Second Chances And What’s Still Worth Fighting For

I’ve always believed in second chances. Not because they always work out, not because they’re easy, but because they’re human. They’re messy, brave, and deeply personal. I’ve built my career on the idea that it’s never too late to rewrite one’s story. Whether I’m helping someone find a new career path after a decade of feeling stuck, or sitting in a mediation room with a couple on the verge of divorce, what I’m really doing, at its core, is holding space for people who are asking: Is this really the end or is there something more I haven’t tried yet?

That’s what happened last week. A couple came to me for mediation, ready to end their marriage. Or at least, they thought they were. They were angry. Worn down. Not by one big betrayal, but by years of silence, resentment, and slowly growing apart. They sat far from each other, didn’t make eye contact, and spoke through clenched jaws. I’ve seen it so many times. And honestly, sometimes that distance is too far to bridge. Sometimes mediation is just about helping people end things with respect and clarity.

But this time, something different happened.

It wasn’t dramatic. No grand declarations. In between the arguments and the blame, there was a flicker of something else. A pause. A breath. One of them made a comment about the kids—something small, something ordinary—and for just a second, the other one softened. It was subtle. But I felt it. That crack in the wall they’d both been hiding behind.

And then came a question: “Do you think this is really it?”

And in that moment, it was clear: underneath all the anger, there was still love.

The kind that aches—not with drama, but with history. Built on years of doing life together—of shared holidays, sleepless nights with sick kids, and the quiet way you divide up the morning routine without even thinking. The kind of love that holds the weight of everything you’ve been through, even when it’s buried under frustration. The kind of love that still sees the person you’ve built a life with, even when you’re not sure how to talk to them anymore. The kind that says, “I don’t know how we got here, but I’m not sure I’m ready to walk away yet.”

They didn’t leave my office with a resolution. No decisions were made that day. But they left with something else: space. They agreed to hold off on filing. They agreed to try therapy. They agreed to see if they could rebuild—not the marriage they had before, but something new. Something different. Something honest.

These moments don’t happen every day. And they don’t always lead to reconciliation. But they have happened enough times that I’ve stopped being surprised. And they make me think more deeply about what we’re really up against when it comes to modern relationships.

My husband has this theory he calls “The Amazon Effect,” how we’re conditioned to expect everything instantly. Fast shipping. One-click convenience. No delays. And that mentality has crept into how we approach love. If a relationship feels hard, we assume it’s broken. If we’re not happy all the time, we think we picked the wrong spouse. We want spark without the struggle. But the truth is, everything meaningful requires work.

According to the National Marriage Project, more than 60% of couples who report being unhappy in their marriage but stay together describe themselves as happy five years later. That’s not because their problems disappeared. It’s because they stayed in the fire long enough to learn how to move through it. They got support. They had the hard conversations. They stopped waiting for the other person to change and started asking, what can I do differently?

I think about all the couples I see: some who stay, some who separate, and I’ve realized it’s rarely about the size of the problem. It’s about the willingness to sit in the discomfort. To own your part. To be curious instead of defensive. And to stop trying to win.

Marriage is not a fairy tale. It’s a daily choice. Sometimes it’s choosing to say good morning even when you’re angry. Sometimes it’s choosing to come back to the same conversation for the tenth time because you both care enough to keep trying. And sometimes, it’s choosing to pause the exit—not forever, but long enough to ask yourself: What if there’s still something here worth holding onto?

To be clear: not every marriage can or should be saved. I have seen relationships where one or both partners are no longer willing or feeling safe enough to do the work. And that’s okay too. Sometimes, choosing yourself means walking away. But what I see often are couples who don’t want to end things—they want things to feel different. They want to stop hurting. They want to be seen. And they want to believe they’re not crazy for still loving someone who also drives them absolutely nuts.

So, what does it really mean to “save” a marriage?

It doesn’t mean pretending that everything is fine. It doesn’t mean staying for the kids or avoiding shame. It means asking: Can we rebuild something healthier from here? It means both people being honest, asking for support, and committing to real change, not for who they used to be, but for who they want to become.

At the heart of everything I do, whether in mediation, career coaching, or relationships, is the belief that people are capable of changing. That we are all a little lost sometimes. That second chances aren’t about erasing the past. They’re about writing a new chapter—one that honors the hard parts and still chooses hope.

You don’t need to hold hands and walk off into the sunset. But if there’s still a flicker of something left: love, respect, possibility, then maybe it’s worth staying in the conversation a little longer. n

Tamara Gestetner is a certified mediator, psychotherapist, and life and career coach based in Cedarhurst. She helps individuals and couples navigate relationships, career transitions, and life’s uncertainties with clarity and confidence. Through mediation and coaching, she guides clients in resolving conflicts, making tough decisions, and creating meaningful change. Tamara is now taking questions and would love to hear what’s on your mind—whether it’s about life, career, relationships, or anything in between. She can be reached at 646-239-5686 or via email at [email protected]. Please visit TamaraGestetner.com to learn more.