The Have a Quickie Blog

I’m reading a wonderful book by Dr. Sue Johnson called HOLD ME TIGHT. Based on Emotionally Focused Couple Therapy (EFT)–scientifically regarded as one of the most successful forms of couples therapy.

Her idea is beautifully simple.

Forget about learning how to argue better, analyzing your early childhood, or experimenting with new sexual positions. Instead, you must recognize and admit that you are emotionally attached to and dependent on your partner in much the same way that a child is dependent on a parent for nurturing, soothing, and protection. EFT focuses on creating and strengthening this emotional bond by identifying and transforming the key moments that foster an adult loving relationship.

Now we’re talking!!! What does a couple have if they aren’t emotionally connected? Sever that connection and everything else (committment, fidelity, closeness, love) will vaporize. Or perhaps, another scenario occurs–a couple co-habitates, sharing a house a dinner table, childrearing, and chores, but little else. And, wow, doesn’t that sound like fun?

Mark and I know far too many couples in this place. They are “passers” who manage to look like a regular couple in public, but scratch at the seemingly happy surface and there’s nothing there. Or what’s there is festering because the deep, real connection is overlooked and ignored. No one’s reaching out. Or one person is reaching out, but the other isn’t reaching back. And let me tell you, this is when the affairs start.

Alright, that’s the bad news. The good news is this. Just like healthy cells can regenerate in a sick body, a couple can rebuild their emotional well-being. They can not do it just by wanting it to happen but continuing to ignore each other. They also can’t do it by fighting about it and thinking that’s a good way to address their partner’s issues. They can do it by listening to each other in a thoughtful, focused way.

Our suggestion of 10 minutes a day should get you started. If you do nothing else, set aside that much time to hold your partner’s hand, look into their eyes, and connect. If you don’t know what to say when it’s your turn to talk, say this.

I miss you. I want you in my life. I’m sorry we’ve drifted.

Then do that again, until you’re both saying it. Until you both believe it. Until you feel that invisible string connecting your hearts feeding on this desire and intent. Until you know that string is finally starting to grow back.

 Has it taken this long for someone to come out with a study?

 According to the Council on Contemporary Families, men who do chores get more sex. Do I hear a collective duh! from women across the country? Allow me to chime in. Duh! Duh! Super double, devil-dog duh!

 My sexiest moment this month was when Mark sauntered into the bedroom, dishtowel swinging from his belt, swagger in his hips. I was snuggled up plowing through ATONEMENT, but when Mark gave me that come hither look and in a low, husky tone said, “Dishes are done,” I fell swoon.  I dropped my book and pulled him close, sniffing his fingertips for rubbery smell of dishgloves and lemon-scented Joy–an aphrodisiac like no other.

 This really is how it works, men. We want you to go out and do manly things. Hunt your woolly mammoths, shoot hoops, and prove yourselves in the world. But then come home and do the dishes. Don’t do it just to get more sex, but don’t be surprised when that happens.

 Of course, while you’re filling the dishwasher or running the vacuum, we might not be home. We might be out in the world doing our own brave and important things. And that should be all the more incentive for you to notice the housework and pick up the Swifter. We’re all in this together now.  There’s less his and hers than ever. Act like you’re above it, and you can just keep hanging out in the ranks of the resentfully un-laid.

Conversely, women, consider this. I spent hours shoveling my way through this past New England winter. The earliest riser in the family, I was often up before Mark and ready to greet all those blizzards with oversized skipants, an itchy hat and my ergonomically-balanced snow buster in hand. It wasn’t a blast, but I did it. And when I came in, you’d think from Mark’s face that I just hunted the woolly mammoth. Men appreciate it, too–when it’s not assumed that the division of labor should fall along some sexist lines.

Whether you realize it or not, sharing chores willingly is all part of the communication process.  It’s telling your partner–if not in words, than in deed–that you are a full participant in the relationship and want to work together at all levels. It’s sexy. It’s appealing. And it’s also just dishes.

