I made my first marriage all about my ex-husband. I tried to be the person he wanted me to be except what he wanted was always a moving target. Guess what? That's right -- after 19 years of tilting at windmills we became just another divorce statistic.
"What about you, Mama?" They ask, their eyes wide, their bodies bookended to mine.
I sink into the yellow couch, my feet tucked beneath me and really think about my life, my work and what is great within it.
Yesterday I was moving some dates around in my calendar and I realized that next month is my wedding anniversary. Just as that date seems to slip up on me every year, so too did these last eight years.