Years after breaking up with pro-athlete Tom Brady, Bridget Moynahan is finally happy in her love life.
Many of us remember that after two years together, Moynahan and Brady broke up. Soon after, Moynahan revealed she was three months pregnant with their child, who is now 16.
Moynahan went through her pregnancy as a single mother, but she has found happiness in her life.
In a 2008 interview with *Harper’s Bazaar*, the 52-year-old actress shared her unexpected journey as a single mother. She said, “I never thought I would raise a child alone,” and expressed her hope for a loving partner in her life.
Finding out she was pregnant was a big shock for Bridget Moynahan. As an actress and former model, it was especially challenging for her because she always believed in marriage before having children.
In the same *Harper’s Bazaar* interview, Moynahan explained, “I’m a traditional girl, and I believe in marriage, and I always thought that’s the way I’d be having a family. For a moment, it was hard for me to accept that this was the way it was going to be.”
Her relationship with former NFL star Tom Brady ended “amicably” in early December 2006. Soon after the breakup, Moynahan discovered she was three months pregnant. At that time, Brady had started dating supermodel Gisele Bündchen, which made the situation even more complicated.
Looking back on the “traumatic” experience, Moynahan said she had to go through her pregnancy and have a baby under intense media scrutiny. She admitted, “I’m not sure anyone grows up thinking, I want to be a single mom.”
While Moynahan was busy raising her son, Jack, Tom Brady and Gisele Bündchen got married in February 2009. Just ten months later, they had their first child, Benjamin, and in December 2012, they welcomed their second child, Vivian. Unfortunately, they divorced in 2022 after 13 years together.
In her memoir, Bündchen admitted that learning about Brady and Moynahan’s baby was difficult for her. She said, “Two months into our relationship, Tom told me that his ex-girlfriend was pregnant. The very next day, the news was everywhere, and I felt my world got turned upside down.”
Despite the challenges, Moynahan found joy in her son, John “Jack” Edward Thomas, who was born in 2007.
In her 2019 book, *Our Shoes, Our Selves*, Moynahan wrote about the struggles she faced during that time, especially feeling overwhelmed by public attention. “Having a baby should have been the most joyous time of my life, but instead, I felt assaulted,” she said.
Despite these difficulties, she embraced motherhood and found it more fulfilling than her modeling and acting careers. Moynahan has often expressed her love for being a mother and the positive impact it has had on her life. “I have become that mother I used to dread. Every time he does something, you think he’s a genius. He’s a genius,” she told *Harper’s Bazaar*.
Moynahan’s personal life took a happy turn when she met Andrew Frankel, 49, through mutual friends. The couple got engaged in April 2015 and had a secret wedding at Wolffer Estate Vineyard in Sagaponack, New York, in October of the same year. Their small, private ceremony celebrated their love, and instead of gifts, they asked guests to donate to The Hole in the Wall Gang Camp.
Moynahan looked back on her beautiful wedding with gratitude, appreciating the special details of her dress and the celebration. Fans were also thrilled for Moynahan, feeling she deserved this happy ending after her public breakup and journey as a single mother.https://www.instagram.com/p/B3uVB25pXV-/embed/captioned/?cr=1&v=14&wp=270&rd=https%3A%2F%2Fhuffbreak.com&rp=%2Fbridget-moynahans-dream-wedding-see-her-stunning-ceremony-years-after-tom-brady-split%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAAR0DJckUlbmeq9vxrD1ps3GA9DsNaErWMJEyGdMvaKFziaAdimyx8TrrLAs_aem_JJWXIwVgNXFuZRpcaQfiXw#%7B%22ci%22%3A0%2C%22os%22%3A1905.6000000238419%2C%22ls%22%3A1094%2C%22le%22%3A1772.699999988079%7D
Moynahan and Frankel’s blended family consists of his three sons from a previous relationship, creating a loving and supportive environment for Jack.
Despite the unexpected twists in her journey, Moynahan is thankful for the extended family her son has, telling More magazine (via Us Weekly): “My son has two loving parents and an extended family, whether it’s cousins or stepmothers or boyfriends. My son is surrounded by love.”
In sharing her story, it’s clear that Moynahan is someone who embodies resilience and embracing the unpredictability of life. She’s consistently demonstrated the strength of a mother determined to provide love and support for her child, and that’s certainly an admirable trait.
What do you think of Bridget Moynahan? Let us know in the comments!
