Backstage Pass

by Paul Stanley

  Being at Evan’s bar mitzvah was joyous; so is having an Easter egg hunt or going to Christmas Mass with the family. Again, that’s who we are. We are all of those things.

  Before we go to bed every night we say prayers. Some nights the kids pray to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and some nights they don’t. But no matter what they pray, they acknowledge God, and they have the sense that nobody can know what is right or wrong; we can only acknowledge and celebrate our lives.

  If religion teaches kindness and charity and understanding and acceptance, then it’s good.

  For religion to survive, it must change and reflect the times; religions should be living, breathing things. Knowing right from wrong, treating people the way we ourselves want to be treated, doing good because that’s what God wants—those are timeless ideas. I know Catholics who don’t adhere perfectly to the dictates of their faith—they practice birth control, for instance—and I believe that for a religion to work it has to be realistic and applicable to our lives. Now some might say the opposite—that one’s life has to conform to religion. But I don’t agree. For instance, some sects of Judaism say that children are Jewish only if the mother is Jewish. Well, I say bullshit. I’m Jewish, and if I’m Jewish, then my child is Jewish. Whether or not everyone agrees with that is irrelevant. When you embrace who you are with pride and without excuse, you dignify who you are.

  The way Erin and I deal with religion is just one key to the success of our relationship: if something bothers or annoys one of us, we want it out in the open. Otherwise, things snowball, and at some point we don’t even remember how the avalanche started. The way to keep that from happening is to address it before anything accumulates. If something bothers you, let the other person know how you feel. That way, maybe you don’t need the root canal, because the rot never sets in. It’s preventive dentistry.

  People go to therapy because decay has set in. Maybe in a lot of instances in relationships we can avoid that decay by brushing after every meal, by flossing—by addressing things before they give way to rot.

  Of course, sometimes we may come up against situations where the other person doesn’t want to do that. Then we have to make a decision. Because we can’t change other people. There’s no point in spending time thinking, “If only they would do this” or “Why are they doing that?” At some point it boils down to, “Why am I allowing this? Why am I going along with this? Why am I here?”

  That’s what we all have to come to terms with. Why are we here? Is it beneficial to be here? What are we getting out of it? When somebody won’t acknowledge or address something, then the rest is up to us. The way something affects us has more to do with ourselves than with the other person. The way somebody’s behavior affects us is all about us. We are the ones who decide how it affects us and what we do. Either we find a way to make a relationship work for us, or we leave. But we don’t try to change the other person. We can only change how we take in and respond to their behavior.

  Listen, I’m not Gandhi, but I bear no animosity toward people who have wronged me or misled me or been dishonest with me. They’re just gone. They’re no longer a part of my life. It’s part of the imperfection of life and how we deal with it.

  When we’ve been hurt, we’re often motivated by vengeance, by getting back at somebody. But the thing is, when we’re happy, we don’t need to make anyone else miserable. We don’t want to replicate what somebody did to us. We realize at some point when we’re happy that creating misery never creates happiness, especially through revenge. Never. Revenge is ugly. It only puts us in an ugly place doing something ugly.

  10

  Strive to Raise the Bar, Not to Lower It

  When I got divorced from my first wife in the early 2000s, I felt an overwhelming sense of failure. I had certainly never imagined getting divorced—probably because my parents never divorced, despite their unhappiness.

  How do we define love? We are tempted to define it on the basis of what we saw at home. And the turmoil I saw growing up was in some ways mirrored or replicated in my first marriage. It almost seemed the norm. Even though I thought I was going in the opposite direction from my parents, I ended up walking into similar dynamics—into uncertainty, lack of support, tension, all the things that I’d faced when I was a kid. And somehow I thought I could make it work because I could make everything work. Well, I couldn’t. The only person I had control over was me, and my control just meant that I endured the marriage. My first wife and I were just the wrong people at the wrong time.

  Even so, the idea of divorce was terrifying. But when a relationship isn’t good, it has to end.

  It’s too easy to blame the other person, just like it’s too easy and completely absurd when people say they’re not lucky in love. The first thing we have to do is accept responsibility. When children are involved, it’s important for all parties to agree that the children won’t become collateral damage, that they won’t become pawns, and that they won’t be used as a threat. For some reason, some people have a lot of difficulty agreeing on that.

  As for why my marriage failed, the fact that I chose who I chose was a clear sign that I had a lot to figure out. The nature of our relationships is a great indication of where we are in our lives. Who we choose is a pretty good mirror of our state of mind. Hence, sixteen wonderful years with Erin, and the only uncertainty is what great things lie ahead.

  As I’ve said before, we all must realize that the only person we can change is ourselves. Knowing this allows us to be much more powerful, because we use our true powers as opposed to imagined ones. All my missteps led me to the clarity I had when I met Erin, proving that my true strength comes from being able to change myself and not waste effort on trying to change others. The fact that my prior relationships didn’t work shows that I was confused and still believed that I had the power to make things the way I wanted them to be. And because I felt I had that power—I had, after all, achieved all my professional dreams—I hadn’t yet learned that I didn’t have the power to make other people do what I wanted them to do.

