I’m sitting here wearing my SuperGirl jammies, with freshly painted toenails and a white skin mask on. Yes, I’m having an evening of self-pampering.  But tonight feels different than other ‘grooming’  nights - it’s the kick-off to my 10-day ‘vacation’ without my three kids.

This is the first time since I had kids, eight years ago, that I’ve had this much time off to myself.  And I’m not sure what to do with myself!

Since getting divorced, I’ve grown accustomed to my ex taking the kids  maybe once/twice a month, and normally they’re back within 24 - 48 hours.  That time off gets eaten up quickly - catching up on sleep, scheduling some much-needed ‘girlfriend time,’ working like a madwoman, then POOF!  I’m right back on full-time mommy duty.

But now - and for the next ten days, I not only have time to ‘catch up’ on my life, I can completely, fully decompress.  And RECHARGE.

A part of me is still in denial this is happening: my brain keepings throwing a list of things at me that I need to do PRONTO.  But then, then I remember - I’m alone for the next 10 days.  NOTHING is an emergency right NOW.

Already I’m doing a few things differently - for no other reason than because I CAN.  For example:

• I haven’t turned on the stove
• I’ve ignored the laundry hamper (I usually do one load every day)
• I took two showers and walked around naked in the middle of the day
• I blasted ABBA on youtube and danced in my office at 2 a.m.

And with that, I’ll bid you adieu - I’m going to go enjoy a good book!

Other Articles:

Getting Real: If You’re Secretly Talking To Someone Are You Cheating On Your Spouse?

Relationship Patterns: I Don’t Want to Be A Man’s Psychologist

Dating An Out-Of-Town Man - Is It Worth It?

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In my previous blog, I wrote about how I’d been chatting with a man who unexpectedly told me he has herpes.  I was trying to decide if I should even bother to meet him in person…

Early Friday evening arrived.  (I was suppose to meet him later)  All dressed up and feeling fabulous, I went, as planned, over to my girlfriend’s house for a vision board party with some of my great girlfriends.  And as the wine flowed and we dove into chocolate cupcakes, my best friend Hali asked me:  “SO…are you going to meet him later?” 

I smiled and shook my head.  “No,”  I replied.  “I figure it’s just not worth the risk.  Especially given where my head is at these days… If I were ready for serious I’d probably consider it.  But I just want great sex and freedom; not complications.”

I shifted in my bar stool and shook my head.  “I’m stll irritated though.  I finally meet a guy that I’m kind of into, AND he’s a Dom, but he damn well has herpes!  Am I going to have to wait ANOTHER year before I get to explore this Dominant/submissive stuff or what?  It’s frustrating!  Good looking Doms don’t come along every day.”

She replied matter-of-factly:  “You will meet another Dom Delaine - one who doesn’t have herpes.  I think the universe is just testing you.”

“Testing me?”  I replied whimsically.  “Or teasing me?”

“NO, you were being tested.  This scenario is no different from the kinds of tests you faced last year when you were running around with your heart on your sleeve desperately trying to find love.”

“What?”  I asked confused.  This made no sense to me.  Sure, when I first got divorced my attitude towards dating and sex was way different than it is now.  Sure I was frantically trying to fill up the whole in my heart and looking for ‘any’ man to give me a sense of self-worth.  But those days were long past; that insecure Delaine had grown a backbone.

Hali continued:  “Don’t you see?  It has everything to do with settling for less than you deserve.  A year ago you would have easily lost your Self in another relationship had you been given the chance because that was your habit - you did it all throughout your marriage and would have done the same again. If you’d decided to date this man with herpes and put you health at risk, you’d have been settling for less again. ”  She put her wine glass down at looked me in the eyes:  “At the core, this situation is no different:  it’s about believing you deserve the best and not settling for less.  You were being tested.”

I sat there moth agape.  Slowly,I began nodding my head; she was right. 

 Hali continued:  “The universe continues to test us Delaine.  No matter how far we think we’ve come, there are deep issues that we confront over and over and over again to make sure we REALLY got it.”  She smiled.  “And you ‘got’ this one; you passed the test.  Congratulations.”

I then spent the next six hours having the time of my life, chatting and laughing with my girlfriends.  “Yeah,”  I thought as looked around the room of my friends.  “He was a test.  And I did pass.  And this time tonight with my girlfriends was what I really needed, NOT a date with him.”

