
Kathleen Turner rose to fame in the 1980s with her strength and attractiveness – many consider her one of the most beautiful actresses in Hollywood.
It is this fortitude that has helped her through the many goods and bad times the actress has experienced over the years.

Kathleen Turner had a rough childhood and was raised in a family with four children. She and her siblings grew up in London and Venezuela. Tragedy befell her at a young age when her father unexpectedly passed away while mowing the lawn of their Hampstead home.
A month after his death, Kathleen and her family were kicked out of the UK by the foreign service. Turner and her family settled in Springfield, Missouri, all still grieving their father and former home.
As an adult, Tuner finally found peace after moving to New York to pursue an acting career. She had some luck on the stage – but her biggest break came when she was given the role of the femme fatale in 1981’s “Body Heat.”

Three years after starring next to William Hurt, Turner was given a chance to co-star with Michael Douglas in the famous “Romancing the Stone.” Douglas was in a rocky separation from his wife Diandra at the time of filming, and he and Turner developed some feelings for each other.
“We were in the process of falling in love – fervent, longing looks and heavy flirtation. Then Diandra came down and reminded me he was still married,” Kathleen said.
She eventually married the property developer from the film, Jay Weiss, in 1984. The two had their only daughter together soon after. Rachel Ann Weiss was born on October 14, 1987.

Unfortunately, the couple’s relationship began to fracture as they started raising their daughter.
“I’d make the movie companies give me long weekends or provide extra tickets so my daughter and husband could come to me. But there was a sense in the marriage the effort was all on his side, which made me feel guilty. It was one of the reasons it ended. I started to feel very oppressed. I thought, ‘Hang on a minute, you’ve done very well out of being married to me also,’” Kathleen explained.
In 2005, Turner starred as Martha in the Broadway revival of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” and it was then that their marital problems came to a head. Turner became incredibly busy while acting in eight shows a week, and it appeared that Weiss wanted no time with her when she was home.
The two divorced amicably during that time, and Turner earned a Tony award nod for her time as Martha.
The star had also earned an Oscar nomination back in 1987 for her role in “Peggy Sue Got Married.” Her film career was alive and well during the 80’s, and she starred in a variety of blockbusters–three of which were with Michael Douglas.

However, in the 90’s, Kathleen experienced a medical setback when her neck locked, not allowing her to turn her head. In addition, her hands swelled to the point where she stopped being able to use them.
“It was crippling,” Kathleen said. “You stop taking things for granted when you lose them, even temporarily. What I took for granted – my athleticism, my ability to throw myself around, and just be able to move however I wanted to. When I lost that, that was a real crisis of self: who am I if I cannot do this?”
The culprit of her misfortune wound up being rheumatoid arthritis, a condition characterized by the swelling of the lining in our joints. This condition causes chronic pain that can be difficult to manage.

“When it was first diagnosed, I was terrified because they said I’d be in a wheelchair,” Kathleen explained. “I thought, ‘If I can’t move, I can’t act.’ Acting isn’t just what I want to do. I was born to do it. It’s at every point of my living. The idea of not being able to do it was the most frightening part – that and the constant pain.”
Kathleen turned to pills and alcohol to manage her pain. While these helped her to work, the habit of drinking vodka led to her passing out during rehearsals for shows like 2002’s stage production of “The Graduate.”
The actress actually went to rehab after the show stopped running, only to find out that she was not an alcoholic. Instead, she was told she simply needed to better track when she was taking her medications and their side effects.

Today, the actress does yoga and pilates to help manage the pain and remain nimble.
While better managing her pain, the star really began to focus on her stage career. While she did still occasionally work in film and television, she returned largely to her roots as she got older, even starring in “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” on stage in her forties.
“Because I knew that the better roles as I got older would be in theatre, which is absolutely true, so that was a little foresight on my part of which I am justly proud,” Kathleen said.s

Focusing on theatre has also allowed the star the time to focus on her passions of hers, such as volunteering at Amnesty International and working for Planned Parenthood of America.
A staunch feminist for most of her life, Turner has turned her doubtless strength to uplifting other women throughout her life. Her ideologies are represented clearly in Gloria Feldt’s 2008 memoir of the star, Send Yourself Roses.
“We are the first generation of women who are financially independent. Women are going back to work,” Kathleen said. “They’re reinventing themselves. I thought I could support that, even increase that. So it has got a lot of philosophy in it and a lot of my beliefs.”

