Slogging through the pain

The first time I noticed that I was healing was in the car. I was driving to work, and all of a sudden realized I had not cried in over half a day. This was six months after our separation. Before that moment, I grieved throughout the day every day, excusing myself to go to the bathroom at work, or crying at the drop of a hat at home. The pain would sometimes be so great, it felt like a knife was cutting me from inside out. (Click here for my previous post on this subject.)

The Modern Woman's Divorce Guide also discusses the indescribable (but inevitable) pain that one experiences. This stage is not only normal but necessary before you can begin to heal and move on. You literally feel you are going to die, and it will take all your resources (friends, family, strength of will) to face this dreadful period. In fact, I needed a mild anti-depressant, since my mind was unable to concentrate at work. I took it for only six months, but it helped me get over the hump.

Time does work wonders. My change was so gradual that at first that I didn't notice I was getting stronger. Then all of a sudden I would realize that it had been days since I cried; or that I was laughing at jokes again; or that I had completely lost myself in a book or a movie. The change is not linear. Often when I thought I had turned a corner, something would trigger a memory and I would plunge back to deep grieving.

Inexorably over time, the good days began to outweigh the bad days. Five years after the divorce I was largely healed. Today, six years later, I look forward to spending time by myself. The tears are gone, and I no longer yearn for the old days or my old friends or my former lifestyle, or my husband, for that matter, who has become unrecognizable.

These days I live totally in the moment. So, when you feel that your days are endless and that your grief will never subside, know that you will one day be happy and content again. After your restlessness vanishes, you will find yourself a different person, much stronger and perhaps a bit more cynical, but vastly wiser.

And that's not a bad trade off for having gone through this trial by fire.

You can be replaced

The previous post sat for too long by itself. Sometimes one's busy schedule gets in the way. The voter who agreed that it was "none of my business" how soon my friend's husband began to date was correct.

It is none of my business.

I was merely reacting to my own situation. Six months after Bob left (and deep into our marriage counseling sessions) he began to seriously date a new woman. She would give him expensive gifts. When I noticed his new watch or shoes, he would lie and assure me that he bought them for himself.

Six months after our divorce he married this person.

So I learned rather harshly that you can be replaced seamlessly and without too much effort. This happens when you leave a job , with friends who have moved on, and as I learned much later, with spouses. While I often think about my ex when I go to a place that we used to visit for enjoyment together or see a movie that we particularly liked, I know without a doubt that he wastes no time thinking about me at all.

Just because you are divorced, should you sweep everything - even the good memories - under the rug? I choose to remember. I don't know where I am exactly going with this, except to say that it is ok to recall the good times you once had with your former spouse. Just don't let those wonderful moments cloud reality and prevent you from moving forward.

Ok, let's get off this subject for a moment. Here's a neat website: www.Meez.com. You can create an avatar, much like I did, and place it on your blog, IM, My Space, or website. It's a fun and uplifting exercise and will keep your mind off your problems for a pleasant hour or so.

How long should you wait?

How long should a grieving widow or widower wait before seriously dating again? Today I learned that the husband of my best friend (who died in June) has been steadily seeing one woman for a few months.

Halt the presses, my mind screamed when I heard this news. Too soon! Too soon! I felt sick for Leslie, whose life had revolved around him and her boys.

I felt like calling him and telling him to give her the respect she deserves and to mourn her fully before turning to the first person within sniffing distance for solace! Worse, this person was Leslie's good friend.

Frankly, I don't care how horny or lonely he is, after 25 years of marriage my friend deserved more than a half year of mourning before her husband began to date one person exclusively.

My other friends were very forgiving. Well, you know, said one, he needs a woman. My ass.

Now that I've had a few hours to cool off, my question to you is this: How long is a long enough wait? Inquiring minds want to know. Here's your chance to leave some input without writing a comment. Am I the only person to think that my friend deserves a longer period of mourning, or am I out of touch with the rest of the world?

After 25 years of marriage, how long should a widow or widower wait before embarking on a serious new relationship?
	Right away
	3 months
	6 months
	One year
	Never. They should wear sack cloth and ashes for the rest of their lives.
	Never. They should commit hari kiri on the funeral pyre.
	Why are you asking this question? None of your business.
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Change is inevitable

Let’s face it. As soon as you and your spouse separate, life as you have known it is no more. Some of you will take on the sole responsibility of raising your children while going to work full time, and maintaining the house. I’m willing to bet that you tumble into bed exhausted. Not only are you taking on the role of two people, but you are climbing a steep learning curve. Since my husband was an accountant who had complete control of our investments, I had to learn to about budgeting, saving for retirement, investments, pretax withholdings, and the like.

The biggest surprise about being single is that you have to drive everywhere. I miss being a passenger or seeing the scenery as I drive through the countryside. If you are married and have single friends, offer to drive them somewhere. I’m willing to bet they’ll take you up on it so fast your head will spin.

I was also shocked to find which friends stayed loyal and which friends did not. Some of my girlfriends were faculty wives and their husbands are still Bob’s colleagues. I was determined to keep these girlfriends, so I decided to keep my thoughts about Bob and our divorce to myself. When we are at gatherings I find other things to talk about, and keep the conversation light and frothy. All in all I retained about 90% of these friends, and although I don’t see them as much as I used to because of my travel schedule, we still see each other about 4 or 5 times per year.

As you attempt to avoid pitfalls during the worst time of your separation, you might find some help in these suggestions. I learned them the hard way, and then some.

• Your friends are there for you, especially during the early crisis stages. But they lead busy lives too. As time wears on, expect them to drift away a little at first, and then a lot.
  


• Don’t put your friends in the middle and force them to choose sides. I had two friends who thought Bob was a fiend and a jerk and a dork, and they minced no words about how they felt. I spoke my true thoughts to them, and I kept to the high road with all the rest.
  


• Your friends want to help you but some don’t know what to do. Some others will feel very uncomfortable with the situation and seem to avoid you. Put them at ease and tell them you understand. If you need to see them, tell them. Better yet, ask them that you need their help. They’ll feel so relieved to be given something specific to do without having to engage in an uncomfortable dialogue.
  


• Don’t expect your relationships with your couple friends to remain the same. It will not. I am rarely invited to intimate couples parties or gatherings. It’s just a fact of life. You can choose to complain about this or move on. At first I railed and ranted when I found myself alone on weekends, then I found new friends to pal around with. This process took a few years. And no, it wasn’t easy to be dropped by my couples friends from regular gatherings. However, I understand this is normal. I still see these couples at major events, though, and meet up with the wives for lunch.
  


