Day 5: Resumé Writing, Free Pizza and Grad School

Today I have a huge, huge, huge celebration/win, and smaller, but still worth mentioning, win. The latter win was motivating myself to attended a resumé writing workshop during my lunch break at school. I was supposed to hear of my acceptance or rejection to graduate school today, and figured that I should start the plan of job hunting, yet again, just in case I wasn’t accepted.

I have been in limbo for far too long and decided that maybe I could spruce up my resumé, at the very least. It was challenging to sit through a lecture by a woman who seemed to be a bit behind the times, not only with her hair style and make-up, but her online application knowledge. Although I probably could have taught the class, I was glad I went. And as a bonus, the free pizza was tasty.

Now, onto the triple-huge win…Three hours later, I received a call from the dean of admissions telling me I was accepted!!!!!! I have been working my butt off trying to find a job for a year, and then applying to this program in addition. It feels so fucking (pardon my cussing) good to have something definite for the fall- a place to land!

I knew that starting this gratitude journey would help me cope with the possibility of rejection, and even though I am ecstatic, I’m sticking to it!
With Love,
P.S. And hooray for the first day of March!

The 40 Year Old Virgin


As I sit here, the day before my 40th birthday, I marvel at the last decade in all of its tumultuous glory.  With “the big day” approaching, I find myself constantly being asked how I am doing, or how do I feel about turning 40, or my favorite, “Are you ok?” The truth?…

I feel fucking fantastic!!!

Yes, my life is not exactly how I pictured it would be at this age. And yes, I am noticing new wrinkles on my face, a few more stretch marks, and new aches, as my body recovers a little slower from workouts. But because of all the hard work and learning that occurred in my 30’s, I am reveling with these new friend, as my badges of honor and wisdom.

When I reflect on all of the experiences and growth of the last decade, I am not only incredibly proud of myself, but I have come to the realization that my 30’s were really fucking hard!

IMG_6720I have raised two amazing daughters to the ages of 10 and 12 (with much more to come, of course); lost my identity, beat myself up with years of shame and guilt after a few affairs; walked away from a “cushy” marriage; suffered through bouts of depression; gained and lost over a hundred pounds, and then yo-yo’d a bit more; fractured my tibia where the ACL attaches; became a triathlete a year later; rebuilt my life; trained to be a boxer; got my first tattoo; owned my home without the anyone else on the mortgage; sold my home, when I felt I was damn good and ready; started my own business; had 5 jobs simultaneously; worked through anger, shame and guilt, and low-self esteem; rebuilt my life again, started a yoga and meditation practice; let old friendships fall away, because they no longer served me on my path; made incredible, new deep connections with friends; fallen in and out of love a few times; fallen in and out of lust many more times; rescued two rats and a pooch; healed tremendous wounds; learned to shoot a gun, left my victim story in the past, and so so much more…

Most importantly, I learned to love myself.


Out of all of my achievements, this is the one that ties everything together. Learning to love myself affects every aspect of my life and thus, my relationship with myself and men is the accomplishment most noted at the conclusion of this era.

While I still have so many dating and relationship stories to share, and I will get to them eventually, I have consciously made the decision to be on my own and not in a relationship. I have kept to this promise for 8 months now, and am beginning to deeply appreciate the benefits.

For starters, the last man I was with turned out to be a complete psychopath. In fact, the few before him fit that description to some degree, as well. I was even attracting crazy business partners who were women. At that time, I needed to take a hard look at myself, and instead of the self-judgment blame question of “What is wrong with me that I am attracting these nut-cases?” I asked the gentle, loving question, “What is the lesson I need to learn in all of this?”

The answer came as loud as can be:


So, I began my year of chastity and a no-crazies diet. Surprisingly, it wasn’t challenging. I thought I was going to suffer greatly each month, as my hormones screamed at me that it was time to go and get laid, no matter the cost. I found solace in a few good Netflix series, and spent my alone evenings with my imaginary TV boyfriends. If needed, I could always rely on my box-o-toys for a good release, but didn’t feel the need for that very often.


I actually found myself at peace during this time of cocooning, and was given the gift of time to work on myself and my relationship space in a deep way.

In the past, I have so easily given myself away to men, out of lust, or my deep, wounded 14-year-old girl issues, or the ever favorite, “he wont like if I don’t put-out” phenomenon (guessing that one is from high school as well). It finally sank in when my life coach reminded me that I am a soulful being, and a sexual being as well.  Anytime I have sex with someone, I can’t help but give a piece of my soul away to that person, whether it’s the hot, one-night stand with the ripped football player, or a weekend of ecstasy with someone I am deeply in love with. This begged the question of who do I really want to give my soul away to? Certainly not the douchebags from the past or any that cross my path in the future.

As the months passed, I began to recognize that I was ready to attract the right partner, and nothing less than that would do. Because my celibacy has lasted so many months, I knew that I would not allow deep intimacy with just anyone; I would not rush into any lustful or sexual situations, because I feel like a virgin again. And only the right man would be granted access to the temple. I was so excited by this premise, because my first round of losing my virginity didn’t go so well, and set me up for years of poor decisions and self-esteem issues.

And then the heavens opened up, as a bright light shown upon me. And I heard a distant “Ahhhhhh” in an angelic choir…IMG_1404

I get to lose my virginity all over again!  And this time, I make the choice to do it in a healthy, conscious and loving way.

