Does this scenario rings any bells?

Sue is the primary caregiver of her two children.  Her ex, Brian, is a part-time dad who pays child support and takes the kids every second weekend and one evening/week. 

When they first got separated, Brian was very concerned about his limited access to the kids; he wanted them as much as possible.  He also requested the ‘right of first refusal’ – that is, if Sue ever needed a babysitter, she would be required to call him first.

Six months into the divorce.  Things have started to change.  Not once has Brian acted on his right of first refusal.  And he’s often late or changing his scheduled time with the kids.  Sue hears about “important work commitments” and “bad traffic” and “a sudden business trip out of town.”  She accommodates him – after all, life happens and plans sometimes have to be broken.  Moreover, she feels a bit indebted to him -  he’s paying her child and spousal support after all…  (read more here)

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Wow.  OK.  So get this:

I’d just spent a half-hour talking to my lawyer around a flaming issue between me and my ex.  Under her counsel, I then wrote my ex an email (with shaking hands), and fired it off just in time to race out the door: I had to pick up my daughter from pre-school. 

Brain still stewing over the legal issue, I backed out of my carport and unconsciously flicked my CD player to Lady Gaga’s Poker Face.  On a whim, I jacked the volume up high  – like really high - and braced myself for impact.

I crouched over my steering wheel as the song hit my ears.  Legal matters flew out the window as my minivan shook to the song’s base.   Slowly I inched my way up my slushy back alley, feeling nothing but the pounding music and the energy in my body.

And then came the vision:  I was walking - no strutting - through a dance club like I was the sexiest, most powerful woman on Earth.  My aura said ‘don’t fuck with me,’ my eyes were straight ahead, and my high-heeled boots threatened to stomp on any man in my path… (Read more and add comments here)

Other Articles:  True Love…What is it - REALLY? ,  Angered by his Flaccid Penis,  ,  30 Years Ago, Would you have had the Courage to Divorce?

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Over the past couple of months, men from the dating site, Lavalife, have started asking me the above question. The question comes in various renditions, from a simple “STILL on here, eh?” to “I can’t believe you still haven’t been snatched up!”

Time and time again though, my reaction has been the same: to roll my eyes. I mean, do they think I don’t know that I’ve been on there for over a year?

Half-amused, half-irritated, I imagine shocking them with a reply like:

1) The reason I’m still on here is because most of you men my age are fat, ugly, and balding.

2) I tend to date younger men cause they’re hot and fun in bed. But we don’t have much else in common so I lose interest quickly.  (Read more…)

Other Articles: Internet Dating: 10 Expert Tips to Get You Started,  Should I Pursue Casual Sex More Regularly?,  

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Lena, 32,  is grappling right now; her head is swimming, her stomach’s in a knot.  She’s scared, she’s angry with her ex, but above all, she’s frustrated with HERSELF.  Why?  Because she’s still have trouble saying/admitting that her ex-husband behaves like a selfish, immature bully, even though that’s exactly what he is.   She can’t stand thinking this way about anyone; it seems so  unenlightened.  She wants to focus on people’s ‘light,’ and give them the benefit of the doubt…

Her best friend has listened to her defend her ex-husband for years.  “You don’t know all the good stuff about him,” Lena  argued.  “He has so many wonderful qualities.  He has so much potential.”

“Of course he has wonderful qualities Lena,” she’s replied. “You wouldn’t have married him otherwise.  But they don’t erase his Dark Side.  Men can be upstanding citizens and  philanthropists and go home at night and beat their wives.  Does all their altruistic work excuse their beating their wives to the pulp?  No.”

“That’s a severe comparison - he doesn’t beat me!”

“Not with his fists, but with his words and through other actions, ” she argued.  “And you need to stop making excuses for him.  He has to held responsible for all the choices he makes, all of who he is…”

Lena saw the truth in her best friend’s words, but even now, almost one year into the divorce, Lena grapples with ‘calling a spade a spade.”  