• Because of the above, expect to feel lonely on weekends at first. Saturday nights were the hardest for me. If you have kids, this may not be as much of a problem since you will be caught up in their activities. Nevertheless, be prepared. Find other things to do, and try not to compare your new social life to your old one.

Going it Alone

Bob was convinced that I hated camping, rafting, canoeing, tubing, and boating. Not true. I just didn't care to engage in these activities as frequently as he liked. I joined him on these expeditions once or twice a year, and when we owned our lakeshore property, at least twice a month.

But it was never enough for him. Not the times in spring when we embarked on 3-day canoeing and camping trips in Pennsylvania with twelve other couples; not the 18 mile bike rides through the Virginia countryside, not the day-long sea kayaking trip along the California coast, not the hikes along Blue Ridge Mountain trails, the hours of couples tennis, nor the 5-mile runs in European cities to see the splendor of old world architecture on foot. We've gone gliding, ballooning, and sailing. But as far as he was concerned, I never desired physical activity enough.

After he left, I continued to pursue some of the outdoor activities we once enjoyed. I arranged half day tubing trips down the James River with friends and family; and joined girlfriends on hikes along Blue Ridge trails. Of course I'm much older now, and my back and knees are creaky and sore, so I've stopped running and playing tennis.

One cheeky young guide told me how "brave" she thought I was, a fifty-something woman, for going it alone and joining a group of strangers to go rafting. But what choice did I have? So few women my age actively seek out these kinds of activities, and if I wanted to do it I had no choice but to go alone.

I no longer have anything to prove to Bob, of course, but sometimes as I course down the river in a raft with a group of strangers, I think smugly of the fact that I am still pursuing these activities on my own, while (quite accurate) rumors have it that Bob's new wife doesn't engage in any of these activities at all.

Ooooh, finally a snarky comment on my blog about my ex and his new soul mate. I'm just recovering from a long bout with the flu, so please excuse my lapse in good divorce manners.

Finding a Job: Writing Your Resume

Among the worries upper most in my mind during the early months of my separation was putting together a decent resume. Oh, I’d dabbled at working and I had a resume of sorts, starting with a job I held in High School. But I cringed whenever I read it. Sales girl, EKG Technician, Lab Tech, Book Store Receptionist, File Clerk, self employed artist, VISTA Volunteer, and community relations specialist. None of these jobs shared a common thread, and none led to a promotion or a position with a real future.

How could I find a job based on such a messy, sloppy work record?

I turned to a friend to help me out. She was one of the premier Marketing Professors at the University of Virginia, so that helped tremendously, and she advised me to position myself through my abilities and skills. She also advised me to toss out the chronological sequence of my job history, especially those minor sales girl and file clerk jobs.

I reworked my resume according to her suggestions and edits, not questioning her expertise and trusting that she knew what she was doing. Lo and behold, by June 30 I was offered a serious job. My friend had been right. My new resume not only looked professional, it demonstrated who I was as a worker and responsible person, emphasizing my quest for lifelong learning, and downplaying the silly jobs I’d held over the years.

The best resumes, of course, are those that are densely packed with jobs and qualifications that progress ever onward and upward, which mine is now starting to resemble. In fact, I am now hard pressed to put everything I’ve done and can do in two short pages. I revisit my resume every six months, making changes and additions. It’s part of my Plan B to be prepared (just in case.)

If you do not have a good marketing professor waiting in the wings to help you, and if you are too upset at present to think straight, here are some wonderful sites that will help point you in the right direction. You might want to ask the boss of a friend to review your new resume before you send it out. Oh, and I worked up several versions of my resume, some aimed at nonprofits, and others aimed at corporations. As Shakespeare said (or something to that effect), "The audience is the thing!"

• Free Career Advice


• Resume Writing 101


• Writing Your Resume


• Resources for Resume Writing

By sheer coincidence, The Modern Woman's Divorce Guide is covering the job hunting topic on one of its posts as well. Good minds think alike!

Finding a job with benefits at the tender age of 50

I'll admit it: I had it cushy for 26 years. Oh, don't think I didn't carry my weight or that I slacked off, but I lived the life of a fairy princess for a long time.

Sure Bob and I struggled in the early years. 75% of our combined income went to paying the mortgage and bills to our first house. Then, when we returned to school in our late twenties, we couldn't sell the dang thing. For a year we had to pay the mortgage to that place plus the rent to our walk up apartment in Boston. That was tough. But I still recall those years as being heady and fun and interesting.

And then we came across a fork in the road: Should "we" place 100% of our combined efforts into Bob's career with its promise of financial rewards and a way out of debt? Or should I continue to pursue my interest in art and art history? It was a no-brainer, and I redoubled my efforts to support my husband as he went to graduate school full time. I recall driving him to the library every day during the time that he wrote his dissertation, and editing and proofing one variation of the document after another.

In year 20 of our marriage the financial rewards began to outweigh our debts, and I must say I enjoyed spending money and traveling, which we did all through the 90's. We were not rich, but we wanted for nothing.

I pursued a career as an artist, making a modest income and learning an incredible amount about marketing myself and making contacts. I also volunteered in a local literacy organization. My small role in the organization kept expanding, from tutor to trainer to recruiter to community relations specialist to VISTA Volunteer. In order to keep up with the staff and their needs, I learned valuable computer skills. I also made a ton of contacts in my community.

At the time my marriage dissolved, I no longer worked with the organization. Bob wanted me on hand to travel (we traveled about 2 months per year), and my frequent absences were affecting the quality of my work. However, I still volunteered for the organization, creating their newsletters and publicity flyers.

The day Bob left I called a colleague at that organization, and landed an 8 hour per week position right away. I then called all the contacts I'd made over the years, letting them know I was looking for a full time job.

I found one position through a newspaper ad, and was offered the job. This was such a boost to my ego, that I almost accepted the position. But then I did the math. First, the salary was quite low, and second, the job came with no benefits. Regretfully I turned the job down, saying that by accepting it I would be unable to afford my house. Then I sat back, wondering if I would regret my decision.

A month later a friend told me about a consulting position at a nearby university, one that was funded through June 30th. She and I discussed it and it sounded like the ideal situation for me. But then nothing happened. Another month passed by, and my friend said she was "still on it." I believed her, but I also knew that she was an incredibly busy person and that helping me out was not her number one priority. I was working two jobs by then, one in a frame shop, which kept me as busy as I wanted to be up to 20 hours per week.

So, six weeks after learning about the job, I called the person in charge of the project and asked her if she was still looking for someone. Oh, yes, she said, adding that she'd been wondering why I hadn't called. As it turns out, a certain pot of money was set aside for this position, and I was told to ask for the most ridiculous amount per hour.
"$19 per hour? "I ventured.
"More," she said.
And so I went up until she was satisfied that I would use the full amount that had been allocated for this project by the end of the fiscal year. The one glitch was that the job did not come with benefits and would end in three months.

