Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones: The Untold Story of Their Family and Kids

Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones have been through a lot together. They’ve lived in both the US and Bermuda with their children, Dylan Douglas and Carys Zeta-Douglas, and have experienced many changes along the way.

Now, Dylan is an adult. At 20 years old, he has chosen his own path in life. Being the son of a famous Hollywood star, and the grandson of the legendary Kirk Douglas, brings a lot of pressure.

However, his parents made sure he had the best childhood possible, even moving away from Bermuda to support him.

Michael Douglas was born on September 25, 1944, in New Brunswick, New Jersey, to actor parents Diana and Kirk Douglas.

When Michael was six years old, his parents divorced, and he went to live with his mother. He only saw his father during holidays.

Growing up, Michael Douglas attended the Eaglebrook School in Massachusetts and later went to the elite Choate School.

Michael was introduced to the acting world at a young age. He spent summers with his father, Kirk, who was often shooting films. By his teenage years, Michael knew he wanted to be an actor and asked his father to help him find roles.

Kirk, however, didn’t think acting was right for his son because of the pressure and unpredictability of the industry. He didn’t want either of his sons in show business, but Michael couldn’t be stopped.

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Michael Douglas decided to turn down studying at Yale University and instead moved to California.

“I grew up on the East Coast and was going to go to an Ivy League school, but at the last minute, I decided to be a hippie,” he explained. “There were protest movements about the war and peace movements at our university. It was a fantastic time.”

While studying at the University of California, Santa Barbara, he kept asking his father, Kirk, for help to get into the movie industry. In 1966, he landed his first role.

### Start of Acting Career

Michael Douglas made his debut in *Cast a Giant Shadow*, where his father also starred. He played an uncredited driver in the film.

“I was lucky to grow up watching how my father acted, along with stars like Tony Curtis, Burt Lancaster, and Frank Sinatra, who were often at our house,” Michael said on *The Talk*. “You see stars with their insecurities and how they behave, so I think that’s kept me grounded.”

Michael Douglas graduated with a bachelor’s degree in 1968 and decided to move back to the East Coast. This time, he settled in New York City, where he continued to pursue his career in film.

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Michael Douglas studied at the American Place Theatre and later at the Neighborhood Playhouse. He landed some leading roles and spent time performing in off-Broadway productions.

### Academy Award Winner

Before his first film role, Michael Douglas had a small part in the television show *The F.B.I.* The producer, Quinn Martin, was impressed with him, and Douglas then got a role in the new police series *The Streets of San Francisco*. The show premiered in 1972 and became Douglas’s big breakthrough.

*The Streets of San Francisco* became one of ABC’s highest-rated programs in the mid-1970s, airing during prime time. Michael Douglas received three consecutive Emmy Award nominations for his performance. He also directed two episodes of the series, gaining experience in directing, which he would use later.

In 1975, Michael produced the classic film *One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest*, which helped establish him as a top producer. The film won several Academy Awards, and Douglas himself won an Academy Award for Best Picture.

By this time, Douglas was a successful producer and director, and everyone wanted to work with him. He produced and starred in *The China Syndrome* (1979) alongside Jane Fonda. The movie received more Academy Award nominations and was named one of the best films of the year by the National Board of Review.

Michael Douglas went on to become a major Hollywood star with his performances as Gordon Gecko in *Wall Street* (1987), in *Falling Down* (1993), and *The Game* (1997).

### Michael Douglas – Catherine Zeta-Jones

During this time, he met his love, Catherine Zeta-Jones. Even before they met, he admired her talent.

“I was watching this movie and thought, ‘Wow, who is this girl? She’s incredible,’” Douglas remembered. He was watching a screening of her upcoming movie *The Mask of Zorro* at that moment.

The two stars met in 1996 at the Deauville Film Festival.

“I had been told Michael Douglas wanted to meet me,” Zeta-Jones said in a 2001 interview with Larry King. “I was a little nervous because I didn’t quite know what he wanted to meet me about.”

Michael Douglas knew right away that he had just met the love of his life.

However, Michael Douglas worried he had ruined any chance of a future with Catherine during their first meeting.