And, thus (coined by a good friend), I celebrate my birthday as a 40-year-old virgin!

After a good laugh, I sank into the idea. I welcome 40 with open arms. I have no plans or expectations of  when and how I re-lose my virginity, but I do know it will be my choice, out of love and not desperation; and definitely not to please someone else.

And so, my answer to the concerned people of my turning the dreaded 40 is, “Damn straight, I’m thrilled beyond belief to turn 40!” I enter this new phase of my life with strength, confidence, wisdom, and most importantly, self-love.


Why Shopping for Men Should be More Like Shoe Shopping

women-trying-shoesAs I continue with this strange concept of dating in my late 30’s (and my latest month-long attempt at online dating), I feel like so much has changed since I was a teen-aged, hopeless romantic. And yet, the older I get, things actually remain the same. There is certain level of vulnerability that comes with this whole process, and it can be absolutely terrifying at times. We react in a multitude of ways. Some numb the senses with drugs and/or alcohol and welcome the party and bar scene. Some are so frightened, that they completely shut down their libido and convince themselves that sex and dating have no place in their busy lives. Others can take the next step and attempt relationships, but still become so paralyzed by the fear of rejection that they put up a wall and never truly let someone inside. Then there’s the vast majority that get caught up in the unhealthy mesh of entanglement with a partner. This is the place where the games are played; the games that stem from insecurity. Does he like me? Should I text him or wait two days? Should I wait three hours to text back so I don’t seem too available? The world of immediate communication and instant gratification has become a bittersweet curse.


This is where our vulnerability and uncertainty peaks, mostly because of lack of communication by one or both parties.Those relationships are the ones that deep down, we know are not the right fit. However, for some odd reason, we don’t listen to that wise inner voice of wisdom. We rationalize why this should work, and maybe even convince ourselves that there is a bright future ahead. We find it so hard to let go, and possibly make ourselves miserable in the process. Several times this year I have found myself in this situation of knowing deep down that a relationship wouldn’t work, but unconsciously, I waited to see what the other person would do. For whatever reason, I wasn’t quite ready to walk away, and when the guy started showing lack of interest, this hurtful upset covered me in a cloud of pity party-like depression. Wait a minute…why should I care if he isn’t interested, especially if I’ve already made the assessment that I’m not interested? Why am I so attached to his behavior? Why do I need his approval?

The waiting game can feel so painful. It would just be easier if men didn’t just ignore you as a way of showing disinterest like a 16 year old boy. Man-up and just call it off! Why do we still feel vulnerable when a relationship isn’t a good fit? Maybe the vulnerability comes from uncertainty of the fit. Can we be uncertain without being vulnerable? This is when I had the epiphany that we could apply some important life lessons to shoe shopping.

UnknownSo I pose the question, why can’t we try on guys like a sassy pair of sparkly pumps? Imagine it. You walk into Nordstrom, and there they are; a glimmering sight of beauty and elegance. The perfect pair of shoes catches your attention and draws you in like a moth to the flame. As your heart begins to flutter, you think, God I hope they have these in my size…please, please, please, pleeeeeaaaase! As the shoe sales person emerges with a pleased look and a box, you know the first task has be passed. The shoe is unveiled it all it’s glory. Like Cinderella, a sense of confidence washes over you with the knowledge that they will l fit, and if it doesn’t, then dammit, I will make it fit! You slip your foot in, and at first it feels pretty good. You get up and take them for a little spin around the store, just to make sure. A peak in the mirror displays this shoe as perfection with your complexion. You imagine all the places you and these shoes will go and all the amazing things you will do together.

Then as you strut back to the chair, you start to feel the slightest rub in an odd spot. At first, you ignore the discomfort and tell ourselves that it is just a fluke. But the more you walk, the more the shoe begins to grate on you. You want this perfect shoe to fit so badly, that you try to ignore it. Then as the pain starts to build, you try to convince yourself that you can tolerate the blisters that this shoe might cause, and it will probably break-in and be comfortable eventually. As your sexy strut transforms into an awkward limp, you finally come to the realization that this perfect shoe just isn’t going to work. You are temporarily devastated. You maybe even throw a mini-tantrum, but in the end you understand that the amount of pain caused will not be worth it, especially if these shoes are expensive. And while some may not mind the bunion resulting from tight shoes, many of us are not fashion before comfort kinda gals. So, you put the shoe back in the box, maybe let out a heavy sigh, and go on your way looking for a new pair. You might even decide to take a break from shoe shopping that day altogether.

For some reason this concept is entirely foreign to me when it comes to dating. Some women are fantastic at recognizing when someone isn’t a good fit. They are able to let go and move on without batting an eye. Then there is me. Maybe I just don’t have enough practice at this or maybe it’s a confidence issue. Or maybe it’s just exhaustion of too much shoe shopping. It is so easy to caught up in the lack of responsiveness, that it becomes all consuming. However, a good friend pointed out that how men behave is irrelevant, because the shoe didn’t fit anyway. Yet we find ourselves caught up and emotionally drawn in. Why isn’t he interested in me? Why hasn’t he texted me all weekend? You know what..It really doesn’t fucking matter! You don’t like him anyway!!! This need for constant approval from men only drains us of our strength and power. YOU are the only approval you need. So, move on and find a pair you actually like. Or better yet, go grab a latte and shop for a purse!purses