At the first staff meeting, I realized that I had teed off my friend and her boss in a major way by leapfrogging over them. Uh, oh, I thought, but then relaxed. My life was in chaos and theirs' wasn't. So I determined to do the best I could and prove to them that I was worth the hire.

I soon realized that three months was too much time for so little work, so I found ways to make myself useful, creating a database of past and present trainers, some publicity materials, realigning some statewide territories so they made more sense when we went out in the field, and teaching support staff crucial desktop publishing skills. In other words, I found gaps that needed to be filled and made myself indispensable in general.

When June arrived, my boss asked me if I would consider a permanent position with them, one with benefits. Would I? I tried not to leap into her arms to hug her, but she could tell from the joy on my face that she had lifted a huge worry. As for my friend and her boss, they forgave me for taking charge of my own situation and leapfrogging over them. My work had relieved their loads and they couldn't argue with the results.

So, here I am at 58, just embarking on a career, rubbing elbows with people half my age, and working on statewide projects that affect hundreds of organizations. It hasn't been easy for me. I needed to take a lot of work home at first just to learn the "business." And I've taken a lot of classes and workshops since.

These are some of lessons you might take away from my slipshod approach to life:

1. Do not depend on the actions of others. Yes your friends and acquaintances might have your welfare in mind, but their sense of timing is not as urgent as yours.
   
   
2. Don't accept a job just because it is offered. Ask yourself: Is this situation good enough for me and my needs? If I take this job, will I close the door on something better?
   
   
3. Once you land a position you love, make yourself indispensable. Make them want you more than you need them. Easier said than done? Yeah, but worth the rewards.
   
   
4. Not divorced and happily married? Keep yourself employable any way. You never know what life will hand you and when you'll need to go it alone. Too many women my age were left stranded because they did not align their hobbies or volunteer jobs with employable skills. You might say I was lucky in that regard. Then again, I am a firm believer that, barring a natural catastrophe, you create your own luck.
   

This is the one time that you really can't rely on the advice of others. You know what situation works best for you. Only you know what working conditions will make you happy. For some, having financial security is the strongest pull. For me, the benefits were extremely important, as I have asthma and need frequent medical care. In addition, I needed to be given a great amount of independence, which is exactly what I got. I am making much less than my young nephew, who is just four years out of college, but I thank my lucky stars that I found the job I did.

Time to Move On

Eight months after my separation it felt as if time had stood still. I still cried daily, felt an enormous amount of stress, and had seen no benefit in seeing a therapist once a week. I was exhausted from working two jobs (I had quit my third one during the summer) and maintaining my house. It was all becoming too much for me.

At my mother's urging, I went to a divorce support group at a nearby church. Six of us attended, two new people and four veterans. As the hour progressed, I sat there thinking, "What am I doing here?" One woman was in such crisis that she was bawling, literally unable to hold herself together. Others had been divorced for years, yet were still rehashing the same old stuff.

When it was my turn, I told my little tale of woe. Then five of us tried to help the bawler, whose situation was uncannily similar to mine, except that she'd been married for about six years. Her husband had left the same month that Bob left, seemingly out of the blue. Frankly, she was young and able bodied, and as far as I could tell, had her whole life in front of her.

She refused to listen to us when we suggested she get therapy (she had yet to see a counselor.) All she could say to my suggestions was, "But, but, but, but...." At the end of this short session, two people approached me saying they hoped I would join the group. Join? No way! These people had demonstrated that no matter how painful my life felt at the time, I was actually doing ok.

I don't know what happened to the bawler. Sure, I felt sympathy for her as she was feeling real pain, but I had a hard enough time coping with my own situation. As for the other four women? Hopefully, they were able to help that young bawler, because I believe that's what support groups are all about. Perhaps this was all that poor young woman could afford.

As for me, I had turned a corner. I felt stronger, knowing that I was moving through the stages of disbelief, anger, and grief at the right pace. For the first time I realized that my therapy sessions were working. Not only was this a real eye opener, it lay the foundation for some tough, but helpful counseling sessions in the next few months.

Illustration from http://www.cartoonstock.com/directory/s/support_group.asp

Jumping in feet first

All right, I admit it. I’ve been sounding like a supercilious, know-it-all model of perfection, talking about making my own luck, creating a plan B, and setting certain standards for myself. The reality is that I’m winging through life like the rest of us. The one thing that I have gained since my divorce is distance and perspective. It has been six years, after all, since my marriage dissolved.

I remember feeling starved for the affections of a man a few months after our separation. I’d been ½ of a couple for so long that I didn’t know how to be single. Six months after Bob left I was feeling at my lowest. My family urged me to attend a conference that I wanted to back out of, telling me the change would do me good. I drove to the conference, which was 240 miles away, crying the entire distance. Once I got there, I had no time to think about my situation. There were so many workshops to choose from, activities to attend, and people to meet, that I found relief from the constant stress I was feeling.

On the second night I attended a social gathering, which included a Karaoke Bar. I joined a small group, singing back up to a really good singer. We had such fun, and I began to laugh and truly enjoy myself. Before I knew it, the night was over. There were only three people remaining in the room: me, another woman, and a man. I walked up to them and said how sad I was to see things end. The three of us began to talk, but it was late and I needed my rest. Reluctantly I said I had to leave.

The woman said something to the man, who turned to me and said he would escort me to my room (it was dark and we had to walk outside.) That’s when I took my first good look at him, and thought him strangely handsome. I say strangely, because in every way possible he looked different from Bob.

Like a gentleman he escorted me back to my room, answering my questions, and posing a few of his own. At the door he kissed me, my first kiss from another man in over 29 years. It was electric and surprising, surprising, because I was convinced that no one would ever replace Bob. When I saw him the following day, I handed him my business card.

Two days after the conference I received a note from this man, a sweet little missive stating how much he enjoyed meeting me and hoping he’d see me again. He wrote down his number, and said he would call me soon. We both took a long time to get things started, as he’d been hurt tremendously by his ex. However, we kept in touch, meeting for lunch or dinner once a month, and talking by phone every other week. When my divorce became final, we began seeing each other steadily.

I knew about rebound relationships, and I was quite cautious about my relationship with "N." In fact, it WAS a rebound relationship and it was doomed from the start, since our expectations of each other were unrealistic. However, he healed me in many ways, and I know I healed him. We were two hurting creatures when we met, distrustful of the opposite sex in general, but we were always good and kind to each other. We had a wonderful, fun filled relationship for four years and then it ended. Though the break up was painful, we are still good and loving friends.