‘You’re Just a Babysitter, Not a Real Man,’ My Wife Said Before Leaving Me with Three Kids — Story of the Day

I thought I had it all—a loving wife, three amazing kids, and a life we built together. But the night I followed her to that party, everything I believed in came crashing down.
My day always started with the familiar symphony of chaos. Timmy’s sharp cries came from his crib. Kevin crashed his toy cars together on the carpet, making explosion sounds. Meanwhile, Emma stood in front of me.
“Daddy, I have to wear my pink dress today. Everyone will love it. It’s the most amazing dress ever!”

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I nodded as I tied her hair into a neat bow.
“Of course, sweetheart. Everyone will be impressed.”
The warm, sweet aroma of chocolate cookies wafted from the kitchen. My cookies were my signature, baked and ready for the kids’ lunch snack. While the oven did its job, I focused on stitching the last piece of Kevin’s dinosaur costume.
“This has to be the coolest dino ever, Dad!” Kevin said, leaning over the table to inspect my work.

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“It will be, buddy,” I reassured him. “Just you wait.”
In the background, a soft audiobook played. It wasn’t much, just something to keep the kids entertained. Those moments brought me peace. They reminded me that no matter how much life had changed, I still had something to hold on to.
But it hadn’t always been that way.

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I used to run a successful business. Long days and nights of hard work allowed Angela and me to buy this house and pay for her law school. She had dreams, big ones, and I wanted to make them come true.
When Emma was born, she asked me to stay home temporarily so she could finish her internship. I agreed, thinking it was just for a little while. Then Kevin came along, and Angela’s career took off.
“I’ll handle the house and kids,” I told her. “You focus on work.”

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Angela didn’t even take maternity leave with Kevin, rushing back to work just two months after giving birth. Promotion after promotion followed, and her time at home dwindled to nothing.
I became the one who fed the kids, read parenting books, and even baked birthday cakes. I didn’t mind. I was proud of how capable I’d become.
That afternoon, as I stitched the last seam of Kevin’s costume, Angela came home earlier than usual. She didn’t greet me or the kids. Instead, she rushed to the bedroom.

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A few minutes later, she appeared in the hallway, transformed. Her black dress hugged her figure perfectly, and her red lipstick glistened under the light. She looked stunning.
“There’s a work party tonight. I need to be there,” she said, adjusting her earrings.
“A work party?” I asked. “You didn’t mention anything. I could’ve gone with you.”
“It’s late. It’s for work. You wouldn’t enjoy it.”

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I stood there, watching her leave without a backward glance. For a moment, an idea sparked.
I grabbed the phone and dialed our neighbor, Mrs. Graham.
“Hi, could you watch the kids for a couple of hours tonight?”
With her agreement, I turned off the oven, slipped into my best shirt, and grabbed a bouquet of Angela’s favorite lilies.
“Tonight,” I murmured, “I’ll remind her of what we used to have.”

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***
The party was alive with energy when I stepped into the venue. The music pulsed through the air, and the room shimmered with expensive fabrics and sparkling jewelry. I felt a little out of place in my simple shirt and slacks, clutching a bouquet of lilies like a lovesick teenager.
As my eyes scanned the crowd, they landed on Angela. She was on stage, the center of attention. She looked breathtaking like someone who had just walked off the cover of a glossy magazine.

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I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as I listened to her speech. Her words flowed effortlessly, and the audience hung onto every sentence.
My wife is brilliant. My Angela. How did I get so lucky?
I adjusted my grip on the lilies, imagining her smile after getting them.

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Her speech ended with thunderous applause. But before I could step forward, another man appeared beside her. He handed her a massive bouquet of orchids, the kind I could never afford.
Then, he hugged her. The lilies nearly slipped from my hands.
Angela’s face lit up, but not with the smile she gave me. This was warm and intimate.

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The room blurred around me as I followed them through the crowd, staying just far enough behind to avoid being noticed. They stopped near the exit. I heard her voice, clear and sharp:
“Just a little longer, and we won’t have to hide. I’m filing for divorce soon.”
My legs trembled, but I forced myself to step forward. I held out the flowers silently. Angela’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say a word. Without looking back, I turned and walked away.

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***
Angela had become someone I barely recognized. The kind, ambitious woman I once adored had transformed into someone cold and cynical. Her sharp words still echoed in my mind.
“I don’t love you anymore,” she said after that evening.
“You’re nothing more than a babysitter, not a real man.”
The disdain in her eyes cut deeper than I cared to admit. She stood in the middle of the living room, listing her demands as though reading off a shopping list.