Get washing.

Here in New England, the denizens of Patriot nation remain in a dysfunctional state of disbelief after last night’s highly unexpected Super Bowl loss. We were so ready to feel great about ourselves and start bragging about the perfect season, but instead, we moped home from our Super Bowl parties, sad, confused, and numb.

Which leads me to think that sports fans, men in particular, REALLY need some better outlets for our emotions.  If that could be you, try asking  yourself a few questions:

-Does your team team losing cause you to toss and turn all night, replaying the game in your head thinking if they had only done that or maybe that…?

-Do you find that not winning the championship requires you to go through the stages of grief outlined by Kubler-Ross (e.g., Denial, Anger, Bargaining)?

Sometimes? Maybe? Yes? Then most likely something else is troubling you and you are channeling it into your despair over the Ravens, Reds, Rockets, or Red Wings.

As my wife will attest, I have died with the Red Sox and been re-born by the Patriots. I know what it means to care so passionately that every radio in the house is tuned to the 24-hour sports station. I have idolized David Ortiz, imitated Tom Brady, and worshipped Michael Jordan. So that’s not me sitting in judgment of the sports enthusiast or even certified sports nut. I am one.

However, I’ll ask you to think about this fact: Many men report that championship victories are as emotionally powerful as the birth of their children and more powerful than their weddings.  

Woah! If someone gets their greatest highs when their team wins and their deepest funks when their team loses, trades a favorite player, or suffers a devastating injury at a key position, then their emotions are simply the vicarious by-products of other people’s actions. And that’s just wrong. 

How about this instead: Go figure out what would really make you happy. More friends? Greater recognition at work? A spouse that can’t wait to seduce you? One that you want to seduce?

And what’s troubling you?  Would you like a better relationship with one of your parents? Have you chosen a career path away from your real interests? Are you just plain lonely or bored a lot of the time?  THESE are things to ask yourself when you are obsessing about the lineup for the next game or what team shirt you need to buy. 

And then you need to talk about this stuff with your significant other.  Sure you can tell them how bummed you are that Duke just creamed Wake Forest. Again. But push yourself to look at how the intensity of your caring about a relatively minor event may be covering up emotions about things that actually affect your life. Is Clemson’s national ranking really more important than your relationships with people in your family, or is it just easier to focus on because it’s NOT that important? Then you probably need to talk about the people in your family.  Talk about how a boss’ decision upset you rather than how a coach’s decision ruined your day.  And, please, get more excited about goofing around with your kids than about watching the 63^rd game of the regular season, regardless of who your team is up against.

Well, I hope this have given you some ideas to think on.  Now if you will excuse me, I am going to go take off my tear-stained Tedy Bruschi jersey and put on my Paul Pierce pajamas before I go to bed. I hope we all get some sleep tonight.

I’m not a fan of the New Year’s Resolution but I’m a huge believer in making changes. So, hey, if it takes a change of date to shake up your life, then go with it. Get inspired however you can. 2008 look out.

I do, however, support Sexual Resolutions–commitments to bettering your couplehood, rather than crusing along on some vow that you made when young and drunk with desire. Because everything you believed a few years ago, is going to change and bliss and desire might not last as long as you both shall live.

Though it might last as long as you both shall work on it.

So that’s the point. For a relationship to work, you need to work on it. If you get derailed and then linger in that place of upset and isolation, nothing good is going to happen. Stand-offs stink. He’s mad. She’s mad. Everyone is mad. The kids–if you have them–are heartbroken seeing their parents fight. You’ve got to do something.

Here’s what I do when Mark and I fight. I dream about divorce. Yeah, I think about how much better off I’d be without him. He could even keep the house and I’d get a cute little rental in Cambridge near Harvard Square. We’d share custody and divide holidays. I’d date some new guy–lots of them, maybe–who understood me deeply, read classic literature and hated golf. Mmmm. Bliss.

