I have learned to think of the end of the year as an opportunity to not only celebrate, but to do a proper reset for success in the new year.
11 months & I still don't like 2016.I am writing a year-end review, hoping it will cleanse my mind and welcome in the newness & hopefulness to come.
It became very obvious that my then husband’s family was going to be important to me. My mother in law and I became instant friends.
I have struggled with depression & anxiety for the better part of my life. I always cried easily & spent a lot of my childhood with my feelings hurt.
Divorce is a chaotic time. It is also an expensive time. I suggested that we seek out the work of a mediator in order to save some money for our kids.
So, if you already don't like me, why do I care what you think? Why do I do this to myself? I fear your reaction to my less than perfect body?
My self esteem, battered after marriage, has been in a panic for the past week over the threshold that I need to step over today.The photo studio.
This post is to celebrate the beauty of "the period". For all the nicknames we give it... "monthly friend" and so on... Here's to you, My Pal!
These stories are true. Two friends, similarly married with children. Both are married to prosperous men. Both are miserable.
Although I am under daily reminders of Snowmageddon 2015, Spring is almost here and every year, I make myself the same promise. By NEXT SUMMER, I will have gotten myself into shape.
As I prepare to sell my home, I have been going through the kids rooms, and the rest of the house.
We argued. Again. Divorced 11 years, and occasionally, we can still get in a good argument.
I bought a new lipstick in that is supposed to be Julianne Moore’s nude shade, according to L’Oreal. So, of course, I want to be like Julianne Moore.
Tomorrow, between 11-1, I am getting a new mattress delivered. Honestly, it was out of need, but there is actually a really long emotional string that will be cut when it is removed from my bedroom tomorrow.
A simple “pain in the neck” turned into mildly emergency surgery and like many single moms, I took my sweet time heading to the doctor.