So, in addition to viewing yourself as someone who is in control of your life, also try to keep your mind open to all possibilities. Don’t hide behind a thick wall. From the most unexpected source and when you least expect it, something wonderful will come your way. Don’t dismiss a new person or possibility right away because this is not what you wanted or expected.

A good friend of mine dismisses all options that don't fit her preconceived plans. She is a sad person with few friends, and very little hope for her future or situation. Yet from my perspective I see a woman with a beautiful home, two wonderful sons, and more talent in her little finger than most people ever hope to have. What is wrong with this picture?

Another friend of mine told me that she always dated a new man three times. If after the third date, things hadn’t gelled, then she broke things off. Usually, there were no hard feelings, as they'd had no time to bond. I like her philosophy. It means that she is keeping her options open and willing to give others a second chance. She's a younger woman and, needless to say, I think she'll go far in life.



Image from http://www.cartoonstock.com/directory/d/dinner_date_gifts.asp

Making your own luck

Making your own luck: What does this phrase mean? I'm no expert, but I have noticed an interesting pattern among my friends and acquaintances over the years. People who view themselves as victims, who create drama, and who expect the worst, seem to have no luck.

People who are in charge of their lives, who have a plan B, whose world does not whirl out of kilter because of a setback, and who are open to many possibilities, seem to create their own luck.

It's all a matter of attitude, isn't it? Either you view life as a challenge to be tackled head on, or you allow yourself to be controlled by others.

During my divorce, I could have chosen to view myself as a victim. Hey, plenty of other things have gone wrong in my life, but most people who meet me wouldn't get that impression. They see a lively, humorous, go-getter, and someone who loves to solve problems. They think my life has been a piece of cake, and compared to some others (the Lost Boys of the Sudan, for example) it has. But I have experienced many sad losses, some of them quite major and life altering. Haven't we all?

When Bob left, I could have crawled into a hole and just died, that's how awful I felt, but I knew that the only way to survive divorce was to just keep on plowing through and make the best of each day. Of course I had set backs. I am not super woman. But I also felt an unfamiliar surge of power as I faced my husband squarely, not backing down on some areas of extreme importance to me.

My advice to you? Stop allowing your ex or your ex-to-be to play with your emotions. Take charge of your life and review all the options you have. Even if they are slim, you are in control of your attitude towards the situation. Don't react to unreasonable behavior. Just turn around and walk away.

If you have children it is even more important that you take the high road. As a child of divorce, believe me when I say, they will thank you for your good judgment (and their good luck) some day.

To Keep or Not to Keep … Your House

A few months after my separation, I went to a conference. I struck up a conversation with a single divorced mother of one teen-aged boy. We began comparing our situations. She’d been divorced for four years, and I was going through divorce.

I told her I wanted to stay in my house, that I loved it and that I didn’t want to be punished for my husband’s desire to dismantle our life together. I’ll never forget that woman's advice: "Sell your house. It will become a millstone." She regretted staying in hers, she said, saying that on her teacher’s salary she could not afford its upkeep and that it was slowly rotting inside and out.

However, she and I came from different circumstances. As an administrator, I earned more than she did, for one. I do not have a child who is getting ready for college. And, most importantly, I own my house free and clear.

Even so it has been a struggle maintaining the house and finding painters, electricians, and plumbers as the need arises. My lifestyle altered drastically when Bob left, and I live on a fourth of the combined income we once enjoyed. I simply don’t have the skills to do more than minor repairs, and though I am handy with a paint brush, I don’t have much spare time to physically work on my house. My family urges me to move, saying a condo suits my needs much better, but I am not a condo type of girl.

I live within walking distance of the river and revel in the beauty of my house’s physical setting, the woods that surround me, the wildlife, and my quiet street. I live conveniently close to work and shopping. And my house is a bargain. I would be hard pressed to find a nice condo that costs less.

So, for the time being I’ll stay in my house. I have opened two of my bedrooms to Sudanese students-Lost Boys of the Sudan-who needed shelter and an affordable place to live. All I ask is that they pay a maintenance fee to cover their cost of heating, air conditioning, water, cable, phone, etc. Now my home is filled with life, and there's always someone to watch my dog when I work long hours or to help me with heavy work in the yard.

Each of us has to make decisions based on our individual circumstances. For that one woman, selling her house made sense. As you can see from this photo of my back yard, I'd be crazy to leave my tiny 1/2 acre paradise. Can you believe it is located a mere twenty minutes from downtown, and that's during rush hour. I think I’ll stay put for a few more years. I'm lucky, I realize, very lucky, but then, I'm also a firm believer that you make your own luck.

More on this topic later.

On Finding a Lawyer

I mentioned before that Bob said he would stop going to therapy if I saw a lawyer. Even in my shocked state I knew this edict was wrong.

I'm no dummy. Of course I saw a lawyer! He was Richmond’s best divorce lawyer, as he had been voted by a local magazine for three years in a row. His demeanor was cold, and his mind was cool and cut to the chase. I watched him calculate how many assets Bob and I had, and then dismiss me.

However, in one short hour he gave me advice that would guide me for months. I took notes. I listened. I paid his exhorbitant fee. And I left his office feeling empty and bereft. He had told me there was no hope for saving my marriage.


This is what I learned after shelling out $400:

• Do not diddle with another man.
• Get your spouse to commit to a settlement fast while he is still feeling guilty.
• Demand 50% of your shared assets, nothing less.
• Find a job, or get a degree, or both. You are on your own.
• Do not stir or roil the situation. Take the high road and keep your mouth shut.

The worst time to find a lawyer is when you are going through a crisis. You are grieving and feeling raw, and all of a sudden you discover you’ve got to make a thousand life-changing decisions. In order to go through this horrific period, you’ll need to depend on the advice of family, friends, and acquaintances. At the risk of repeating myself: CHOOSE your support group wisely. Identify the sanest, smartest people you know and ask them who they would contact. Don’t depend on one opinion, but poll a number of friends. Then make an appointment with several lawyers.

Remember to shop around. I interviewed (yes, interviewed) three lawyers. I never found one I liked, so I opted for arbitration between me, Bob, and our two counselors. The end result? The lawyer who reviewed my final settlement said: "You did better than most."

I remember feeling insulted when he said that, and here was my reply: "I know my worth. After 26 years of shared goals and responsibilities, 50% is what I expect. Nothing more. Nothing less."

More on this topic later.

Learning to be fabulously single

Being alone gets easier. Take my word for it. Three years ago I never thought I would reach this level of contentment. The restlessness is gone. The yearning to be someone's mate has receded. I am who I am, I like who I've become, I feel strong at my job and career, and I like spending the rare occasion alone in my cozy home.

