In addition to his new son, Musk also has five teenage sons with Justine Musk, his first ex-wife. The two have joint custody. Then the entrepreneur was married twice to actor Talulah Riley. He and Riley divorced for the second time in , with Musk starting up an on-and-off relationship with actor Amber Heard that summer. A representative for Grimes, who was born Claire Elise Boucher, did not respond immediately Friday to a request for comment.
Musk took his toys and went to Texas last December, slapping California a bit on his way out. Travis Scott sought to uplift Houston. He had a complicated relationship with actress Talulah Riley, and they ended up marrying twice. She noted Musk was a year ahead of her, and he pursued her after seeing her from across the room in their dorm common area. Wilson went to Japan for a year before returning to Canada. But she knew she still had feelings for her ex.
Once he called her, the rest was history. The two married in January , and Musk was starting to attain more and more wealth. They ended up having five children together — twins and triplets — after the death of their first son. I barely recognized myself. I had turned into a trophy wife — and I sucked at it.
I wasn't detail-oriented enough to maintain a perfect house or be a perfect hostess. I could no longer hide my boredom when the men talked and the women smiled and listened. I wasn't interested in Botox or makeup or reducing the appearance of the scars from my C-sections.
And no matter how many highlights I got, Elon pushed me to be blonder. Not long after the accident, I sat on our bed with my knees pulled up to my chest and tears in my eyes. I told Elon, in a soft voice that was nonetheless filled with conviction, that I needed our life to change. I didn't want to be a sideline player in the multimillion-dollar spectacle of my husband's life.
I wanted equality. I wanted partnership. I wanted to love and be loved, the way we had before he made all his millions. Elon agreed to enter counseling, but he was running two companies and carrying a planet of stress.
One month and three sessions later, he gave me an ultimatum: Either we fix this marriage today or I will divorce you tomorrow, by which I understood he meant, Our status quo works for me, so it should work for you. He filed for divorce the next morning.
I felt numb, but strangely relieved. Eight years after I signed the postnup, I began to understand just what I'd done. I had effectively signed away all my rights as a married person, including any claim to community property except our house, which was to be vested in my name once we had a child. But my lawyer is presenting a legal theory that could render the postnup invalid. A postnup, unlike a prenup, requires a complete financial disclosure because of something called "marital fiduciary duty": the obligation of one spouse to be honest and straightforward in financial dealings with the other.
Around the time we signed the agreement, Elon was involved in a significant merger between X. Together, the two became PayPal and raised the value of Elon's X. Whether this was deliberate or an oversight, according to my lawyer, it could render the contract fraudulent, and thus invalid — if it weren't for the protection of mediation confidentiality. That period ended not when we left the lawyer's office or when we got married, but only once we'd signed.
The question that will determine the outcome of our divorce case, which has been winding its way through the California legal system for more than two years, is a legal one: Should mediation confidentiality trump marital fiduciary duty, or vice versa? Two years after our separation, we ended up in court. The judge ruled in Elon's favor, but stressed that the case was "a long cause matter" and immediately certified it for appeal.
Resolution is at least a year away. In the months after our separation, I dyed my hair dark and cut it. I also developed a friendship that gradually deepened into romance with a man I'd known casually for years.
One night he took me to a reading of Eve Ensler's new play. As he pointed out other prominent women in the audience, I realized the kind of social world I'd been living in: The females who populated it were the young wives and girlfriends of wealthy men, or the personal assistants who catered to them.
Women disappeared after some point in their 30s, and any female ambition other than looking beautiful, shopping, and overseeing the domestic realm became an inconvenience. Being in that audience, watching that staged reading, I felt myself reclaim the freedom to write my own life.
Although I am estranged from Elon — when it comes to the children, I deal with his assistant — I don't regret my marriage. I've worked through some anger, both at Elon for rendering me so disposable, and at myself for buying into a fairy tale when I should have known better.
But I will always respect the brilliant and visionary person that he is. I also can't regret the divorce our case was bifurcated, which means that even though the property issues aren't settled, our marriage is legally dead. Elon and I share custody of the children, who are thriving. I feel grounded now, and deeply grateful for my life. People were puzzled that I didn't want to poke chopsticks in her eyeballs.
I would rather live out the French-movie version of things, in which the two women become friends and various philosophies are pondered, than the American version, in which one is "good" and one is "bad" and there's a huge catfight sequence and someone gets thrown off a balcony. She is, by all accounts, a lovely, bright, and very young person, and better fitted to my ex-husband's lifestyle and personality than I ever was. Although she had dark hair when she and Elon first met, she is now blonder than I've ever been.
She lives in Los Angeles with her five sons and two dogs. United States.
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