She says she over-empathizes, over-analyzes and over-sympathizes, to the point where she puts her truth and her Self at risk.  She fears being too judgemental.  She fears hurting someone else in her anger or selfishness.  She fears conflict.  And in the end, she bows down and put others’ needs before her own.

I wonder how many Lena’s there are out there.  Anyone?

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Yesterday, I received an email from a man who’d read a bunch of my blogs (on here and elsewhere).  And though he was ultimately in praise of my work, my eyes kept returning to the word he used to describe my writing personality:  ABRASIVE.

When I first read that word, I panicked.  I had to fight the urge to immediately contact him and start explaining myself, if not apologizing…   (Read full article here)

Other Articles:   Survival Mode: Existing Post-Divorce & Infidelity,  True Love: What is it - REALLY?

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You’re on the phone with your ex, courteously discussing a pending issue related to your kids or your divorce.  Suddenly, ‘it’ happens - his voice turns whiney and he starts singing the poor-me blues. Or maybe he throws in an unexpected mean remark.  Or maybe, just maybe, he decides to start venting - and you find you and your character under attack.

What are you going to do about it?  Get mad?  Get even?  Cry?  Be defensive?  I’ve done them all.  And in the end, they all yielded the same outcome: the pending issue wasn’t resolved and both of us hung up feeling more upset and angrier than before.  What the hell?  You ask yourself.  Why can’t he focus on the issue instead of using our communication as a way to vent/process his feelings?

This is where I step in as a newly divorced mother  to offer (wise) words of advice.  First of all, why he can’t control what he says to you  is NOT your problem to figure it out.  Trust me - the last person he wants to hear advice from is YOU.   Secondly, study the following five words and etch them in you brain:  LEARN TO BITE YOUR TONGUE.  Figuratively AND literally if need be.  The bottom line is that if he can’t ’stick to business’, for whatever reason that may be, your words are falling on deaf ears.  And not being listened to feels even worse than any seconds of pleasure you gain from retaliation.

I’m not saying you should be a doormat and just sit there on the phone taking his abuse;  NO, not at all.  You can calmly say, “You may not speak to me that way. Either call me back when you’re calmer or I’m hanging up.”  Or, if your instincts tell you this issue will not be resolved without emotionally battery, stick to, “You may speak to me that way,”  hang up, and then bring it up with your lawyer.  Please note that I DIDN’T say to threaten him with legal action.  Just bite your tongue, get smart, and talk to your lawyer.  Period.

On my divorce journey, I’ve rarely had face-to-face altercations with my ex.  They ‘ve usually gone down by phone, email or text messaging where we didn’t have to look each other in the eye.  Nonetheless, emails and text messages can be just as upsetting and easily turn to into a war zone.  Here’s how tongue biting applies using these mediums.

When you receive an upsetting or infuriating email, hammer out a response in the heat of the moment but DON’T PRESS SEND, the cyberspace equivalent of tongue-biting.  I know he called you a mean name, I know he’s being sarcastic and slanderous and acting like a total jack-ass.  But you don’t have to buy into it - YOU are the one who’s going to take care of business; you, my dear, are the smarter and bigger person.  

The next step  (and this might be a toughy) is to wait a few hours or maybe even till the next day before reviewing your response letter.  The first thing you do is go to the cc box and type in your lawyer’s name ( a fake address if need be).  Now, go back into your email and rewrite it in a way that portrays you as the level-headed, respectable woman you are.  Stick to business only.  Oh, I know that one sentence you wrote about him being a dead-beat dad feels good - and it’s the truth - but you will delete it anyway and focus on the issue at hand.  Focus, stay clear on the task at the hand, and bite your tongue!

You will be amazed at how quickly your ex will clean up his language if he knows a third person is privy to his emails.  Especially if it’s a lawyer - the fear of legal action is a great motivator.  Also, make sure you inform your ex that you save all his emails.  This might make him mad, but what’s he going to do about it?  Write you another mean email that he knows will go into the legal stockpile?  Believe me, he’ll think twice about his hotheadedness; at the very least, he’ll bring it down a few notches.   