Seven years ago I railed and ranted against being single. I yearned for those couples nights out at a restaurant or at parties. Each time I found myself alone at an event, I would secretly cry. Then, one day early this summer I realized that my fight against my single state was over. I was ... content, and at times deliriously happy.

I've had a serious relationship since my divorce. It lasted four years, and I experienced some of the happiest moments of my life while I was with this wonderful person. He too was smarting from a failed marriage when we met, and I like to think we healed each other. I am still friends with this man, because his friendship is worth keeping. We agreed on everything but one minor point: To stay together.

These days I hang around with my three girlfriends. We call ourselves the four divas. We're planning a trip to the beach in March to just hang around, shop, and eat fabulous seafood. We always meet for cocktails on Friday night to decompress after a long week of work. What a nice way to start the weekend! And we are so outrageous in our conversation, so fabulously middle aged, and so confident in our own skins, that I revel in our Diva-ness.

Edina and Patsy, those two lushes and druggies from Absolutely Fabulous, that outrageous British Series from the early 90's, have no clue how wonderful a sober female relationship can be. Or how divine it feels to be able to stand on your own two feet without drugs or alcohol or alimony, pay your way through your own talents, and make your own decisions. My life right now? I'm very content and often happy. And if a man should enter my life at any point? Gravy!

Fighting Loneliness

When Bob left the house was so empty I could hardly bear it. I didn't have kids or pets, so my modest 50's Rancher felt as silent as a tomb. A friend of mine advised me to turn on the t.v. "Keep it on in several rooms. It will give you an illusion that someone's in the house."

That was sound advice. I turned on televisions and cd players, and had them playing all at once. The external noise, however, didn't drown out the noise in my head, which represented my terror of being abandoned and of the unknown. But those loud machines made my house feel less empty and I kept them on.

One month after Bob left I began to crave affection and the touch of another being. My other good friend said, "Get a pet."

"But I have allergies," I answered.

She dismissed my concern and replied, "There are allergy free pets." Then she accompanied me to the SPCA after convincing me that a pet would provide the companionship I needed.

"I'll just take a peek," I said. "What are my chances of finding a poodle?"

In the last room, in the last cage, I found him. A tiny terrier-poodle mix. He was snow white and his long tail wagged so furiously it hit the side of his small cage. He sat in front of the cage, and with his eyes, tails, and friendly smile he shone so brightly I couldn't help but notice him. His ecstatic smile and exuberant body language begged me to choose him. I think we both fell instantly in love. Then I read the note on his cage: Cassio, 8 years old. From his entry date I realized he had lived in that small cage for over two months!

Then something - a noise or person - triggered all the dogs in all those cages to raise their voices in howls, barks, and yips. But not this little tyke. He stole my heart with his silence and calm bearing. I had to have him! As the years passed, I like to think that we chose each other.

When he was released from his cage the first thing Cassio did was to pounce playfully on a ball. His spirit had not been broken! Two hours later we arrived home. I renamed him Barney, a moniker that fit him perfectly since he resembled a tiny lamb.

We spent 6 happy and challenging years together (Barney had abandonment issues: Don't we all?)

This tiny creature healed me and I healed him. I will always be grateful to my little pooch for providing me with solace and comfort when I needed it most. Soon I began to turn those t.v.s off. With Barney by my side, my strength and confidence returned.

Moral of the story? I don't know if there is one, except that I advise you to seek something that will replace the emptiness in your heart. For me it was Barney. For others it might be a cat or a hobby, or more involvement with your family, friends, or children.

My canine friend stayed loyal and loving to the end. We adored each other and were inseparable. I put him to sleep in April after he had a stroke. He was fourteen years old at the time. Darling, darling boy. Oh how I miss you!

Losing Respect

One thing that surprised me when Bob left was how easy it is to obtain a divorce in this country. The legal system is set up to expedite matters, not slow the process down, no matter how long you've been married, in my case 26 years.

Even the lawyer I consulted about blocking Bob’s moves to dismantle our marriage step by step looked at me like I was nuts. Be realistic, he said to me, your husband doesn’t want to save the marriage. But I still wanted to put a brake on things, thinking he would soon come to his senses and return home. This is before I learned from a reliable divorce source that once a man moves out, taking all his possessions with him, the marriage is for all intent and purposes over.

I should have believed Bob’s actions, not his words. He promised he would go to counseling with me and actively work toward saving our marriage. To demonstrate his sincerity, he had even prepaid both our counselors for TWICE a week visits for a year. I only saw Bob during those sessions, not in-between. I later learned he was busy flying to his sister’s house in Buffalo every weekend to woo his new girlfriend.

Even through my grief and desperation I saw that grand prepayment for what it was: A self serving move meant to make him look good in the eyes of our counselors. Mine was fooled, but she had the good grace to apologize several months after the divorce. My eyes began to open the day of that prepayment, along with Bob's threat that if I saw a lawyer, any attempt on his part to fix the marriage would end.

I learned that you can love someone for 32 years and be married to him for 26 years and not know him at all. I also learned that when you lose respect for someone, it is easy to fall out of love. Bob’s actions and mean spirited words over the next few months caused me to lose all respect for him. The pain of separation and divorce still gripped me. But with each mean step that he took, came the realization that the man I loved was gone forever. His eyes were so cold, that the last time we went to therapy I barely recognized him. And I realized that so much of what I loved about him shone through his eyes. He once reserved the warmest, most loving looks for me, and I basked in that reflected glory. Back when we were happy, there was no better man in the world as far as I was concerned, and I was loyal to a fault.

As a friend later told me, "Through your eyes Bob was an interesting and perfect man. Through our eyes, he fell short." What my friends told me after the divorce about their perceptions of Bob amazed me. He had not stood on the same lofty pedestal in their world as he had in mine.

Would I take Bob back now? No. But back then I wanted him back so desperately I almost considered twisting myself into a pretzel to keep him. I’m glad I did not.

Creating Your Own Supportive Environment

This article in the blog, Creating Passionate Users, articulates what I've suspected for a long time: Angry Negative People Can Be Bad for Your Brain

The summer before my marriage fell apart, my ex and I were eating breakfast at an outdoor restaurant. At the table next to us were three people: two women and a man. One of the women spoke in a loud voice. We couldn't help but over hear her. She spoke at length about her rotten ex husband, the state of her divorce, the negative experiences with lawyers, custody battles, self esteem issues, and other matters strangers had no business hearing. She was so angry, she didn't care. Her two companions listened in silence, nodding, and eating their breakfasts. They looked sad and trapped.

After we paid for our meal, I commented to my ex, "She's been divorced for two years, but she's still living it like it happened today." Her anger was so palpable, it had put a pall over several breakfasts in that room.