  In the wake of my divorce, trying to protect Evan quickly became my priority. I chose to spend virtually all the time when he was with me one-on-one, just the two of us—to protect him, to calm him, and to let him know that I was there 100 percent. Bringing another woman into our circle, let alone our house, would have been an assault on his security, and more confusing and more of a threat than anything he needed to deal with.

  Of course, the lines of communication need to stay open between separated couples. We must be able to voice concern over parenting methods or actions that we may find questionable or detrimental—though children should never be confronted with whatever fighting goes on. Who’s right and wrong should take a back seat to what’s best for the children, and one thing that’s for sure best for any child is for the parents not to bad-mouth each other. That should be forbidden—for the sake of the child.

  It’s baffling to me that people are willing to hurt their children by saying bad things about their children’s other parent or by not being supportive. I certainly had disagreements with my ex after the divorce, just as we had disagreements when we were together, but we were determined to make this process as safe and comfortable for Evan as possible and acknowledge how difficult and awful this was for us and for him. We assured him that we would get through it and that no one was to blame.

  It boggles my mind when I see people criticizing their ex in front of their children. On top of the insensitivity, anyone who does that is denigrating a child’s parent. It’s frightening, it’s confusing, and it potentially puts the child in the horrible position of having to take sides. During a divorce, the last thing that should happen is an innocent child being put in the line of fire or used as a tool or a pawn. In the very worst-case scenario—and mine fortunately was not that—it comes down to this: Do you hate your ex more than you love your child? It’s that simple. Stop with the rhetoric, stop with all the machinations, and which is
the stronger feeling? Your love and desire to protect your child, or your ill feelings toward your ex?

  If estranged parents can put aside the acrimony and hostility for the sake of their child, I highly recommend their seeing a therapist. Not because it’s court ordered or because they have to, but because they should respect their partner’s concerns; and perhaps bringing in a qualified intermediary will allow them to pick a course of action that is in the best interests of their child, even if they may not necessarily agree with it.

  Involving therapists or going to counseling is not a move of desperation or weakness. It can be productive and constructive. You put aside the fact that you’re not together and not getting along, and you concern yourselves solely with the best way to handle this process for your child. You want to protect your child, and if your biggest concern is truly that child, then seeking an outside voice can be a great help. It shouldn’t be a tool used to punish an ex. Again, do you love your child more than you dislike your ex? It’s always important to take the high road—if for no other reason than to demonstrate empathy to your children. You don’t need to point anything else out in terms of your parenting versus someone else’s, because when your kids get older, they’ll figure it out on their own. To put poison in their ears or to speak poorly about their other parent is counterproductive, because the child loves both parents.

  I can’t pass judgment on parents who remove themselves from their child’s life or poison or pollute their life because of a divorce or separation, but I can say that’s not what being a parent is in my mind. When my children suffer, I want to protect them. When my children are scared, I want to soothe them. When my children are sad, I want to either cheer them up or listen to them. I want to validate my children. Many times, that’s all they need: to be heard. A child should not end up being collateral damage.

  When we break the foundation under our children by saying that Mommy and Daddy are no longer going to be together, that is inconceivable to them. From the day they were born, Mom and Dad had been not only their foundation but their world. Yet now that’s going to break. I saw with Evan how terrifying and incomprehensible this process was to him. My role had to be to protect him, to be there for him, and to get him through it.

  There’s a lesson to be learned—that things can be terrible but we can get through them. Not easily, and not without pain, and not without acknowledging the pain. But we can get through them.

  Evan is the poster child for divorce. He’s done great. He can’t imagine his mom and dad being together, and in his own way he figured out the dynamics between us and why we’re not together. When he’s had graduations or other milestones, we’ve celebrated as a family unit and, when appropriate, with Erin and his brother and sisters. And make no mistake, Erin—without ever posing a threat to the relationship between me and Evan—became a key factor in his seeing the dynamics of a healthy relationship and how we all can come through the worst upheavals to a better place than where we started.

  This was another case of our experiences defining who we are. It was so clear to me what my childhood lacked, and I was determined—despite divorce or anything else—to provide that for my children. We all can realize and reaffirm in countless ways what our lives are about and what our active participation should be.

  11

  Understand the Why and Struggle Less with the Why Not

  In one form or another, we’re all addicts. We just pick our poison. Sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll? Those options are all still available. While I never thought the drugs were part of the equation, the other two went hand in hand. As life moves on, though, changes and choices need to be made. Rock ’n’ roll remains. But for me, marriage and monogamy also go hand in hand. So I made a choice, and that was to be with Erin and only Erin.

  To live with our choices and not struggle with them over time, we have to be clear on why we made them.