When My MIL Handed Me a ‘Good Wife’ Rulebook on My Wedding Day, My Husband Got Rich!
You think you’re entering a dream when you marry the person you love. But that dream can quickly become a nightmare when you receive a list of rules about how to be a “good wife.” This is where my revenge started.
As a child, I always imagined that marriage would be different. I pictured Sunday mornings in bed, sharing laughs and secrets, and a partnership based on love and respect. But reality has a strange way of surprising you.
Dan and I had just gotten married. The wedding was perfect—small, intimate, everything I had always dreamed of. For a while, it felt like a fairy tale. Dan was kind and funny, and I truly believed we shared the same ideas about how we wanted to live our lives together. That was until Karen, his mother, gave me a gift after the ceremony.
I remember standing in our living room, still feeling happy from the wedding, when Karen came up to me with her “special” present.
“This is for you, Lucia. A little something to help you as you start your new role.” She handed me a fancy box with a big smile, but her eyes didn’t match her cheerful expression.
Inside the box was a neatly folded piece of paper. When I opened it, my mouth dropped. At the top, in bold letters, it said: “How to Be a Good Wife for My Son.”
At first, I laughed, thinking it was a joke. Maybe Karen was making fun of those old-fashioned ideas about marriage.
But as I kept reading, my smile faded. It was a real list—actual rules I was supposed to follow as Dan’s wife.
I looked at Dan, hoping he’d be as shocked as I was, but he was busy opening his own gift. A check. A big one, too. And me? I got a rulebook.
Later that evening, Dan came to me with a sheepish grin. “You got the rules my mom gave you, didn’t you?” he asked, as if it were just a casual suggestion, not a guide for a life of serving him.
“Yep… I did,” I replied, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice but not succeeding.
Dan shifted awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, you know, that’s just how it is now. Marriage is different from dating.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to smile, to say it was all a joke. But he didn’t.
“Wait… You’re serious?” I asked, looking at him like I didn’t recognize the man I had just married.
He shrugged. “It’s just how things are. Mom says it’s important to keep order, you know?”
I bit my lip, holding back a sharp reply. Keep order. That’s how they saw me now?
After Dan fell asleep, I read through the list again, my hands shaking with anger. I couldn’t believe the nerve.
At 6 a.m., I had to be fully dressed and made up, cooking a hot breakfast for Dan. No veggies, no milk, no butter—he only likes plain eggs and toast. The toast must be perfectly golden brown, and it has to be served on a blue plate because the green one ruins his appetite.
Do all the grocery shopping myself. Dan hates shopping, and it’s no place for a man. Always buy his favorite beer, but not too much—just enough for football nights, but not so much he gets lazy. And I had to carry everything in myself because it’s unladylike to ask for help.
After dinner, the kitchen had to be spotless before Dan even left the dining room. Men shouldn’t see a mess; they must enter a clean space. And always stack the plates by size, wiping the counters twice because Dan hates crumbs.
Dress conservatively when Dan’s friends come over. We don’t want them thinking I’m too “modern” or that I’m not the “right kind of wife.” A good wife never wears anything above the knee, and the neckline should always be high. Anything else would embarrass Dan in front of his buddies.
Make sure Dan never does his laundry. A good wife always has fresh, ironed clothes ready, and socks folded just right—three folds, not two—because that’s how Dan likes them. He should never have to pick out mismatched socks or wear a wrinkled shirt. It reflects poorly on me if he does.
By the time I finished reading, I was furious. This wasn’t just outdated advice; it was a full-on expectation that I cater to Dan’s every wish like I had no other purpose.
And the worst part? Dan was okay with it. He hadn’t even reacted when I mentioned the rules.
I felt trapped, but I wasn’t going to let them get away with this. If they wanted to play this game, I’d play along, but on my terms.
The morning after I read Karen’s list, I woke up at 6 a.m., just like the rules said. I got out of bed, put on my makeup, and slipped into a nice dress.
I looked at myself in the mirror, quietly laughing at how silly this all was. But if Karen wanted me to play this part, I would—just with a twist.
I went downstairs and made breakfast, just like the rules said: plain toast and eggs. But I didn’t stop there. I took the tiniest slice of toast and a plain boiled egg and put them on Dan’s huge blue plate. The plate was so big that the small meal looked ridiculous.
I carefully set it on the table, smiling sweetly as Dan walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.
He looked at the plate, confused. “Isn’t there… anything else?”
I shook my head, smiling brightly. “Just following the rules. Plain eggs and toast! Want me to make another slice?”