In another incident, a former coworker would talk to me during breaks about her divorce and her cad husband and his remarriage. I listened sympathetically, asking a few leading questions and feeling so sorry for her. Her pain was real, and she would often burst into tears. After a few conversations, I ventured to ask, "When did you divorce?" She answered, "Twelve years ago."

I was stunned. Needless to say, I stopped enabling her. But the experience made me wonder: Why do people insist on clinging to such enormous pain, hurt, and anger for so long? Don't they realize that these dark emotions, if pursued for too long, drive others away? And that clinging to your anger affects your health and overall outlook on life?

I swore after these two incidences that I would strive hard to put my anger at anything - including my ex - aside. Has it been easy to follow my own dictum? It's been extremely hard at times, but I strive as well as I can to stay out of harm's way. I do not surround myself with perpetual victims and angry folks, and in my leisure time, I actively seek out laughter and fun.

I work hard at creating my own supportive environment of positive people, maintaining a positive outlook, and pursuing healthy outlets and activities outside of work. Am I always successful at it? Of course not. It's a process and I'm learning as I go. I do adhere to a set of standards. Let me explain.

There's a wonderful blog out in the blogosphere about divorce, but I don't have it listed in my blog roll. Despite all the good advice, humor, and interesting thoughts, the author keeps referring to her ex as an "idiot." Yet he is the father of her children! As a child of divorce, this casual use of the term doesn't sit well with me.

Suppose her children read her blog? Would they then think of themselves as the kids of an idiot? What an awful thought. Or perhaps she doesn't care that her children know. That would be even sadder. Divorce is tough enough on kids without their parents engaging in self-defeating name calling. And what is the point other than to dehumanize the other person? The problem is that after a while such tactics start to boomerang on oneself, reflecting on one's own immature outlook, not the ex partner's. Meanwhile, the children are caught in the middle.

This person, in my opinion, has crossed the line. Why not keep her opinions to herself? It would have taken almost as much energy for her to work on forgiving her ex for whatever transgressions he's guilty of and create a loving supportive environment for her kids, that would also include their father, as to maintain an active, ongoing blog. (As blog authors, we know how much time, effort, and creativity our blogs take.)

So I choose not to visit her blog or link to it. Reading it would make me too angry. I'll just keep plugging away, minding my own business, and actively working on being content and at ease with my unexpected single life.

Plan B: Always have one

Know why I rebounded rather quickly from my divorce and with my humor intact? Plan B.

I've always had one. Life's given me a few hard knocks, so I've learned to never count on certainty and to always be prepared.

Yes, but I'm happily married, you are saying to yourself. I am only reading this blog to help a friend in need. If that is the case, you should have a plan B too. One of my friends just lost her husband to a sudden heart attack. She was caught flat-footed, without a will, without her health (she is going blind from diabetes), without knowing where all the important papers are, and, as a full-time housewife for 35 years, without the apparent skills to search for a well-paying job.

Plan B means:

Keeping yourself employable and upgrading your computer, sales, or office skills, even though you don't need to earn a salary.

Updating your resume periodically, just because.

Continuing with your education, even it it's just for fun. I don't mean college. Adult education classes, art classes, cooking instruction, writing seminars will help to keep your mind sharp. You will also meet a world of people outside of your smaller circle of friends and acquaintances.

Making sure your insurance payments are current.

Stashing emergency money aside in a separate savings account. I have saved enough money to be able to pay my living expenses for three months should I lose my job. I am not a rich person and I had to live frugally for 6 months in order to achieve this goal. But now I have peace of mind. I also never overdraw my checking account.

Acquired a home equity line of credit that you can tap into ... just in case.

Applied for a credit card in your own name.

Written down an emergency strategic plan ahead of time, outlining the steps you will take in case you lose your mate to death, or if one or both of you are disabled for any reason, or if you lose your health, or find yourself on the wrong end of a lawsuit.

Sound smart and simple to do? If so, then ask yourself question: Do I have a Plan B in place? If not, I suggest you might think about creating one today.

Dating Pitfalls: Predators

My neighbor broke down in tears when I wished her happy New Year and asked, ”How are you?” It seems she discovered her boyfriend with another woman. Like me, Joan’s divorced and over fifty. She’d been in the relationship for three years, way past the casual dating stage and just long enough to get comfortable and hopeful.

She and her partner had bought property together. Now their break up has become so messy and acrimonious that she’s had to consult a lawyer.

“This is as bad as my divorce!” she wailed.

Not only was Joan emotionally devastated, she stands to lose thousands in loans and legal fees.

Another acquaintance, Donna, has sworn off men forever. She fell in love with a handsome charmer about ten years ago. He was a ton of fun and their partying was legendary. They were inseparable for two years, and she was certain they would be married. So certain, she depleted her savings to help him purchase some land and a car. Both titles were in his name. As soon as her money was gone, he left her. This man is such a snake that he’s repeated this pattern with two other women as far as we know.

My long-term relationship with a man ended after four years, but two years later we’re still good friends. I had lent him large sums of money (around $25,000) which he’s almost paid off (about $2,000 to go).

What was the difference between Joan, Donna, and me? Legal documents that spell out the terms of the loan and conditions and dates for repayment. I had also inserted a clause saying that if payments stopped for any reason, I would retain legal and sole title to the property. Late payments were subject to penalties, and we even made provisions in case one of us died. These legal documents placed us on equal footing and preserved my trust.

Was I simply lucky to have dated a decent and honorable man? Yes and no.

The men I date are sterling. If they do not meet my strict standards, I won't even consider going out with them. I've also developed extremely sensitive self-preservation antennae. Having been married to an accountant for 26 years, I’ve learned to be smart with my money, especially around strangers, which is what a new love interest is at the start of a relationship. If I were to fall and love and remarry, I would expect my mate to sign a pre-nup. In turn, I would be willing to sign one for him as well.

Donna, who has only been on two dates in eight years, has sworn men off forever. So has Joan. In fact, Donna has become so bitter towards all men that they steer clear of her, even though she is an attractive woman. Joan, in her intense grief and hurt, wants nothing to do with men in the future. I suspect her attitude may change once she feels less raw.

As for me? I love men. I always have. And you won’t find me bashing them in this blog. In fact, as many women fleece men as vice versa, accepting all kinds of expensive gifts before dumping them, so I am not taking gender sides. Having said that, I certainly don’t need a man to complete me or make my life worthwhile, but if I happen to fall in love again, I’ll be open to the possibilities.

As far as I can tell, the primary difference between me and Donna and Joan in lending money to our boyfriends was the protection of that legal document! It really is worth taking the time and effort to draw one up.

