“Letting Go Broke Me” – Malcolm Jenkins Reveals the Shattering Truth Behind Life After Divorce

When Malcolm Jenkins walks into a room, his presence still carries the intensity of an NFL champion. But behind the toughness of a two-time Super Bowl winner lies a father whose most difficult battle wasn’t fought on the field—but in the quiet, painful aftermath of divorce.

In his memoir What Winners Won’t Tell You: Lessons from a Legendary Defender, Jenkins opens a window into his personal life, exposing the heartbreak and lessons that came with the end of his marriage to Morrisa Jenkins. The couple, who wed in 2011, share two daughters—Elle, born in 2013, and Selah Nola, born in 2018. Their split in 2019 marked what Jenkins describes as a “painful low point,” a time that shattered his sense of control and forced him to redefine what it meant to be a father.

“Letting go broke me,” Jenkins writes, pulling no punches. “You think you can shield your kids from everything, but divorce teaches you otherwise. I had to learn how to show up for my daughters in a world that no longer looked like the one I planned.”

Navigating co-parenting while dealing with the emotional wreckage of a failed marriage took a toll on Jenkins. He admits that the transition was riddled with self-doubt and moments of helplessness. “It was hard not having them under one roof every night. The guilt, the questions, the silence—it all gets loud,” he shares.

Yet amid the chaos, Jenkins found purpose. He channeled the same discipline that made him a defensive powerhouse into being a steady, loving presence for Elle and Selah. “Football taught me to push through pain. Fatherhood taught me to feel it—and still show up,” he reflects.

The former safety, known for his leadership with the New Orleans Saints and Philadelphia Eagles, says his daughters became his anchor. “My love for them is louder than any mistake I’ve made. They saved me in ways they’ll never fully understand.”

Jenkins’ brutally honest account reminds us that vulnerability is not a weakness—it’s a form of strength. And through the heartbreak, he’s become the kind of father his daughters can depend on: present, real, and unbreakably devoted.