  My decisions have to be rational, well thought out, and based on how a change will affect me. In committing to be faithful to Erin, I considered not only how it would affect my life if it came out that I betrayed that commitment to her, but also the personal burden of carrying that dishonesty even if she never found out.

  Somebody once asked me about monogamy, and I said that it’s something people have to decide for themselves. But part of that choice is what I just said about living with knowing that I’ve been dishonest. Someone else would be privy to the secret other than me. And if someone else is privy to something, then no doubt other people will be as well, because there are no secrets. If I don’t want people to know about my doing something, I don’t do it, because most things get out. And even if it didn’t get out, I would torture myself about it. For me, there’s no room for dishonesty in my relationship. Women are still as beautiful as ever, probably as available as ever, but I will take a pass.

  If we see somebody who’s appealing or attractive and enticing on any level, it’s important to think, Wait a minute. I have X amount of years with my partner and can depend on that person to continue to build something together. Why would we gamble on what’s behind Door Number One when we’ve already won the grand prize?

  At this point in my life, it’s clear to me that what I have is a gift. I will not jeopardize that gift for a momentary situation. I weigh what I have versus what I had in the past, and as much fun as it was back then, none of it had the depth or held the rewards that my life now gives me. Somebody once said to me, “I’m married, I’m not dead.” That applies. But to make things work, we have to make conscious decisions and know the value of what we have. Not knowing why we’re doing something makes it much harder to understand its value. Craving or attraction will always be there, but if I gave in to it, I would lose more than I would gain. It’s certainly important to feel attractive too, but knowing you’re attractive to the person you truly love and admire should always make you feel like the best-looking person in the room. For so much of my life, attraction led without any hesitation to sex. That was the natural rhythm of things—no pun intended. It was just the natural flow of events. But that has changed. One no longer leads to the other.

  It’s great to be able to proudly show people photos of my family and know this is what I have.

  So for me, the struggle isn’t so much of a struggle, because I tend to be very pragmatic. And weighing the pluses and minuses, it’s a no-brainer. That may not negate the attraction on some level, but it makes the idea of following through on that attraction out of the question. Certain women probably think I’m either stupid or gay. Actually I’m neither, but I’m definitely happy.

  Now I acknowledge the attraction and someone desiring me, but it doesn’t go beyond that. Though again, I understand why. Otherwise, it would be much harder to say no—in fact, there would be no reason not to follow through. We need to be clear on why we’re doing or not doing something. If we don’t know why we’re not accepting advances or proposals, then maybe we should just go ahead.

  Every choice in life is much easier to make when we know why we’re making it, but that’s lost on a lot of people. Decisions become easier when we understand the pros and cons and the consequences of doing one thing or another. So, to be honest, I don’t find it difficult to say no, despite sometimes being faced with some real interesting opportunities. But would I like myself if I said yes? No.

  On all different levels, in all different situations, we have to know the reasoning behind our decisions. I don’t ever want to reach a point in my life when I have regrets about what I didn’t do. And yet there are plenty of things I haven’t done. The key is that I know why I didn’t do them. And thus I know why the decision is not regrettable.

  When any of my relationships has been in trouble, it’s always been important to me to know why it was in trouble. And if and when it came to an end, it was important to me to know how I participated in it falling apart. In previous relationships, there were moments when I considered getting involved with somebody else and I thought, No, I have to end
this first. Because I wanted to be clear about why that relationship wasn’t working, and I didn’t want it to be because I had been dishonest or had cheated.

  By the same token, these days I always tell Erin when we run into women I know—in all different senses—from my past. It’s important that nobody ever has a secret with me that she’s not privy to. She certainly knows my past. I’m a big believer that the fewer secrets we have, the freer we are. That’s pretty much always been the way I approach things, but particularly with Erin, the idea of not acknowledging that somebody in the room is somebody I’ve known or that somebody she’s talking to is somebody I’ve been involved with is far more uncomfortable for me than telling her. Likewise, Erin is beautiful, outgoing, and extremely bright, so for me to believe that her life began the day we met would make me an idiot.

  I never thought life would end up like this, but it makes sense. I never knew things would be like this because I had to take the steps to get here, and each step made it more possible. I couldn’t have fathomed the calm and satisfaction I have because that’s not who I was. We learn as we go. We have to know what we don’t want and understand what we were wrong about before we can know what we do want. I’m blessed because I have been able to find out what I was wrong about.

  The mistake I made in many previous relationships was that I went into them looking for approval more than anything else. I looked for somebody who would pump me up and boost me. And that’s not grounds for a relationship—especially when I often didn’t even get the approval I had been looking for.

  I can argue that I had not yet realized that ceding some control is part of having a relationship. In the case of my first marriage, that was in part because it coincided exactly with the time when I was forced to do the opposite inside the band—I had to consolidate control in the band for the sake of its survival.