If your new love (or unmarried partner) balks at signing a legal agreement, claiming you don’t love them or trust them, take that as a big WARNING sign. Every honorable person I know would not hesitate to sign a legitimate contract when large sums are involved. That little bit of legal insurance not only helped to preserve my small savings, it enabled me to retain my friendship with my former lover and keep my heart whole.

Cartoon from http://www.fishlikefish.com/cartoons/bad.php

Middle Aged Enjoying Sex

The article from BBC News Health is about seven months old, but, hey, the message is good for those of us who are not ready to give up the nookie ghost.

Click here to read the full article.

Pay it forward

This weekend marks the 7-year anniversary of when my husband left. It took him one short afternoon to remove the furniture from our spare bedroom, move into to a one-bedroom apartment across town, and dismantle our marriage of 26 years. Seven years later the pain has receded to the point where I can write my memories on this blog without being haunted.

I recently read that this is the time of year when a large number of spouses decide to leave: Just after Christmas and New Year's. My husband had rented his apartment in early December, but he didn't want to spoil my holidays so he waited to leave until early January. Since he had barely talked or looked at me for several months, I don't think that the timing really made any difference. My holidays were spoiled already.

When talking to a neighbor who had just recently split up with her cheating partner, I not only saw the pain and grief etched on her face, I knew exactly what she was going through. Still in shock at catching him with his new girlfriend, she could barely face taking the Christmas decorations down alone. I am going over tomorrow to help her.

My, how things have changed. Seven years ago I hated to be alone. Now I relish having time to myself, and I slightly resent having to give up my precious Sunday afternoon. But I know how horrendous my neighbor is feeling. More than anything she needs someone to talk to about the situation and to help her stave off the loneliness, if even for a few hours.

During my divorce I benefited from the kind gestures of so many good friends, some of whom I'll never be able to pay back for their kindness. So I decided that when the opportunity presented itself, I would pay it forward.

Tomorrow is such a day.

The Healing Power of Laughter

Despite my overwhelming grief, rage, and sadness during the early stages of my divorce, I experienced unexpected moments of happiness. My short bursts of laughter surprised me at first, as if I didn't deserve such a wonderful emotion.

I'd be with friends and family doing something I liked or was good at, like tubing down the river, and be totally in the moment. For a short period I would feel like my old self again: Happy, bright, funny, looking forward to a the future, and liking my friends and myself.

These infrequent respites gave me much needed relief from the emotional rollercoaster I was riding and from the constant worry, fear, and emotional pain I was feeling. I could never predict when these happy interludes would occur. Sometimes being with friends worked and sometimes this didn't, so I had to learn to roll with the punches. I would savor the few times when a puppy or laughing baby would transport me.

It's a well known fact that laughter boosts the immune system, and that depression and grief supress it. A friend of mine attended laughter therapy classes to counteract the pressures she felt before she defended her dissertation. I found that a funny movie, like A Night At the Opera with the Marx Brothers worked just as well for me.

The night that I discovered that my husband was engaged to someone else (while we were still seeing a therapist to "fix our marriage") I called a friend and asked him to tell me jokes. Listening to his silly stories calmed me down. My pain receded a little and I began to laugh. The more I laughed, the more my head cleared. As my tears dried, my mind became sharp again. Within half an hour of learning about Bob's engagement, I could focus on what I needed to do, which was to call him and confront him with what I'd learned.

When he told me that his getting engaged to another woman was all my fault, all I could do was laugh. The situation was so absurd! At that moment I felt a powerful surge of energy course through me. For the first time since Bob moved out of the house, I had the courage and clarity of insight to talk to him as an equal and someone who was in control of her life. This clarity of thought and reason stayed with me during the next few days, guiding me as Bob and I finalized our divorce. Within two weeks he had what he wanted - his freedom.

More on this blog about humor: Humor Will Get You Everywhere

Loss: Divorce vs. Death

A high school friend recently lost her husband to a heart attack. His death was sudden and unexpected. It has only been two months and she is still in the throes of grieving. The initial shock has worn off and now reality is hitting her square on: He won’t be coming back. My words have been a comfort to her, as I know exactly what she’s going through, but then, after our last conversation, she said something that all widows and widowers eventually say to me - "You don’t understand."

Don’t understand? Of course I do! Divorce is a death. It also ranks right up there with the most stressful periods in your life. You go through the same grieving phases and you make similar adjustments. There are differences, of course.

In divorce:
1) Your spouse, though dead to you in all the ways that count, is still a living, breathing person. Just somewhere else.
2) There is dignity in death, but no dignity in divorce. Rituals and ceremonies are designed to help a grieving family go through the horrendous stages of the death of a loved one. Divorces are looked upon as messes and failures. In the media divorces are often the butt of jokes. And what I discovered, with some shock and bewilderment, is that you are expected to get over your grief rather quickly. Even before my divorce was final, my friends wanted - no, needed - me to be happy and normal.
3) In most instances, the widow or widower inherits everything, including house, custody of the children, and a substantial life insurance policy. There are no certainties in divorce settlements (even though in theory the laws are set up to be equitable), and lawyers seem to receive a substantial amount of your assets if there is a disagreement.

The first point I made, that your spouse is still living, seems to be the one that widows and widowers concentrate on. For all intent and purposes, mine was dead to me. He looked at me as if I was a specimen to be examined under a microscope. Since the divorce, I’ve had no contact with him and seldom see him. The two times I did, he looked at me with indifferent eyes. There was no warmth, no sense of recognition that we’d spent 32 years together (most of them happy), and no desire to share cherished memories. He'd moved on, and I realize that he rarely wastes his energy thinking about our shared past. The last time I fleetingly saw him, a small pang of separation and loss hit me all over again. In addition, when my husband left, so did his family. This felt like a double loss.

My attitude about death vs. divorce is this: Loss is loss. Yes, death is final. But the death of a marriage also has a finality to it. It is death without dignity. It means the death of your friendship with the most special person in your life. It is the death of your love and future together. In many cases it means the loss of one’s financial security. In my case it meant having to deal with a sense of failure, and having to face middle-age and menopause square on without a supportive partner. I could go on and on, but you get my meaning.

Some day my friend and I will have a discussion about these distinctions about losing one's life partner, and how much more we have in common than not. For now, I’ll let her grieve and I’ll just keep on supporting her.

Addendum: It has been almost five years since my friend lost her husband. She now recognizes that we both experienced significant life-changing losses, just as I predicted. It took her five years to land on her feet, and almost that long to realize that we have so much in common as widow and divorcee.

