Over the past year, most of my divorcing friends have found new partners and seemingly established lovely new lives. And I’ve wondered: Why is it taking longer for me? I mean, I crawled and slashed my way out of Rock Bottom, diligently performed my internal housekeeping, and grew and stretched spiritually in so many positive ways. So why, in the grand scheme, was the universe clearly stating I wasn’t ’ready’?

But now, as my second year post-divorce wraps up, I almost have to laugh at my impatience. Only now can I see that I wasn’t ready at all. And it’s a wonderful reminder to me that even when we’re convinced that we want something NOW, there really is a master plan at work, unfolding events at a speed that has our best interest in mind. *(read more here)

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Chaos.

The external components of my life keep shifting…giving way…breaking. 

In my mind’s eye I see the support beams of a house built over water, cracking…adjusting…dangling.  Yet I know, I know that that house is ME: my bones, my soul, my reality.  (read more here)

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I recently received a letter from a woman in doldrums over this situation.  She’d dated a man a few times and their mutual attraction was nearing detonation.  But the ‘first-time’ hurdle still lay on her horizon - she hadn’t slept with anyone since she got separated.  Anxiety, excitement, fear… the next step would be a BIG one.  But low and behold, the day before the big event was to transpire, her period showed up.

“Should I still meet him?”  She asked me in her letter.  “I’m afraid it might make the situation more awkward than it already is.”

First off, I was frustrated for her: waiting so long to meet someone, a sizzling opportunity within grasp, then boom! -  fantasies of wild abandonment choked.  Grrrrr.  

 I recommended she go ahead and meet him and decide in the moment if it felt right.  They were openly communicating about it and his attitude was one of  “Oh well, we’ll manage.”  I thought his answer was cool.  After all, he wasn’t some inexperienced twenty year old, he was a grown man who’d been married (then divorced) for years.  He knew better than to make a big deal out of it. 

Still my stomach knotted at what the word ‘manage’ meant to him - would he be passionate and uninhibited and tender?  Or would it be a rushed get-it-in-there-cause-that’s-all-I-can-kind of experience?

Man, this dating/sex thing after divorce thing sure can be daunting, at times making us feel as insecure as college students.  So I’m throwing this “first-time-with-period” situation out to you:  Would you?  Have you?  Are they ever good?  Or does it totally depend on the open-mindedness and comfort of the two people?  I know it’s a pretty big deal to many women…but is it to men?

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I wasn’t looking for him.  He was totally unplanned.  But our emails progressed so quickly – naturally – that now, one month into our daily correspondence, his purpose in my life has emerged:    

The universe has deliberately brought me a Good Man.  Not to be my partner, nor champion of life dreams.  But to help restore my faith in men. (read more & add comments here)

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A girlfriend of mine says she’s fallen in love.  She’s met him only three times – he lives thousands of miles away in the United States.  She talks now of how she plans to move there at the end of the year.  She will find a new job.  Move away from her family.  Her eyes go soft and dreamy as she talks about their future… in her mind, he’s The One.

I love this woman.  I love her like a little sister.  She’s only 27-years-old.  I know how badly she wants to find the Real Thing, how much she wants children, and the family dream. 

Yet I am torn…

(Read more and add comments here)

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It’s a feeling under my skin - one that has gradually started pushing to the surface this past year.  It tells of love, despair, mischief, and adventure.  It comes from sharing, loving, losing, marrying, birthing, trying harder, bleeding, and celebrating.  It’s a feeling that tells of surrendering and letting go, pushing forward, and living NOW:  I am becoming “A Woman with a Past.”

When I say that sentence out loud, ‘with a past’ doesn’t drag behind the ‘Woman’ like a heavy, iron chain.  In my ear, it is melodic, the tail end swoops upwards, like a swirl, like a spiral of color, to show the vastness and bounty of my spirit and life experiences.    (read more and leave comments here)

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My best friend Hali then put her wine glass down on the restaurant table and continued: “So when are you going to stop ‘proving it’ and move BEYOND it?”

I looked at her confused.  “Huh?”

“You’ve done it Delaine - you’ve shown everyone that you can live just fine without a man.  You’ve taken lovers on your terms, you’ve made hard choices, well-made mistakes and you’re all the stronger for them.  You’ve even rebounded from your job of eight years as a stay-at-home mom to start a great new career as an author.  And all of that is fantastic, and I applaud you louder than anyone else for how far you’ve come.  BUT – “… (read more and add comments here)

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Almost all women at some point in their lives attract a ‘bad man’; some of us marry him.  And by ‘bad,’ I’m not simply referring to men who are drug lords, pimps, or wife abusers.  No, “bad men” are regular men who don’t treat us and love us as wonderfully as we deserve.  They are, as author Sarah Breathnach puts it, “spiritual disgraces sent in disguise to teach us, through torment, to love ourselves.”

It can be hard to identify the spiritual ‘gifts’ our bad men have brought us – especially if they cheated and left us for another woman.  When everything first erupts, we’ll say they’re ‘bad’ and mean it literally, venomously, blamefully…(read more and add comments here)

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That question that made me sick to my stomach when I first separated from my ex. After all, I’d been a stay-at-home mom for eight years. My professional skills were rusty, my confidence low, my fears at an all-time high.

Luckily, I got three years of spousal from my ex in our divorce – I knew I had some time to figure my life out. And boy did I need it – my heart was broken, my choices were questionable, and everything within me and around me felt upside down.

Then one day, in January 2008, I decided to use my writing to free me from my past; I started writing my memoir. I had no idea how to do it, nor did I have any idea if one day I’d sell it. I just needed to write, to figure out the insanity of my life, and FINISH something; something that was all about me.

Five months later, there it was: a three-inch stack of paper on my desk. My completed manuscript. And I cried; I celebrated. Even if no one else ever read the darn thing, I HAD WRITTEN A BOOK. I wasn’t JUST some stay-at-home mom after all.  (Read more and add comments here)

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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)

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