She called to apologize and left me this message: Forgive my miserable behavior. It was my evil twin, Skippy, talking.
I smiled, remembering a bit of wisdom often spoken by my husband: No one ever sees themselves as evil.
Earlier that day, Jenny, a mediation client, had unleashed angry accusations at her partner. Now, on reflection, she assigned them to her imaginary evil twin, Skippy.
Jenny and Bruce had lived together for ten years and then, sad but amiable, decided to go their separate ways. Both were previously divorced and were raising teenagers when they first came together and blended their families. They’d come to mediation to design an agreement for an equitable parting.
Legal ramifications of their decision were few, for despite large numbers of couples living together today, unmarried, few laws govern their separations. They spoke of honoring their past contributions to the years spent together, and hoped to maintain the close parental relationships each had formed with the other's children, now grown.
Not surprisingly, as their negotiation began they soon discovered they had begun mediation with different expectations. Although they shared the goal of seeking a fair outcome, each defined "fair" in accord with standards they did not share.
When they first got together, both had been salaried employees. Bruce, with a far greater income, paid the mortgage and most of the day-to-day household expenses. Jenny, subsidized by Bruce's steady support, decided to start her own business, which over time became a consuming passion.
The early years were lean, but Bruce's generous loan of $50,000 for her start-up capital, had since been fully repaid. Now her earnings were significantly greater than his. Six employees had been hired, and overtures were being made for purchase of the company.
The matter under discussion when the evil twin, Skippy, intervened, was Bruce's belief that he should share in the value or ownership of Jenny's business. He maintained that his emotional support, financial investment and advice had been crucial to her success. Shocked by this request, Jenny disparaged the worth of his contribution. Their discussion became heated, Jenny accusatory. In essence:
Jenny:This is sheer greed on your part!
Bruce: But for me, you would never have made it.
And on and on. They left my office angry and upset.
I returned Jenny's earlier phone call. Calmer now, she again expressed regret. I asked if she could consider that Bruce did not speak as a greedy evildoer, but from good intention, even if from her perspective, mistaken? Could she quell her anxiety about the perceived assault on her venture, her very independence?
She told me she was aware that if they had married, Bruce's entitlement to share in the value of her business would have been his legal right. So, I posed: was that a public policy worth taking into account, even if she was not legally bound to do so? And most important, what actions would best meet their shared long-term goal of continued family friendships?
Accepting that no one perceives themselves as evil, calls for an important shift in perspective, the offer of a measure of respect for the other's point of view. While this won't present immediate solutions, the development of settlement options becomes possible.
If Skippy can be kept at bay.