Well, no. There is not a lot blissful about a broken family. In fact, I just came from the school playground when I was talking to a dad who is getting a divorce he doesn’t want. He looked at me and said, “Do you know how lucky you are that your family is in tact?” I looked back, not sure how to respond. And instead of giving some flip answer about never getting to kiss someone new, I just nodded and said, “Yes, I actually do know.”

And you should, too. You have somebody sharing your life. You can hang out, laugh over Seinfeld re-runs, eat tacos in bed. But it’s not always easy to keep it functioning well. So here’s something to think about. I believe many good things in life work on this principle that I call letting in the light.

When your relationship feels dark and heavy, when you can’t find the power to believe in it, when the tunnel of marriage seems endless and blocked, let in some light. Even if it only feels like a gesture, reach for some connection with the person you love.

You can initiate a conversation that has nothing to do with what an ass they’ve been. You can bring him a flower and leave it on his pillow. You can call her at work and say you miss her. And when the person doesn’t repsond exactly how you want them to, you can take a deep breath and not give up. This is your life we’re talking about. Let in a little light and see if the whole room doesn’t start to look a whole lot brighter. Even if it hurts your eyes at first, you’ll adjust.

And when you’ve started to move toward each other again, make a resolution that for all of 2008 you’ll keep going. 

Happy New Year.

On the front page of today’s New York Times is an article revealing how a couple’s fighting style effects them physically. For men, keeping quiet during a fight didn’t have any measurable effect on their health. But women who didn’t speak their minds in those fights were four times as likely to die during the 10-year study period as women who always told their husbands what they were thinking.

Got that? FOUR TIMES AS LIKELY TO DIE if you don’t speak up! Yikes. In the interest of my own health, it makes me want to go yell at Mark–even though I’m not mad at him.

And what exactly are these “self-silencers” suffering from? Well, they say women who stay quiet can end up with depression, eating disorders and heart disease, confirming what we’ve always kind of known. That swallowing negative emotions and shutting down isn’t good for us (well, us women) and that it is actually healthy to tell our men off now and then, particularly if it is deserved. I’m not advocating nagging. No, not that. I’m talking about saying that something is bothering you when it is. Getting it out. Talking it through. Well, after you have a good shout.

I know those women, plenty of them, who do suck it up, claiming that they’re just trying to keep the peace. Or they fear their volatile husbands and are simply afraid to speak up. You know them, too right? Those women who do and do and do some more. And even when their husbands stop, they keep doing. Quietly. They are often the women who work outside the home and still carry out about 80 percent of the household chores. They take care of the kids, fill out the PTO forms while putting in the 12th load of laundry. They call the sitters, pay the bills, make the social plans and are forever sucking it up, even if they need help.

I’m delighted to report that I don’t fall into this category, but I can see how easily it can happen. Sometimes the path of least resistance really is the easy one. Sometimes, it’s probably even the right one. But apparently it’s not the one to regularly tread.

Because in the end, where does all that sucking it up get you? Resentful. Overtired. Grouchy. Yes, all of those. And, now, you can add to that list: into an early grave.

Hello after a month-long absence from blogging. Let me explain my quiet.

 Something funny happens in my family on the first hot, aimless days of summer. Some people live for this free and, so-called, easy season. Not me. It’s like my whole family gets botched up by the suddenly loose structure in our lives and we don’t quite know what to do with ourselves or each other. My son gets moody. My daughter gets a little mean. And all of my good mothering sense gets sweated out in one sticky July afternoon on the playground. It’s like I fry the piece of my brain necessary for paying attention to children.

Not only that, Mark and I think we occasionally should be kicking back at night–enjoying our own sweet summer sweat–but instead we’re getting cranky because of late bedtimes that eat into our together time. Here we are in week four of summer and I’m ready to do the back-to-school shopping. Where are those Sunday circulars anyway? I mean, my head really wants autumn.

But since that’s not happening, here’s what is.

