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.
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.
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.”
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 16-Year-Old Son Went to Stay with His Grandmother for the Summer – One Day, I Got a Call from Her
When my 16-year-old son offered to spend the summer taking care of his disabled grandmother, I thought he’d finally turned a corner. But one night, a terrifying call from my mother shattered that hope.
“Please, come save me from him!” my mother’s voice whispered through the phone, barely a breath.
A scared elderly woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney
Her words were sharp with fear, a tone I’d never heard from her. My stomach knotted. Before I could respond, the line went dead.
I stared at my phone, disbelief mixing with shock. My strong, fiercely independent mother was scared. And I knew exactly who “him” was.
An angry woman | Source: Pexels
My son had always been a handful, but lately, he’d crossed new lines. At sixteen, he was testing every boundary he could find. Rebellious, headstrong, a walking storm of attitude and defiance.
I remembered him coming home from school, slinging his backpack down with a certain grin that I didn’t recognize. “I was thinking about going to Grandma’s this summer,” he’d said. “I mean, you’re always saying she could use more company. I could keep an eye on her.”
A smiling teenager | Source: Pexels
My first reaction was surprise and a little pride. Maybe he was turning over a new leaf, becoming responsible. But looking back now, as I sped down the darkening highway, his words nagged at me in a way they hadn’t before.
I’d blinked, surprised. “You… want to go stay with Grandma? You usually can’t wait to get out of there.”
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
“I’ll help take care of her,” he’d said. “You could even let the caregiver go, Mom. Save some money, you know?”
The more I drove, the more pieces of our recent conversations slipped into place in my mind, forming a picture I didn’t like.
“People change,” he’d shrugged with a strange smile. Then he looked up at me with a half-smile. “I mean, I’m almost a man now, right?”
A smiling teenage boy with a phone | Source: Pexels
I’d brushed it off then, thinking maybe he was finally growing up. But now, that smile felt… off. Not warm or genuine, but like he was playing a part.
As I drove, I remembered other details, things I’d dismissed at the time. A week into his stay, I’d called, wanting to check on my mother directly. He’d answered, cheerful but too fast, like he was steering the call. “Hey, Mom! Grandma’s asleep. She said she’s too tired to talk tonight, but I’ll tell her you called.”
A concerned woman on her phone | Source: Freepik
Why didn’t I push harder?
My mind raced back to how it all began. It had been just the two of us since his father left when he was two. I’d tried to give him what he needed to stay grounded. But since he hit his teenage years, the small cracks had started widening.
An angry teenage boy | Source: Freepik
The only person who seemed to get through to him now and then was my mother. She had a way of disarming him, though even she admitted he was “testing her patience.”
I dialed my mother’s number again, willing her to pick up. My thumb tapped the screen anxiously, but still, nothing.
The sky darkened as the houses became sparse, her rural neighborhood just up ahead. With every mile, my mind replayed his too-smooth excuses, his charming act.
A woman on her phone in her car | Source: Freepik
As I pulled up to my mother’s house, a chill ran through me. Her lawn, once so tidy, was now overgrown, weeds tangling around the porch steps. The shutters had peeling paint, and the lights were off, as though no one had been home in weeks.
I stepped out of the car, feeling disbelief twisting into a sick anger. Beer bottles and crushed soda cans littered the porch. I could even smell cigarette smoke drifting out through the open window.
A littered porch | Source: Midjourney
My hands shook as I reached for the door, pushing it open.
And there, right in front of me, was chaos.
Strangers filled the living room laughing, drinking, shouting over the music. Half of them looked old enough to be college kids, others barely looked out of high school. My heart twisted, a mixture of fury and heartache flooding through me.
A furious woman | Source: Pexels
“Where is he?” I whispered, scanning the crowd, disbelief giving way to a focused rage. I shouldered through people, calling his name. “Excuse me! Move!”
A girl sprawled on the couch glanced up at me, blinking lazily. “Hey, lady, chill out. We’re just having fun,” she slurred, waving a bottle in my direction.
“Where’s my mother?” I snapped, barely able to hold back the edge in my voice.
A shouting woman | Source: Pexels
The girl just shrugged, unconcerned. “Dunno. Haven’t seen any old lady here.”
