family friends before your kids. In our mission to prepare and then prepare more, we gave the parents of our kids’ closest friends a heads-up about the divorce. We thought this would help control the message and let our kids feel more supported if they sought consolation at their houses. But when they found out we’d done this, they weren’t happy. They said they saw no benefit and hated being the last to know. In hindsight: Encourage your kids to confide in their friends, but don’t try to bring in the parents early. It’s just too messy.
4. Don’t sugarcoat the divorce part. My kids distinctly remember me saying “I hate the word divorce” and then launching into a five-minute monologue about why our separation was more like “conscious uncoupling” and not a typical divorce. It makes me cringe now and I only vaguely remember doing this, but I was undoubtedly trying to make them feel better by focusing on our strong family foundation. It didn’t work. They thought I was trying to minimize a major life shift, to outsmart them. Their recommendation: Divorce is divorce. Be direct, and don’t sugarcoat it.
So what did we do right in the end? My kids appreciate that we told all of them everything at once, and that we used very clear, reassuring language: “We’ll always be a family, and we’ll always put you first.”
Since then, during periods of uncertainty, we make it a point to repeat this message, and we’re both present for birthday dinners, school conferences, sporting events and other moments that matter to them. It helps, of course, that we’re amicably divorced, so we can both reinforce this message often and with sincerity.
Four years later, they also recognize how we work together to make decisions that impact them and set similar rules and boundaries across homes – this is something that has repeatedly been found to be helpful for kids. As a family, we agree that despite the challenge of divorce and some missteps along the way, we all share the same hopeful vision. And all of us, especially the kids, are doing a-OK.
Tamara Frankfort Odinec is the founder of My Next Chapter, a content and community platform that empowers individuals navigating divorce, launching May 2025. Tamara has had a successful career building tech-oriented products that inspire people in new ways. She lives in New York with her three children and is happily divorced.