A bit more because my brief comment earlier has brought a lot back.
My parents got married in 1960 when my mother wore an empire style gown and my grandparents rented them a house in another town hours away to reduce the shame of a baby being born 4.5 months later. Mother was a party girl and father a serious, quiet man.
Unusually it was mother who had affairs until my father had one when I was about 11, perfectly reasonably I think and that he was driven to it. But it was the catalyst and in a bitter divorce mother divorced him for adultery. They never spoke again and never spoke well of each other again.
This was when I was 12 and in 1972 and I was the only girl in my class with divorced parents and it was a scandal I our small town. Not least because my mother met a married man and married him as soon as the divorce was through! It was very short lived largelt because within 18 months she met the man who is now my step father and husband 2 went back to his wife.
By the time I was 20 both parents were divorced a second time. I was deeply unhappy in my teenage years but fortunately had wonderful grandparents. I was sent to boarding school for 6th form and spent most of my holidays at grannie's. When I was 18 father got a transfer to the US after his second marriage broke down.
I dropped out of university after a term, did a secretarial course and my grandparents then paid for me to go to Switzerland. When I got back my mother said it would be great if I spent time in London because she and her intended were perfectly happy as a couple. I knew from that point that I would never have any practical support from my parents. I found a flatshare and my grandparents and father helped me buy a flat.
It didn't ruin my life, possibly the reverse because it made me fiercely independent and determined to always have my own stable home and be dependent on nobody financially or emotionally. However it did paralyse me emotionally for many years and I backed away from relationships, I guess until the wounds had healed. I lived on the edge of anorexia in my 20s. I married at 32.
The one lesson it taught me was never ever to mess my children about and I guess the shame of it when it was still shameful made me risk adverse and very traditional in my own life.
Had I been more fragile, not had my grandparents and the advantage of financial stability I am quite sure it would have destroyed me.