Ignoring her, I continued through the packed room, shouting my son’s name over the blaring music. I looked from face to face, my heart pounding faster with every step. Every second that passed made the house feel more like a stranger’s, more like a place my mother would never allow, let alone live in.
Teenagers partying | Source: Pexels
“Mom!” I called, my voice desperate as I reached the end of the hall, near her bedroom door. It was closed, the handle faintly scratched, as though it’d been opened and closed a hundred times in the last hour alone.
I knocked hard, heart racing. “Mom? Are you in there? It’s me!”
A weak, trembling voice replied, barely audible over the noise. “I’m here. Please—just get me out.”
A woman knocking frantically into the closed door | Source: Midjourney
I felt a wave of relief and horror as I fumbled with the handle and threw the door open. There she was, sitting on the bed, her face pale and drawn, eyes rimmed with exhaustion. Her hair was mussed, and I could see dark circles under her eyes.
“Oh, Mom…” I crossed the room in a heartbeat, falling to my knees beside her and wrapping my arms around her.
An elderly woman covering her ears | Source: Freepik
Her hand, frail but steady, clutched mine. “He started with just a few friends,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “But when I told him to stop, he got angry. He… he said I was just getting in the way.” Her voice wavered. “He started locking me in here. Said I was… ruining his fun.”
A sickening wave of anger surged through me. I’d been blind, foolish enough to believe my son’s promise to “help out.” I took a shaky breath, stroking her hand. “I’m going to fix this, Mom. I swear.”
An elderly woman in her bedroom | Source: Freepik
She nodded, gripping my hand, her own fingers cold and trembling. “You have to.”
I walked back to the living room, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt. And there was my son, leaning against the wall, laughing with a group of older kids.
When he looked up and saw me, his face went pale.
“Mom? What… what are you doing here?”
A shocked teenage boy | Source: Freepik
“What am I doing here?” I echoed, my voice steady with a calm I didn’t feel. “What are you doing here? Look around! Look at what you’ve done to your grandmother’s home!”
He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but I saw his mask slipping. “It’s just a party. You don’t have to freak out.”
“Get everyone out of here. Now.” My voice was steel, and this time, it cut through the noise. The whole room seemed to freeze. “I’m calling the police if this house isn’t empty in the next two minutes.”
A furious woman | Source: Freepik
One by one, the partiers shuffled out, murmuring and stumbling toward the door. The house cleared out, leaving only broken furniture, empty bottles, and my son, who now stood alone in the wreckage he’d made.
When the last guest was gone, I turned to him. “I trusted you. Your grandmother trusted you. And this is how you repay her? This is what you thought ‘helping’ looked like?”
A woman confronting her son | Source: Midjourney
He shrugged, a defensive sneer twisting his face. “She didn’t need the space. You’re always on my case, Mom. I just wanted some freedom!”
“Freedom?” My voice shook with disbelief. “You’re going to learn what responsibility is.” I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of each word. “You’re going to a summer camp with strict rules, and I’m selling your electronics, everything valuable, to pay for the damage. You don’t get a single ‘freedom’ until you earn it.”
An angry woman in her living room | Source: Midjourney
“What?” His bravado faltered, fear flickering in his eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am,” I said, voice colder than I’d ever heard it. “And if you don’t change, you’re out of the house when you turn eighteen. I’m done with excuses.”
The next day, I sent him off to camp. His protests, his anger all faded as the summer passed, and for the first time, he was forced to face the consequences.
A teenage boy in a camp | Source: Pexels
As I repaired my mother’s house that summer, I felt the pieces of our family begin to mend. Bit by bit, room by room, I cleared the broken glass, patched up the walls, and held on to hope that my son would come home a different person.
After that summer, I saw my son start to change. He grew quieter, steadier, spending evenings studying instead of disappearing with friends.
A boy doing his homework | Source: Pexels
Small acts like helping around the house, apologizing without being prompted became routine. Each day, he seemed more aware, more respectful, like he was finally becoming the man I’d hoped for.
Two years later, I watched him walk up my mother’s steps again, head bowed. He was a successful gentleman now, about to graduate school with honors and enroll in a nice college. In his hand was a bouquet, his gaze sincere and soft in a way I’d never seen.
A young man with flowers | Source: Freepik
“I’m sorry, Grandma,” he said, his voice thick with regret. I held my breath, watching as the boy I’d fought to raise offered her a piece of his heart.
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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