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“I’ll take the house, the car, and all the savings. I’ll leave you with the most precious thing. The kids.”
It wasn’t an act of love. Angela didn’t want them.
The divorce dragged on, a cold and transactional process. There were no heartfelt talks, no apologies. I braced myself for the worst, but in the end, the court sided with me. I was granted custody of the children and ownership of the house.
It felt like a small victory in a losing battle.

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But from that moment, everything depended on me. I had to find a job, provide for my kids, and figure out how to rebuild a life that had been shattered.
After years as a stay-at-home dad, the job market felt foreign and intimidating.
***
One morning, as I dropped Kevin off at preschool, I stood by the classroom door, watching him run to his friends. A familiar voice pulled me from my thoughts.
“Hi, Andrew.” It was Jennifer.

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She was both one of the single moms in Kevin’s class and a teacher there, someone I’d exchanged polite hellos with but didn’t know well.
“We’re looking for a teaching assistant at the preschool,” she continued. “Maybe it’s exactly what you need right now.”
Her words surprised me. Teaching assistant? I hadn’t considered anything like that.
“Do you think they’d even consider me?” I asked, doubt creeping into my voice.

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“Of course. You’re already great with the kids. Why not make it official?”
I decided to apply, and within weeks, I started working at the preschool. It wasn’t a permanent job, but it gave me enough income to cover our needs. It also came with free extracurricular activities for the kids and more time to be with them.
***
A few months later, Kevin and Emma were performing in a class play. I stood in the crowd, clapping proudly as my children took their bows.

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Then, I spotted Angela in the audience. She never attended preschool events, and her presence sent a wave of unease through me. After the performance, she approached me, her smile too wide to be genuine.
“Let’s talk,” she said sweetly. “I’ve been thinking… maybe we should give our family another chance.”
I froze. Her tone was off and calculated. It didn’t take long to understand why. Her new boyfriend had left her, and her business was struggling. She didn’t want me. She wanted the stability I provided.
“I can’t do this,” I said firmly. “You’re welcome to see the kids, but we’re not a family anymore.”

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Her expression changed instantly. The sugary facade melted away, replaced by cold anger.
“If you think you can just refuse me, you’re wrong,” she hissed. “I’ll take the kids. You don’t even have a stable job. The court will rule in my favor.”
Her words weren’t about love or parenting. They were about control. Angela didn’t care about the kids. She just wanted to win.
The stakes were higher than ever, and I couldn’t afford to lose.

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***
The weeks that followed were some of the most stressful of my life. Angela’s legal threats hung over me like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over every moment. I couldn’t sleep without her words echoing in my mind.
“I’ll take the kids. The court will side with me.”
It wasn’t just a threat. It was a battle cry, one I couldn’t afford to ignore.
Jennifer quickly became my lifeline. She was always there, whether it was to listen, offer advice, or bring me coffee when I looked ready to collapse.

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“You’ve been the primary caregiver for years,” she said one evening as we sat in my living room, surrounded by stacks of paperwork. “No court would take the kids away from you. We just need to prove it.”
Her words gave me hope, but I knew hope alone wouldn’t win this fight. Together, we worked tirelessly to gather evidence.
We found photos—birthday parties, preschool events, and everyday moments that showed me at the center of my kids’ lives. Jennifer helped collect testimonials from neighbors, teachers, and even the preschool principal, who agreed to write a letter explaining how involved I was in my children’s lives.

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The day of the court hearing arrived, Angela was already there, dressed in a sleek designer suit. As the hearing began, Angela’s lawyer argued that her financial stability ensured a better future for the children. But when the judge asked about her role in their lives, she faltered, and her polished facade cracked.
Our evidence spoke louder than her words. The ruling came down in my favor. Full custody was mine, while Angela was granted visitation rights.

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Outside, Jennifer was waiting for me. She smiled and hugged me tightly. “I told you we’d figure it out!”
Life didn’t magically return to normal after that. I continued working at the preschool, and with Jennifer’s encouragement, I enrolled in evening courses to become a certified teacher.
As the days turned into weeks, my friendship with Jennifer grew. She became a light in my life, a reminder that even in the darkest times, there was still hope.

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One evening, as we sat in the yard watching kids play, Jennifer turned to me with a smile.
“You know, sometimes life has a funny way of giving you exactly what you need when you least expect it.”
She was right. Angela’s betrayal had broken me, but it also pushed me to discover my strength, my purpose, and something I hadn’t thought I’d find again. Love.

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