“I said to her after about half an hour, ‘You know, I’m going to be the father of your children,’” Douglas recalled on *The Jonathan Ross Show*, as quoted by E! News. “It sounded good, but she said, ‘You know, I’ve heard a lot about you and I’ve seen a lot about you, and I think it’s time I say goodnight.’”

### Married in 1999

Douglas and Zeta-Jones kept talking on the phone for about nine months and continued to enjoy dinners together. They eventually wondered why they weren’t officially together, so they decided to sit down and discuss it.

“He certainly didn’t want me as an ex-girlfriend on his list, and I certainly didn’t want ‘Michael Douglas’ as an ex-boyfriend on my list,” she said. “We looked at each other one day and said, ‘We’re having a lot of fun together.’”

Their romance blossomed. Despite the 25-year age difference, which attracted media attention, they didn’t care because their love was strong. On New Year’s Eve in 1999, Michael Douglas proposed to Catherine at his home in Aspen, Colorado.

“Both of us were sick as dogs because we had the flu,” Douglas recalled in 2016. Later that year, they got married.

“I don’t take any of this for granted,” Zeta-Jones told *People* during their wedding. “When I look at Michael, I run around like a little girl. I can’t believe I came into his life and he came into mine.”

### Dylan Douglas

Just months after their engagement, there were rumors that the couple was expecting a child. In August 2000, Dylan Douglas was born. He was Catherine Zeta-Jones’s first child and Michael Douglas’s second; his first son, Cameron, was born in 1978 to his former wife, Diandra Luker.

Catherine and Michael welcomed their second child, a daughter named Carys Zeta-Douglas, in 2003. Like any marriage, they faced ups and downs, but their love always prevailed.

Now, their children are all grown up, and Dylan Douglas has chosen a very different career from that of his parents. He seems to be quite the daredevil.

Dylan Douglas is now 20 years old and has already lived in several places.

### Dylan Douglas – Childhood

As a young child, Dylan and his family lived in Bermuda. Michael Douglas has strong ties to the islands because his mother is from there, and he spent many teenage summers there.

In 2001, when Dylan was just one year old, Michael and Catherine decided to move the family to Bermuda. Being two major celebrities, they believed it would be better for their children to grow up away from the spotlight, which can often be toxic.

Douglas and Zeta-Jones, who were living in New York City at the time, wanted their kids to have a safe and calm upbringing without the hassle of paparazzi.

In Bermuda, they felt people respected their privacy.

“Bermuda creates an environment for us away from the entertainment business and gives our kids independence and freedom where showbiz isn’t on everybody’s lips,” Douglas said, as quoted by the *Bermuda Sun*. “It’s a lovely, lovely place.”

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However, the family only stayed on the island for eight years because Dylan was diagnosed with dyslexia.

### Dylan Douglas – Dyslexia

Dylan didn’t start reading until he was five years old. His parents, Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones, decided it was best for him to attend a special school in New York. So, the Douglas family left Bermuda, and Dylan finally got the chance to show everyone what a great kid he was. He enrolled at the Windward School, which specializes in helping children with dyslexia.

Those years were very challenging for the Douglas family. Not only was Dylan’s half-brother Cameron sentenced to five years in prison, but Michael Douglas also found out that he had stage 4 tongue cancer. He went through chemotherapy and radiation therapy while Dylan was adjusting to his new school.

In the end, Michael Douglas successfully overcame his cancer treatment, and Dylan went on to enjoy school. During an emotional speech at a Windward School fundraiser, Dylan honored the school that helped him overcome his dyslexia and also talked about how his father’s cancer had affected his life.

My Husband Invited His Entire Office to Our Thanksgiving Without Telling Me – My Revenge Was Delicious

When Zoe’s husband invites 15 coworkers to Thanksgiving — without warning — her cozy holiday turns chaotic. With a smile sharper than her carving knife, she channels her fury into orchestrating a feast they’ll never forget. Can she pull it off while teaching her husband a lesson he won’t live down?

Thanksgiving morning came in like a hurricane. My coffee had gone cold on the counter while I darted between rescuing the living room walls from Emma’s artistic endeavors and intercepting Jake, who’d somehow scaled the counter to get his tiny hands on a plate of cookies.

A boy reaching for a cookie | Source: Midjourney

A boy reaching for a cookie | Source: Midjourney

“Emma, honey, we color on paper, not the walls,” I said, peeling the crayon from her sticky fingers.

