It’s been 840 days since I became officially separated, and though I vaguely recall the early days of feeling like my life was crumbling before me, these days, I feel overwhelmingly grateful for the opportunity to start a new life at 40.
I liken my separation to very nearly avoiding rear-ending someone in traffic — I feel a sense of “WHOA, THAT WAS A CLOSE ONE” every damn day. It wasn’t that my marriage (from my POV) was bad. It was that it wasn’t a good fit for me, and although I’d have stayed for the rest of my life, I’d have missed all this happiness. It’s like getting glasses when you didn’t realize your vision was strained: things are so much clearer now.
Oh my god, shut the fuck up. How many times a day does that run through my head? I’m willing..
When my daughter was little, I used to love dressing her in cool clothes (that I typically bought on sale..
To be clear, this isn’t at all what men need to be doing on International Women’s Day, it’s what they..
Years ago, I found my birth family. One of my sisters and I have maintained a relationship, but my birth..
Bless me father, for I have sin– no, wait, that’s not right. Forgive me, readers, for I have not blogged…
I am a self-proclaimed “silver-lining-finder”. It’s not something I shove down the throats of others, but a way I cope..