Three Years. Boom. 

Running out of the mediators office three years ago, I had signed the final judgement, reality slammed my face and so began life post-divorce. I ran because I was so scared. I panicked. Big time. Now what? 

Three years. 

Our mediator ran after me and in the parking lot that December afternoon, clung on to me. “Carin, it’s OK. You’re OK. It’s going to be OK.” Mediators are diplomats. Neutrality is the law of the land. In that moment, she took a stand and decided humanity overrid diplomacy. 

No ONE tells you HOW to divorce,  what it entails or how the process with churn within your soul, force you to look at yourself in ways you never did before. Attorney, mediator, paralegal – all will tell you the steps, what and how to prepare, present various scenarios, etc.  Yet your entire personhood is chartering a place no man or woman has gone before. With the exception of Captain Kirk and Spock, of course. 

New year, baby. An incredible ride, I’m ready to share my story, more of my TRUE self. If only to bring it to the digital page for myself, I’m down for that too. No fanfare, drumroll or special status updates required. Simply myself; a middle-aged woman who’s learned a thing or two about divorce, relationships, family, love and children. 

To be real is to be alive. Let’s go. 

BTW, you’re worthwhile. You matter. You rock. 



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