She looked up at me with a grin both innocent and maddening.

“Jake!” I called, snatching the plate just as he made off with another cookie. He gave me a gummy smile, crumbs tumbling down his chin like tiny confessions.

A boy holding a cookie | Source: Midjourney

A boy holding a cookie | Source: Midjourney

I sighed and scooped him off the counter, setting him on the floor with a toy spatula as a peace offering.

The turkey was in the oven, the table half-set, and the mashed potatoes — well, they were still more like potato chunks, but I was determined.

Hosting Thanksgiving was my Everest every year. Sure, it was stressful, but there was something deeply satisfying about pulling it off, even if my in-laws did nothing but offer critiques disguised as helpful suggestions.

A woman cooking | Source: Midjourney

A woman cooking | Source: Midjourney

I’d barely taken a breath when the front door slammed open. Dan’s voice boomed through the chaos.

“We’re here!”

We?

I turned, still holding a bowl of partly mashed potatoes, to see Dan standing in the entryway. He was beaming, the kind of grin he wore when he’d made a decision he thought was brilliant but was about to wreck my day.

A man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

Behind him, a parade of unfamiliar faces streamed in, each looking ready for a party. Some held bottles of wine or bags of snacks, while others glanced around uncertainly, clearly sensing that their arrival wasn’t as warmly anticipated as Dan had promised.

“Dan,” I said slowly, my voice edged with warning, “who’s ‘we’?”

He didn’t notice the tension in my tone, and even worse, chose to ignore it. His grin widened, oblivious to the rising storm.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

“I invited a few coworkers,” he said casually as if this were something we’d discussed in detail and agreed upon over breakfast. “They didn’t have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving. Isn’t that what the holidays are all about?”

I stared at him, the words not quite connecting in my brain. Did he seriously just say a few coworkers? My grip tightened around the bowl of potatoes, the ridges of its edge digging into my palms.

“A few?” I managed, my voice climbing a little higher with each word.

A shocked woman holding a bowl | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman holding a bowl | Source: Midjourney

“Fifteen,” he replied, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He was still grinning, proud of his altruistic brilliance. “But it’s no big deal! Just make a couple more portions. You’re great at this stuff.”

I blinked, the number reverberating in my skull. Fifteen. Fifteen unexpected, unplanned, utterly uninvited people standing in my house on Thanksgiving, the day I dreaded each year for its precise balancing act of chaos and tradition.

For a moment, I was too stunned to do anything but picture my bowl of potatoes sailing through the air toward Dan’s head.

A bowl of potatoes flying through the air | Source: DALL-E

A bowl of potatoes flying through the air | Source: DALL-E

The fantasy was short-lived but oh-so-satisfying. I could almost hear the splat as the potatoes scattered like confetti.

But alas, I was not the kind of woman who hurled produce. At least, not yet.

Instead, I took a deep breath, the kind that makes your chest feel too tight but stops you from screaming. Plastering on a smile that felt more like barbed wire than warmth, I pivoted toward the living room, where Dan’s coworkers were now awkwardly congregating near the couch.

People standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

People standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

Emma was circling their legs like a determined little tornado, holding up her latest crayon masterpiece, while Jake toddled around with a triumphant fistful of crackers he’d scavenged from God knows where.

“Welcome, everyone!” I called, clapping my hands together so loudly it startled one poor guy into dropping his snack bag. “So glad you could join us! Since this was a little… unexpected,” I said, letting the pause hang heavily in the air, “I’ll need some help to make it all come together.”

Dan’s grin faltered. That alone was enough to give me a spark of satisfaction.

A man standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

“Uh, I thought you had everything under control—”

“Oh, I do,” I said sweetly, my voice dripping with the kind of sugary determination that made my children instinctively behave. “But you can take the kids upstairs so I can focus down here.”

He opened his mouth to argue, the flicker of panic crossing his face suggesting he realized too late that he had underestimated the situation.

I gave him a pointed look. He closed his mouth and glanced around the room for an ally. None of his coworkers made eye contact. They all suddenly seemed deeply interested in the patterns on my living room rug. Smart move.

People standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

People standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

With Dan momentarily neutralized, I turned back to the crowd, my smile now dialed up to full-on mom-general mode.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Jim,” — I decided the man fumbling with the dropped snack looked like a Jim — “can you continue mashing these potatoes? And you, Sarah, right? Great. Sarah, could you help set the table?”

They hesitated, unsure whether this was part of some elaborate Thanksgiving tradition or just my thinly veiled way of punishing them.

People exchanging awkward glances | Source: Midjourney

People exchanging awkward glances | Source: Midjourney

“The kitchen is just through here, follow me,” I added, turning to lead the way.

Soon, everyone was busy with their assignments like recruits who knew better than to question their drill sergeant.

Dan returned after about ten minutes, now wearing a paper turkey glued to his shirt, courtesy of Emma’s relentless crafting enthusiasm. Jake trailed after him with a smug look, holding a juice box I was certain he hadn’t asked for.

A boy holding a juice box | Source: Midjourney

A boy holding a juice box | Source: Midjourney

Dan surveyed the scene, his mouth opening in what was likely another attempt at commentary, but I shut it down with a simple glance. My impromptu army was working, and no way was he going to derail it now.

The sound of the potato peeler scraping against tubers joined the clinking of plates and the occasional giggle of guests trying to navigate their tasks.

It was chaos, yes, but it was my chaos.

A confident woman | Source: Midjourney

A confident woman | Source: Midjourney

It wasn’t all smooth sailing. Someone spilled cranberry sauce on my rug, and another coworker accidentally doubled the sugar in the sweet potatoes. But somehow, by sheer force of will (and a little wine), the chaos began to look like progress.

Dinner came together like a miracle. The table groaned under the weight of turkey, stuffing, and all the trimmings, each dish looking more impressive than the last.

I took my seat at the head of the table, raising my glass with a triumphant smile.

A woman making a toast | Source: Midjourney

A woman making a toast | Source: Midjourney

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” I began, my tone warm but pointed. “This wouldn’t have been possible without your help — literally. I hope you enjoyed seeing what Thanksgiving prep looks like in this house. Isn’t teamwork amazing?”

Dan’s boss chuckled. “Dan, you didn’t tell us we’d be working on our day off!”

The table erupted in laughter. Dan gave a sheepish smile, sinking lower into his chair. I allowed myself a moment of smug satisfaction.

A sheepish man at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A sheepish man at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

After dessert, I stood, clapping my hands once more. “Alright, everyone, let’s tackle the clean-up together! Dan, why don’t you lead the dishwashing crew? You’re so good at organizing.”

Dan’s coworkers didn’t even blink. They rose, collecting plates and stacking bowls as if it were second nature.

I watched from the doorway as Dan scrubbed dishes, a streak of whipped cream on his cheek and an expression of utter defeat on his face.

A man washing dishes | Source: Midjourney

A man washing dishes | Source: Midjourney

Jake toddled over, tugging at his pant leg, and Dan crouched down, his voice soft but tired.

“I’m sorry, buddy. Mommy’s the boss, isn’t she?”

You bet your glued-on turkey she is, I thought, smirking as I headed back to the dining room.

Later that night, as the house finally quieted and the kids snored softly in their beds, Dan found me on the couch. He sat down beside me, handing me a mug of tea.

A woman holding a mug of tea | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a mug of tea | Source: Pexels

“Zoe,” he began, running a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how much work goes into this. I shouldn’t have surprised you like that.”

I let the silence stretch just long enough for him to squirm. “No, you shouldn’t have,” I said, though my tone was more teasing than angry now.

He gave me a small smile. “You were amazing today.”

I sipped my tea, leaning back onto the couch with a satisfied sigh.

A woman relaxing | Source: Midjourney

A woman relaxing | Source: Midjourney

“Just remember this next time you think about inviting an entire office to Thanksgiving.”

“Next time?” He looked horrified, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Let’s hope there’s no next time,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder.

Thanksgiving was a rollercoaster, but at least it was our rollercoaster, and I was firmly in the driver’s seat.

A confident woman | Source: Midjourney

A confident woman | Source: Midjourney

Here’s another story: My MIL Gloria crossed a line when she strutted into Thanksgiving with a turkey bearing a photo of my face. Her humiliating “joke” in front of the family was the last straw. But little did Gloria know, I had a plan to turn her stunt into the talk of the town — for all the wrong reasons.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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