After my divorce, I wanted to be better, not bitter. Loved, not lonely. Positive, not prattling on about how things didn’t turn out for me. Whining is not sexy and after age six, it’s downright dreadful, to be honest. Even before age six, but I like to try to give kids a benefit of the doubt until kindergarten. Wink.
I knew I didn’t want to be that angry chick at the bar pissing and moaning about her ex-husband.
What Motivated Me?
A million things, but one day, a girlfriend of mine and I went to a bar by the shore for a drink. It was a beautiful summer night, and a lecherous drunk dude kept bothering me. When he asked me out, I—
surprise—said no, and he proceeded to curse me out. Thank god the bartender told him to back the heck off. Once drunk dude quit yelling at me, he went on to talk about his “whore ex-wife.”
That was not going to be me I thought, in the middle of finalizing my divorce.