Text messages are definitely one of the easiest, quickest ways for an ex to instantly blast you.  I’ve seen downright Text Wars erupt between couples that get so out of hand, they last for days.  My philosophy on texting the ex is simple:  keep it minimal, ie: only use it for minor details like alterations to the kids’ pick-up times.  I’ve come right out and told my ex that he should email me at home cause I usually don’t carry my phone.  And if he sends me a mean or cutting email, I do the cellphone tongue-biting equivalent:  I don’t respond.  Silence, my friend, speaks volumes in the land of text messages -  just as tongue-biting has a place in the divorce process.

Related Articles: Survival Mode:Existing Post-Infidelity & Divorce,  The #1 Thing I Wish Someone Had Told Me About Divorce

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So something happened this past weekend that she’s been hesitant to vocalize.   Why?  Cause she did something awful to a man.  No - like REALLY mean.  She thinks she might be going through an anger phase…?  Nonetheless, she’s putting it ‘out there’ cause she needs to be honest in all respects.

She’s dated this guy intermittently over the past five months.   They quickly became friends when their kids began playing together, and it didn’t take long for their mutual attraction to develop. Nonetheless, she clearly told him from the get-go that she didn’t want anything serious - this was just a casual friendship with a bit of (hopefully) great sex.  He eagerly said he was totally gun ho.

The first time they had sex, his penis was flaccid out of the starting gate.  “I always get nervous with new women,” he said sheepishly.   “And truth is, you’re way wilder than I’d expected.”  She smiled and pretended it was no big deal, choosing instead to get to work and make him rise up.  Rocket readied for launch, they had fun.

Four out of the next five times they were together, however, his penis was still flaccid at the start.  Frustrated, she brought it up with a couple of girlfriends over dinner.  “It happens to every man at some point,” they reminded her.  Guiltily, she shoved her annoyance inside.

But fast forward to last Sunday.  She was without kids, super pent up, and her body was screaming for sex.  No - like SCREAMING.  So how thrilled was she when he unexpectedly paid her a house visit.

But once AGAIN, as things heated up, she ravenously went down below only to find his limp, small penis.  “Oh for F*** sake!”  She thought angrily as she went about ‘things.’  But suddenly all her passion down below turned to fire in her chest; it was pushing on her throat.  She was either going to smack him, yell at him, or say something…

Climbing up on top of him,  she looked him straight in the eyes and said with complete disgust:  “Why in the hell are you always flaccid?”

Shocked,   he stammered: “I don’t know.  I mean, I’m turned on.  I just get nervous…and tired…You could make me hard…?”

To which she coldly replied:  “Well it’s a complete TURN OFF. ”  At which point, she got up, went downstairs, and ignored the sound of him upstairs making his way out.

Downstairs in her office, she paced and fumed.  She was horrified with what she had just done and yet she was so mad!  He’d SAID he justed want sex, he’d SAID he could ’bring it on’ and ‘rock her world,’ yet when push came to shove, he totally crumbled - not just once, but FIVE TIMES!  

She knew she’d treated him repulsively - truly, that was a really low-blow.  “But for God’s sake,” she thought.  “If the fire’s too hot, don’t damn well try and play with it!  Cause I don’t care about you bringing me chocolates and phoning to say you’re thinking of me, I just wanted SEX.  What part of that did you not understand?”

Her mind is totally at war over the whole episode.  It’s like a Good Girl/Bad Girl morality debate.  And even though she’s since called him to apologize profusely, a part of her feels no remorse.  In fact, that part of her actually feels satisfied for having spoken her mind.

Other Articles:  Psych Yourself Up & Go Out Anyways!,  Divorce Pain: Alone Without Kids for the First Time,   Disempowering Marital Sex

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“Hang tough Delaine - things are going to better.   You really are better without him…”

Many, many times I heard these words from girlfriends when I found out my ex was cheating.  I knew they were right, that at some point things HAD to get better.  But while in the throes of my grief, those words felt empty - nothing but sterile, void sylables.  For I felt like a shell of a woman…numb and shattered on all levels of my being.

