AMANDA PLATELL My divorce was so torturous. But now I fear we’re making it far too easy

Five months to end a marriage.

Five months not only to absorb the news that the husband or wife whom you took for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, is leaving, but also five months in which to process recriminations, attempt reconciliation and divide marital assets. And — oh yes — work out who gets custody of the children.

It doesn’t seem long, does it? As we all know, five months is considerably less time than most women spend planning their weddings.

But with the ‘no-fault’ divorce law coming into force today, either party can apply to end their marriage and it will all be over within that time (plus six weeks for the decree absolute — or final order as it will be called — to land on your doormat).

So in theory, you can tell your husband you no longer love him at Christmas and be single by Midsummer’s Day.

The Divorce, Dissolution and Separation Act has been fought hard for by feminists and hailed as a giant leap forward for women (and for men), but is it really?

Campaigners say the new law takes the pain out of divorce. No blame, no bitterness, no need to cite any of the former grounds for divorce, such as unreasonable behaviour, adultery or desertion. Worthy aims, but is the law grounded in reality?

My fear is such simplicity will lead to more divorces. After all, there’s now no need to work through the rough patches that happen in any marriage; it can all be over in months.

Imagine sitting your children down and saying: ‘Mum and Dad have some bad news and some good news. First, we’re getting divorced. Second, it’ll all be over in five months,’ knowing that it can take children years to process something so devastating as the break-up of their family.

Then there are decisions about who gets to live in the family home, or whether it is sold, and who is entitled to what from each other’s pensions, savings and investments.

That is the ugly reality of divorce, where the real bitterness begins. Deciding to go your separate ways is the easy bit, as I know personally.

My marriage was short, yet we both spent many thousands of pounds on lawyers and two years fighting over a tiny flat, a beaten-up old car and our two cats, Ronnie and Reggie.

How can any couple divide everything they may have spent decades building together in the 20 weeks the new law suggests is the ‘cooling off’ period? How can any couple navigate the process of dividing one life into two in such a short space of time?

Divorce expert Claire Reid of Hall Brown Family Law says even in cases where there is not a lot of money or assets involved, it could take 18 months to resolve. So we’ll still need a fortune to pay the lawyers.

From my own experience, I’d say five months is nowhere near long enough to attempt reconciliation.

It took me much longer than that to even apply for a divorce after I discovered that my husband was having an affair.

We parted due to his mistakes and also mine. I wasn’t a very good wife. Yet I changed the locks, made pride my shield, the wronged woman my sympathy calling card. I had two years to consider our choices and conclude that divorce was best for both of us.

When my friends threw me a ‘divorce party’ on the day my decree absolute came through, I felt far from jubilant. In fact, it was one of the saddest times of my life.

However much this law tries to redefine the dissolution of a marriage as ‘quick’ and ‘no fault’, the undeniable truth remains that divorce hurts. It hurts everyone involved. Yet I know plenty of women who, after a suitable breathing period, made a different choice to mine.

One friend decided after her husband left her and their two children for a younger model she would win him back.

So she had an ‘affair’ with her husband behind his mistress’s back, they rekindled their romance and are still happily married 20 years later.

Had she been offered a five-month escape route, I suspect she may well have taken it.

I quote these examples as marriages are not just legal contracts; they are nuanced, born of love, full of conflict and can sometimes be worked out.

Unless one party is a psychopath, there are always degrees of fault on both sides, as in my case.

Many couples I know worked through the tricky spells in their marriages, believing their wedding vows were something worth fighting for. I salute them. Not all of us can be so lucky, or so wise.

My fear is that this new law heralds haste, the antithesis of lifelong commitment and the embodiment of our throwaway society. Marriage is the last institution we should be chucking in the recycling bin.

Perhaps, too, it may serve to be a warning that if you divorce in haste, you may well repent at leisure.