My kids started camp today. One manageable week of day camp at their public school. They are familiar with the other kids in the camp. They could navigate the school building blindfolded. They get to swim the day away in the nearby reservoir then play a few games. And still they were both clearly freaked out by walking the 5 blocks down the street to camp. CAMP.

 Oh my God, I remember my first day of YMCA day camp at Holiday Ridge. I was nine and had to pull my shy older sister down the street to catch the bus with 35 strangers. Then when we got there, I had to pretend I was having fun for the next two weeks of crafts and swim lessons, also known as torture by crawl stroke. Camp stunk, but I didn’t have anyone to tell. Even if I couldn’t actually wrangle my way out of going, I needed a caring adult to listen to me moan about the meanie counselor, the stinky changing rooms and the crawl stroke.

Our kids need us to listen to them about what gets hard, where they feel sad, scared, terrified or (they probably won’t use this word but they might need to express it) oppressed. Yes, oppressed. Sorry, but adults oppress children all the time. Our children need to be able to say, “Mom, Dad, I’m scared to go to camp or I’m not so sure about this soccer thing you signed me up for” without us saying, “There there. You’ll have fun. You’ll be with your friends. Don’t be scared. Be quiet.” 

Let your kids be scared without trying to shut them up. Listen to them, if only for (sound familiar) five minutes in which you don’t tell them how they should feel.

Try this. One child at a time, snuggle up next to him or her and let them know you’re there. Be silly and light, don’t treat this as a serious, sit-down heart-to-heart talk about their emotional well-being. Laughter is the easiest access to a child’s emotions. Get them laughing a little with you, but please no tickling. That’s a worse form of torture than the crawl stroke. Then in a light way say, “What’s going on?” and see what comes of it. Listen to what they are telling you, emphasis on the listening. This is time to give advice or tell your kid what to feel. This is you letting your child have his or her feelings about whatever.

It’s the summer so maybe they need to talk about boredom or missing their friends. Maybe, if you’re lucky, they’re in a great place of relaxed and happy and they want to share that, too. Some children will want to beat their parents up and, if you can lightly play wrestle them, letting them win, do that. For children, having some physical control over their parents can be hugely empowering.

And that’s it. Kids aren’t like adults who often freak out about opening up, about emotion. Typically, if you listen carefully, kids will be thrilled to show themselves to you. It’s summer. It’s camp season. Don’t insist on happy. As parents, let’s take five minutes and see what’s really going on.

I got a little stuck this week.

Circling each other in an impressive duet of morning rituals, Mark and I discussed a blog entry. He suggested lack of affection in married couples. I felt more inclined to write about sex and sexism. I was, afterall, pouring Cheerios and making tuna sandwiches for our two children while Mark prepared for his grown up job as a psychologist at a psychiatric hospital. Might I add, we had not kissed good-morning when we woke up that day.

 But neither topic felt good, perhaps (no definitely) because I was feeling the effects of sexism while he was feeling the fallout–a lack of affection. This is a problem endemic to all heterosexual couples and yet how often is it discussed?

So, let’s look at it for a moment. Sex and sexism and lack of affection. What totally not-fun but important, interconnected concepts.

For a hetero couple to pretend they have ducked the sexism bullet is just delusional. It’s a nasty, ugly, icky and insidious institution that slams girls with expectation of how to be from the moment they are born (pink anyone?), and it sets boys up to perceive women in all sorts of dehumanizing ways (porn anyone?). And that’s just the superficial beginning. None of us has escaped unscathed–not the female CEO with the househusband and not even the all-things-equal couple with a hyphenated last name and a kid with an androgenous first name. 

Let just say that sexism affects each of us, male or female, in unique and personal ways, so I can only tell you correctly how it affects me.