Facing your fears

Divorce is one of the highest stress-related events a person can go through. Only the death of a spouse or child rank higher. Having experienced extreme loss only a few times in my life, I didn’t know what to think of the physical pain that gripped my chest, my shortness of breath when I walked my dog, my inability to think clearly when someone talked too fast or too loud, and the metallic taste in my mouth.

I also suffered from what I can only describe as a noise in my head, which were my fears crowding in on me. Fear of being alone. Fear of not finding a job. Fear of the unknown. Fear of growing old without my husband. Fear of divorce. Fear of lawyers. Fear of being considered a failure.

There were so many worries crowding out all good and rational thinking, that simply fighting off my negative thoughts took all my energy. People were so full of advice, some good and some awful. The noise in my head (my fears) drowned out their words. I literally lived one minute at a time, waiting for the day to end so that I could find relief in sleep.

So, was my reaction normal? Having spoken to others in my situation, yes. That acute physical pain is real. The fears are normal. You just have to ride through this intense grieving period and concentrate only on the things you can control. Every time I took a positive step forward (like finding a job), the noise in my head lessened. We each react to stress differently. In my case, it took eight months before my head cleared again. It had taken that long to sort out my fears and confront them.

Divorce is Ugly Even Though You Try to Make it Civil

I’m no martyr and there were times when I wasn’t proud at how I lashed out at my husband in anger and hurt. I believe, though, that throughout my ordeal I behaved with as much dignity, class, strength, and courage as I could muster, given the situation. My husband left our marriage, it seemed, not because I had done anything wrong, but because he was looking for something "more."

If you met me, you would think me far from being a boring person. Neither was he. We traveled extensively. We had hobbies (he biked on weekends, I wrote and painted.) We had a large coterie of friends and threw frequent parties. We were demonstrably affectionate and loving to each other-laughing, talking about anything and everything, holding hands in private and public, and arguing with passion. We considered each other our best friend.

Interestingly, our friends admired our marriage, wishing they could be as close and open with each other as we were. But they’re still married. Go figure.

When Bob decided to leave I fought to keep him. I fought hard and bared my soul in therapy, but nothing I did or said or promised worked. It takes two to tango, but it takes only one to leave the dance floor and break the team up.

One lawyer I consulted told me from his vast experience that spouses left the relationship in two ways:

1. They did something to blow things up and create chaos, like cheat on their spouse and make sure they’re found out. These break-ups are usually acrimonious and full of anger, vitriol, and hate. This happened to another friend of mine: He walked in on his wife and her lover.


2. They leave gently, as in my case, promising to try to fix the marriage by seeing a therapist or by coming back after they've had "their space.". In my situation, my lawyer cautioned, I had a short window of time to capitalize on my husband's guilt. I should get as many promises in writing, as much monetary support, and the maximum amount of assets that I could before his guilt wore off.

I left the lawyer’s office feeling less hopeful than before. Bob had promised me a fair shake, but as time passed and as he began to listen to his girlfriend, his stance hardened. I realized I was no longer dealing with my husband alone. There was another person in the equation, but I only suspected it. Interestingly, left to our own devices we would have been civil, even loving. As soon as SHE entered the picture things changed. He became hard and even mean at times. In defense, I lashed out at him.

My lawyer was right: Strike while the iron is hot. Get promises in writing. Rely on your instincts. (I knew something was off, even though I didn’t have proof.) And take the high road. Your spouse may not notice your nobility, but your friends and family will. In the end their support, friendship and compliments propped me up and helped me to move on and begin my life anew.

On Dating

A friend of mine left her husband, Chris, about five years before my own marriage broke up. His reaction, understandably, was one of anger and pain, and he turned to his best friend for solace, a man he would go rock climbing with. They would also go biking or play racquetball, the typical manly stuff. Two weeks after his wife left him, Chris was having an affair with his friend’s wife.

The relationship had begun innocently. Listening to his tale of woe, she had tried to console him, and one thing led to another. The friend found out and all hell broke loose. In the end, Chris lost his marriage and best friend. The friend in turn divorced his cheating wife. There was so much acrimony that the kids from both households were deeply affected, having to listen to one set of parents bash the other set. We all stood on the sidelines helplessly watching this train wreck, asking Chris, "Why, why?" His reply, unbelievably, was that he couldn't help himself.

Chris’s situation leads me to rule number one in the dating game: Don’t date a friend, or the ex-spouse or significant other of a friend, no matter how lonely or hurt you are, or how much you are tempted. The repercussions are usually not worth it.

I have experienced this situation first hand. I began dating a man I’d known for a long while. He and his girlfriend had been very supportive over the years. They never lived together and after 6 years of seeing each other, it was clear that the relationship was in limbo. I asked my friend if he was every going to marry Lisa. He hemmed and hawed and mumbled something about her kids and his kids and complications in scheduling, blah, blah, blah. I had also noticed a distinct tension between them the last time I saw them together, which was three years ago. When I realized that I was attracted to my male friend, I disappeared rather than complicate matters. This was easy, as I lived in a different city.

Last year he drove through town on his way back from the beach. We caught up on recent events, and he mentioned everything and everyone except Lisa. We explored a romantic relationship for about 6 weeks after his visit, mostly be email and phone, and a few overnight visits. I assumed, because he is a decent and honorable man and because I wanted their relationship to be over, that he and Lisa were no longer a steady item. My girlfriends, when I voiced my doubts, were very supportive of me, telling me that all was fair in love and war. I wanted a relationship so badly that I went against my own instincts and fell head over heels in puppy love.

It took another few months for our romance to completely peter out. After our affair was over, I surmised from a few verbal slips (using we instead of me) that he had taken Lisa to some big events, such as a wedding and college reunion.

This short relationship affected the quality of my friendship with him. Where before it had been laced with humor, natural ease, and tons of affection, we are now quite polite with each other. And my friendship with Lisa is completely over. I had not seen her for quite a few years, but we had kept in touch through an occasional email and yearly Christmas cards. I cannot (and would not) be so hypocritical as to pretend that nothing had happened. Feeling an enormous amount of guilt, I stopped communicating with her altogether. This is the first time in over a decade that I have not received a Christmas card from her.

In the end, I wound up altering my special close relationship with one friend and losing another because of a short- term and ultimately meaningless dalliance. Was it worth it? In my estimation, no. Had I listened to my inner voice and maintained some control over my emotions, I would have realized how foolish my actions were.

We lose so many friends after a divorce. This is natural, as some people will gravitate to your spouse, or others will feel so uncomfortable with the situation that they drop completely out of sight. So before you begin to date someone who travels within your social circle, ask yourself, "What repercussions can I expect if we break up?" "Would other friendships be affected as well?" "Can I live with the consequences?" If you don't like the answers to any of these questions, then don't even think about dating that person.