Little did I know that at 12:30 a.m. when I finally arrived home, the universe was going to ‘reward me’ for my choice.  But that’ll be my next blog:)

Other Articles:  Psych Yourself Up & Go Out Anyways!,  Why Women Get Divorced!  (video),  Survival Mode: Existing Post-Infidelity & Divorce

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On our nights alone without kids, we have choices: what to do, who to talk to, and most importantly, how to feel.  I will be honest with you - for months after getting divorced, I spent many a night alone grieving. The stretches of time in front of me served as feeding time for my inner demons and the processing of my marriage’s death. But now, looking over my shoulder, mental snapshots of that Old Delaine only serve as reminders as to how far I’ve come, how strong a woman I am, and how I’m truly OK with being on my own.

Besides talking to few girlfriends on the phone tonight, I’ve been totally alone.  And I’ve felt good.  In part that was due to a couple of glasses of wine.  (And no - it’s not a habit) But tonight, since none of my friends were available to go out, I thought “Why not?”  I’ll have my own private party - just Me, Myself and I. 

So because this was a party and alcohol was involved, it had to include some dancing - done in my office, with a bunch of my favorites music videos cranked high.  If anyone was watching me they’d have thought I was a total butthead…but I didn’t care.  I sang along at the top of my lungs and shimmied like there was no tomorrow.  It just felt so good to move…and to be in my own skin.

But towards 3 a.m. tonight, I came across a sad music video that moved me a great deal.  It’s in Spanish (by Shakira) so I didn’t even know what she was singing. But something in her voice and her eyes, something in the melody of the song really resonated with me.  And I watched it about 20 times.  Seriously.  

And it was the strangest thing - cause I didn’t feel sad as I watched and listened to it; for I had no tears to cry.  And yet some soulful feeling kept tugging and pulling on me - there seemed  a sensuality to her pain, a movement in her sadness of heart, that to me felt tremendously empowering.

A woman’s ability to feel is her greatest gift - though at times it seems her greatest enemy.  All life, all movement and change, swirl around her and she blends with it, both breathing it in and feeding it.   And whether she is hurting, feeling dynamite, or anywhere in between, all is captured and reflected in her soul.  And I realize that the suffering I’ve endured these past two years hasn’t stolen from me, rather added to me, making me more of Delaine, more multi-dimensional, and more solidly the real Delaine. That alone is truly worth celebrating.

K, it’s now 5 a.m. and I can’t figure out how to embed this video - but here’s the link to Shakira’s song, “NO.”

Shakira, NO

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“My ex-husband took the kids for the first time this weekend. And my heart is so heavy.”

This message awaited me from a newly-divorcing friend on Facebook this morning.  She was floundering, her free time only reminding her how empty and confused she felt. 

I read her message with a tight chest:  I remember…

Just over a year ago, my own divorce journey began and my-ex started taking our three kids for sleepovers.  I remember the surrealness of the First Time: carefully packing their clothes, writing out a list of activities and reminders, reassuring my kids with the biggest, fake smile ever:  “You’re going to have SO much fun with daddy.”

And then ‘he’ was at the door, lurking in the foyer, not invited in, but here to do ‘pick up.’   Me explaining a few things from the list, my voice too cheery, him not looking at me, while little feet scrambled around to put on shoes and jackets,  The tearful hugs goodbye, again more reassurances, that over-happy voice I used calling out “Bye!  I love you!”  Standing in the doorway, watching my kids walk away, waving and smiling as if they were going out for ice cream.

Then, stepping back into the house – into silence.  A silence so eerie I felt I’d landed on a different planet.  I put away dishes and paced around. I noticed every toy, every belonging of my children.  Here it was – the free time I never had as a single mom.  But it felt empty – ominous. Oh my God, this is really happening.  And I buckled to the floor in tears.    

I’d naively thought that making the final decision to divorce would be the hardest part of the journey – it had taken me three years to swallow that choice.  But of course, divorce is not a decision but a process, one full of many ‘firsts’ that eat you up inside:  like the ex taking the kids for the first sleepover.  Those first times are first steps, followed by second steps and thirds.  And oftentimes, without warning, you take two steps backwards…back into pain, back into the heartache from which there seems no escape or cure.

I sat down at my computer in a frenzied state of purpose: my girlfriend, my fellow warrior, had fallen on her path in the Wilderness of divorce.  And even though I knew that she, and only she, could navigate her way out of that hellhole, I knew she needed me – someone a bit further along the path - to help her regain her footing.   

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