I’d been betrayed before by men - in high school and university.  But the pain of marital infidelity was beyond compare.  We’d built a life together, had children, and I’d trusted him with ever ounce of my heart and soul.  How COULD he?  How COULD he jeopardize all we’d created together, stuff that was so meaningful and important, just to get his rocks off?

I couldn’t comprehend it.  It was a full-blown mind-body-heart attack that bludgeoned and shocked me to the core.  In my mind’s eye I could actually see my heart in two pieces.  My chest ached, the rest of my body felt entirely numb, as if all blood flow had been cut off.    I looked at the world around me through the eyes of a lost soul within flesh, cut off from my body’s sensations, imprisoned by my skin.   I couldn’t eat, weight poured off me, and I couldn’t sleep.   God…nighttime, how I hated it.  No matter how exhausted I was, my brain would ruminate incessantly, trying to problem-solve, so anxious to help me find my True North.  I just wanted to turn it all off; to curl up in my darkness of Rock Bottom and disappear.

But I kept going - I existed, and ‘did time.’  At the back of my mind a little voice kept saying, “Just - keep - going.”  I had no idea where I was headed and quite frankly, I didn’t even care - all I felt was numbness.  In my mind’s eye, I could see myself trudging, chin down, through a dark, hostile Wilderness, arms dangling, with the burden of my sorrow on my back.  But strangely, sometimes, from above the treetops, I’d catch a glimpse of my Higher Self;  She was still with me, I hadn’t been abandoned, and it was She who was pushing me forward.  And I wondered: had some part of me CHOSEN to arrive in this  hellish Wilderness?    There HAD to be a bigger reason for it all, didn’t there?

I still don’t know the exact  nature of that reason.  In fact, I’m still not even sure where I’m going.  But I know that time continues to be a saving grace and reveal things to me when I’m ready.  And looking over my shoulder, I have a new yardstick as to far I’ve come and how strong a woman I really am.  And I wouldn’t have learned these things had my world not completely shattered and forced me to reconstruct from scratch.

So with my body as my guide, and a smile that I can now feel, I continue onwards.  Through the ups and downs.  Over the hurdles and unexpected obstacles. This year of my life has been like a school of hard knocks, one of tough self-love.  And the one thing I know for sure is that I’ll never settle for a life of mediocrity again.

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Don’t expect to be friends with your ex.  Not at the start anyways.  This is what I wish someone, or many people, had told me.

I’m not saying you should expect to be enemies; no, not at all.  I’m saying you should aim for something in the middle - like a ‘professional working relationship.’  It should be polite, somewhat distant, but functional.  No more, but no less.

“But why Delaine?”  You ask.  “Isn’t it in our best interest to be friends?  Isn’t it in the kids best interest?”

Because I’ve seen the same negative cycle repeat itself over and over again with me and my ex, AND other divorcing girlfriends:  We start getting along well with the exes, it feels good…we may go the ‘extra mile’ for them in some way like drive the kids somewhere far away to meet them, or invite them in for dinner…and then IT happens:  a mini-bomb, some kind of comment or event that hurts us, angers us, and leaves us spiralling for days, if not weeks. We all thought we were ‘moving forward’, that things were going so well, that we were ‘big enough’ to move beyond the enormity of the divorce crisis…

But we are human.  And we are grieving amidst a huge life transformation - ALL of us are, exes included. And even though it feels good to connect with our exes, even though it seems comfortable in some ways (though in some ways it’s also strange), the bottom line is our sensitivity levels are high, and people grieve in different ways.  Each person needs the time, space and consideration to grieve in his/her own way and if that isn’t offered, if time isn’t allotted to the recovery process, it’s a countdown till explosion.

