Many years ago, I went through a rather painful divorce (not that there's any other kind), and I was astonished at how my boss handled the situation. His human kindness showed through in how he dealt with me when life intruded on work, and the way he behaved turned out to be not only humane but good for business.

At first I tried to hide my marital problems. Even though I was separated, I didn't tell anyone at work about it. I didn't want people to think of me as unstable or unreliable, although I knew that I was both. Plus, who wants to start telling all their co-workers about what a dirty so-and-so their soon-to-be ex is only to reconcile and then have to sheepishly explain why they were totally wrong about their prior grievances?

At the same time, I was a basket case. I couldn't focus on work, only on the waves of emotion that seemed unstoppable. Anger, fear and sorrow were my ever-present companions, and the petty details of work seemed overwhelmingly unimportant. I couldn't focus on anything but my crumbling personal life.

By the time I realized that I hadn't accomplished a single thing in a month, I decided that I should talk to my boss about what was going on. But I was still reluctant to do it. I was afraid that I'd be fired for my poor productivity or marginalized as a mental case. I imagined the meeting many times. All the scenarios in my head ended with embarrassment, shame and humiliation, and some even included impoverishment.

So, prepared for the worst, I went to my boss's office, slunk inside and shut the door. The conversation started out much like any other one: There was the normal amount of small talk, some observations on the project I was working on, his listening, my fidgeting. Finally, I let out my awful little secret. I explained that I knew that I hadn't been very productive lately and apologized for not telling him about my personal issues sooner. I confessed that I didn't know what to do about it.