Dan sighed, picking up the toast. “No… this is fine.”
I stood there watching him eat the driest breakfast ever, trying not to laugh. Oh, this was going to be entertaining.
Later that afternoon, I made a big show of going to the grocery store. I took my reusable bags and left the house, making sure Dan saw me go by myself, just like the rules said.
When I got back, I carried in all the bags myself, even the heavy ones. Dan watched from the couch, clearly uncomfortable but saying nothing. As I unpacked, he frowned.
“Where’s the beer? Did you forget it?” he asked.
“Oh no, I didn’t forget,” I said cheerfully. “I just didn’t want you getting lazy. Besides, sparkling water is good for you!”
I pulled out a six-pack of sparkling water, a big bottle of green juice, and some quinoa, knowing he wouldn’t touch any of them. Dan’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything. I could see he was starting to realize something was off, but I was just getting started.
After dinner, I followed the other rules in the letter. I wiped down the counters, washed the dishes, and cleaned the kitchen—but not really.
Instead of putting everything back where it belonged, I rearranged the whole kitchen. Plates went in the bathroom cupboard, utensils in the laundry room, and the toaster? I put that in the hall closet.
Dan came into the kitchen, looking around in confusion. “Why is everything all over the place?”
I turned to him with a worried look. “I’m doing my best! Maybe I need to wipe the counters three times instead of two?”
He blinked at me, totally confused, but he let it go. The fun was just beginning.
When Dan’s friends came over for football night a few days later, I made sure to follow Karen’s rule about dressing modestly. I dug through my closet and found the most old-fashioned outfit I could: a long skirt, high-collared blouse, and a buttoned-up cardigan that looked like something from the 1800s.
As soon as Dan’s friends arrived, I walked into the living room with a tray of snacks. His friends looked me up and down, confused but polite enough not to say anything.
Dan pulled me aside as soon as he could, whispering, “You know you don’t have to dress like that, right?”
I widened my eyes innocently. “But your mom said I have to dress modestly. We wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea about me, would we?”
Dan’s friends exchanged awkward glances, but I kept smiling sweetly. The look on Dan’s face was priceless; he was starting to see that I was flipping this whole “good wife” idea upside down, and he was stuck going along with it.
Laundry day came, and I followed the rules again, but with a twist. I washed all of Dan’s clothes together: whites, darks, colors—everything went in one load. When I pulled them out, his once-clean shirts were now a lovely shade of pink, and his socks were either shrunk or mismatched.
Dan opened his drawer the next morning, pulling out one wrinkled pink shirt after another. “What happened to my clothes? These socks don’t even match!”
I walked in with an apologetic look. “Oh no! I must’ve messed up. I’ll try folding them in threes next time, just like the rules say.”
He groaned, putting on his mismatched socks before heading to work, completely defeated. I couldn’t help but smile.
By the end of the week, Dan had had enough. He was trying to eat yet another bland breakfast when Karen arrived, her usual smile on her face. She sat at the table, looking pleased.
“Lucia, I’m so glad to see you following the rules! Isn’t life easier now?”
I laughed quietly. “Oh, Karen, you have no idea.”
Dan slammed his fork down, surprising both of us. “Mom, we need to talk.”
Karen blinked, confused. “Talk about what?”
“These rules… they’re crazy,” Dan said, his voice rising. “I’m miserable, Lucia’s miserable, and this isn’t how we’re going to live.”
Karen looked shocked. “But, Dan, I just want to make sure you’re taken care of! I thought this was how marriage should be!”
Dan shot me a glance, and I shrugged. I was just following the rules, right?
“We need to find our own way,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re my wife, not my maid.”
Karen’s face fell, her smile fading. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t mean to upset you both…”
But it was too late. The damage was done. We spent the next few days talking about what we wanted our marriage to look like, finally finding a balance between his mom’s outdated ideas and our modern life.
The change didn’t happen overnight, but eventually, we found a way to laugh about the whole ordeal, especially when Dan had to explain to his mom why he was now making breakfast for me on Saturdays.
Karen never brought up the rules again, and I made sure to return the fancy box she gave me, filled with the crumpled paper and an assortment of mismatched socks. I told her I didn’t need them anymore.
Looking back, I can’t help but think that her gift, while ridiculous, actually brought us closer together. Dan and I learned how to communicate better, and we established what we wanted from our marriage without anyone else’s rules getting in the way.
Leave a Reply