I really wanted my ex and I to be friends at the beginning for the kids’ sake.  I wanted to ease the transition into their lives, as any good parent wants, of course.  But two things I MUST point out: first, it is very confusing for the kids to have dad at the dinner table one night, only to then have mom in tears for days and ignoring him the next time he comes by for ‘pick-up.’  It’s no good for the kids to have an unhappy mom, period.  And even though we do our best to hide our sadness and anger from them, little ears pick up on our phone conversations with girlfriends.  Little eyes see when we’re vacantly staring out the window with swollen eyes…. You get my point, I’m sure.

Secondly, in my opinion, young kids (which is what I and my friends all have) are less resistant to change than we give them credit for.  Many of the fears I had around the effects of divorce on my kids were just that: mine.  Yes, I had to work hard to ease the change, yes, I had to ’get in the know,’ read books, and always monitor their speech and action for signs of emotional damage.  But children respond to how WE ( us and our exes) are handling the crisis.  If tension, criticism, and anger abound, they feel it, even if they don’t see or hear it.  On the other hand, if they see mom and dad smiling at each other, talking politely, and acting ‘professionally,’ their world seems safer cause mom and dad are showing kindness and setting a good example of how life change can and should be handled.

So this is the #1 thing I wish someone had told me about the divorce process.  Am I a professional divorce coach or counsellor?  No.  Do you have to take my advice?  Not at all.  But I do believe women (and to some degree, men) learn from each other’s stories.   And if I were sitting having coffee with you, what you just read is what I’d have said to you as a friend; one warrior woman to another.

Other Articles:  Fairytale endings: Movies Are Programming My Daughter,  Cheating Spouse: REVENGE!,  I’m a Single Parent…A feeling I’ve always known

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Keying his car doors.  Burning his clothes.  Emptying his bank account.  Posting photos/ love letters of his affair all over the internet.  Telling his boss and all his friends…

We’ve all heard the expression “Hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn.”   Infidelity is one sure way to bring it on.  Betrayal hurts like hell.

I’ve been on the receiving end of infidelity twice in the past few years.  The first time, it was my husband who cheated.  I was up late, nursing my six-month-old baby, while my two-year old and three-year slept in the room next door, when SHE called.  Needless to say, my world crashed to the ground in slow motion, taking my breath with it.  For months afterwards, I walked around like the living dead, like a dagger was bludgeoned into my chest.

Then it happened again.  Not with my husband, but with another man, a man I thought so great and wise and magnificent, that I thought the universe was smiling on me for having survived my husband’s infidelity.  But no…. another attack was forthcoming:  not only was this man having an affair the entire time I dated him, he had a baby with her; I found out two weeks before their baby was due.

I’m telling you this because I know the excruciating pain of infidelity.  I know how it rips out your heart and soul and makes you question everything – life, your identity, love, honour, trust…everything.  In your excruciating pain, vengeful thoughts burn in your stomach.  In your imagination, it feels good to DO something.  NOW.  To lash out, to reciprocate the pain.  To give him what he deserves.  How DARE he have done this?  How DARE he?

But I didn’t seek revenge.  I didn’t ‘give them what they had coming,’ though many hours were devoted to these fantasies.  Why didn’t I?

Because at the core, I knew such actions went against who I am.  That my thoughts were the illusion of a quick fix.  That in the aftermath of my vengeful actions, I wouldn’t feel good about myself.  That their affairs were a statement about THEIR screwed-up, self-centered character – and I didn’t need to stoop to their playing level.

I’m over a year out the other side of this last betrayal.  And I am so very grateful for the choices I’ve made, how I held my head high and stayed true to my kind, compassionate, loving self, DESPITE what both of these men did.  And I want women to know that how they handle themselves in such time of crisis DOES matter further down the timeline – TO THEMSELVES.  I now derive an immense sense of pride and peace from knowing I remained a good person throughout this insanity – it says a lot about who I am.  As far as I’m concerned, you really find out what someone is made of when the going gets tough.  And these experiences proved to me that I’m pretty fantastic – far more valuable than what I ever gave myself credit for.

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