Last night in Bangkok, I had the chance to watch a live Muay Thai fight—a deeply rooted tradition in Thai culture and a spectacle of the skill, strength, and intense mutual respect of the two fighters. The energy in the stadium, and the crowd’s excitement were palpable.
Yet, when I turned to my wife and asked her what she thought of the fight, her response was jarring. She said it was hard for her to watch two professionals paid to hurt each other while everyone watched and judges graded them.
After the fight, I reflected on her words.
A thought crossed my mind: there is a powerful parallel between the physical violence of the Muay Thai ring and the emotional violence in divorce court. The parallels became even clearer when I considered that the fighters move from mutual respect to combat and the similarity of the bitter battles between spouses who were once lovers going through a divorce. Both involve individuals who were once a team, who fought for common goals, created a life together, and supported each other. Yet, in both the ring and the courtroom, they end up facing each other as adversaries, with personal and often painful consequences.
In Muay Thai, fighters begin by showing respect to each other before the match starts, a mutual acknowledgment of the other’s skill and strength. But once the bell rings, the fight is on. What follows is a display of skill, strategy, and a lot of pain. The audience watches as one fighter delivers a blow, the other retaliates, and both face an onslaught of pain and bruising, emotionally and physically.
Similarly, in a marriage, a couple may start out united—dating, getting engaged, marrying, building a family, and accumulating wealth together. The shared dreams of the future are what bring them together, but over time, tensions may mount. Personal differences, unmet needs, or changing life circumstances can create an irreparable rift. The transition from a partnership to adversaries can be as jarring as the sudden shift from respect to conflict in a Muay Thai fight. Like a fighter who is trained to withstand pain, spouses must endure the emotional and financial toll that a divorce often inflicts.
Muay Thai fights are performed in front of an audience—thousands of eyes on the fighters, watching them duke it out in a public spectacle. It’s a culture where pain and struggle are displayed for all to see. While the crowd might cheer, their enthusiasm masks the deeper reality: the fighters are being physically harmed, and the damage is real. The coaches are yelling advice to their fighters pointing out the other fighter’s vulnerabilities. Judges are paid to measure the amount of damage each does to the other.
Divorce, too, plays out in a public forum, though the stakes are far more personal. Divorce court, much like a Muay Thai match, becomes a stage where two people who once cared deeply for one another are now fighting bitterly, often with accusations, allegations, and threats being made against one another in front of lawyers, judges, and court staff. The courtroom, much like the arena, becomes a space where personal vulnerabilities are exposed and dissected. Judges are paid to grade the performance, blow by blow, and declare a winner and loser. And while the divorce might be a deeply private matter, the public nature of the legal system means that there are witnesses—lawyers, judges, and sometimes even the public—who may read all about it online including all the intimate details.
Just as my wife instinctively turned her head away from the brutality of the fight, most feel uncomfortable witnessing the struggles of their family and friends going through divorce. The very public nature of a fight in court, with its ugly accusations and the shattering of personal reputations, often prompts others to look away, avoid the scene, or try to minimize the pain.
Divorce is not just a legal matter; it is a personal, emotional, and psychological battle. The same way my wife couldn’t bear to see someone hurt for entertainment, many people would prefer not to confront the raw emotions and devastation that come with a divorce. It’s difficult to watch someone—whether it’s a fighter or a separating spouse—go through such pain, especially when that pain is on display for all to see. But that is exactly what happens in both arenas.
In both the aftermath of a Muay Thai fight and a contentious divorce, the wounds don’t disappear the moment the fight ends or the court decision is rendered. In the ring, the bruises are visible—the cuts, the swelling, the limping. But even off the mat, the psychological scars can linger for a long time, and fighters often struggle with the aftermath of their physical and emotional battles.
In a divorce, the scars are similarly profound. Even after the legal battles end, the emotional damage often persists. For some, the sense of betrayal, resentment, and anger can stay with them long after the final judgment. The family unit has been broken apart, the shared assets divided, and the emotional toll often leaves long-lasting effects on both the individuals involved and their children – after the judges, lawyers and public stopped watching.
My experience in Bangkok reminded me that there are many ways in which people endure struggle, pain, and emotional upheaval. Whether in a Muay Thai fight or a divorce, these struggles aren’t easy to watch, and they often leave deep, lingering effects on everyone involved. As my wife said, it was hard to watch someone get hurt in front of so many people—and that’s something that’s often true when it comes to divorce as well.
The painful truth is that, whether in the ring or in the courtroom, both fighters and spouses often find themselves exposed, vulnerable, and hurting, with a crowd of onlookers that may or may not understand the emotional weight of the battle. In the end, there’s no real winner. Everyone bears the scars of the fight, and the hope is that, through time and reflection, healing can begin—just as a fighter must recover and rebuild after the bruising match. But for many, that journey toward healing is a long one, and it’s something they must face on their own, after the final bell rings.
Editorial note: Originally shared in 2024; reprinted here for our readers.
Steve Benmor, B.Sc., LL.B., LL.M. (Family Law), C.S., Cert.F.Med., C.Arb., FDRP PC, is the founder and principal lawyer of Benmor Family Law Group, a boutique matrimonial law firm in downtown Toronto. He is a Certified Specialist in Family Law, a Certified Specialist in Parenting Coordination and was admitted as a Fellow to the prestigious International Academy of Family Lawyers. Steve is regularly retained as a Divorce Mediator/Arbitrator and Parenting Coordinator. Steve uses his 30 years of in-depth knowledge of family law, court-room experience and expert problem-solving skills in Divorce Mediation/Arbitration to help spouses reach fair, fast and cooperative divorce settlements without the financial losses, emotional costs and lengthy delays from divorce court.
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