 I’m a stay-at-home mother with a (finally) thriving freelance writing career and a delightful husband with a thriving clinical practice. I’ve spent most of the past eight years at home raising our two children, and while I probably wouldn’t have done it any other way, every single day I have regrets about how I am living my life all wrong. It’s an almost tediously familiar story, but that’s because it’s the true story of so many women who can’t figure out how to balance kids and career. We feel like crap about ourselves as we are not enough. Not enough career woman. Not enough mother. Not enough wife. Then, we take a moment to sit down and paint our toenails (heaven forbid we’re not enough pretty) and we look around our house and realize we are also not enough house cleaner or cook or gardener or _____ (fill in the blank with what you don’t do well).

Quick disclaimer. Mark is good. Damn good as father, as housekeeper, as husband as lawn mower and, occasionally as the servant of my commands, the maker of my wishes. But that doesn’t mean it’s never sexist around here. For a small example, I can’t let the clean laundry sit there in a pile, whereas Mark often thinks the laundry looks quite comfortable in a fresh fluffy heap on the couch. Okay, there are things that I don’t notice like the weather-stripping that’s falling off the door and knocking us in the head every time we enter the house. But let’s save that for his blog entry called “Women and Weather Stripping.”

My point is this. As a mother and career women I take on so many roles and often, in worrying about doing them right, I end up overdoing them. I need my work to be just so. I’m a self-declared slob and still, I need my house to be just so. I need my kids worlds to run right. And while Mark bears much of our financial burden (something never to be belittled) I don’t think he feels the “just so” pressure that I do. Certainly not in the way I do having been raised by a “just so” stay-at-home mother then learning that a woman is less-than for not having a “just so” job.

Now for the affection part. Who said it? Dr. Phil? I don’t remember, but the line is something like this, “You want to turn a woman on, guys? Then wash the dishes.” Amen.

While I’ve been moping around the house this week feeling like no one cares about the crud on the counter or the stench rising from the garbage like visible fumes in a cartoon strip, I really didn’t want to kiss Mark. I wasn’t fullblown mad at him, but I was mad about sexism. I was pissed off that as a girl I’d been raised to care about something that he’d been mostly raised to let his mother do. And then last night…

 I came home after an evening helping a friend pick out a tattoo (She’s thinking of getting a peace sign but is worried that it’s going to look bad when her butt sags.) to find that Mark had picked up my cleaning cudgel and did the crusty counters, the floors, and the laundry that had slumped from its comfy pile on the sofa to a sprawl of underwear on the floor. I kissed him. I said thank you and meant it. It’s so small. It’s so stupid. And it’s so meaningful. I’m talking about when one partner notices what the other partner needs  and without moan or groan delivers.

When Mark suggested the title for this week’s blog, I was a little surprised. I mean I haven’t been absolutely right about everything for a couple of days, but somehow the implication was otherwise. No fair. If I’m going to be accused of always being right, then I want to, at the very least, always be right. Or at least think I am.

How about you? Are you always right? As in, the argument starts and your heels dig in and with a defense attorney’s attention to language and steel-trap mind for details, you launch into the opening statement as to why you are in-arguably right and how a jury-box full of 12 impartial men and women hand-picked by the federal government of the United States itself would not need to hear the opposing arguments or if they were forced to endure them, that same jury wouldn’t require five minutes to deliberate because it would be so glaringly clear that YOU ARE ALWAYS RIGHT. Case closed.

As you mayknow from our website HaveAQuickie.net, Mark and I solve our problems with what we refer to as a Communication Quickie. We each listen to the other person for five minutes and then switch. If we are really pissed off and fighting hard, we will alternate five minute turns until something gives. It can take a while, but usually something does.

Why? Because instead of piling all of our mean words and feelings on top of each other, we are actually listening to the other person speak their heart. And while that person is speaking, they aren’t allowed to be blameful or accusing. They may be saying how crappy they feel, but not in the spirit of making their partner feel even worse.  

By respectfully using this forum, each person, instead of getting angrier, gets a clearer sense of how their partner feels and on how they themself feel. It gives the argument a little perspective and, really, what argument doesn’t need some perspective?

Sometimes, Mark and I get to that place in a fight when we’ve had a couple of rounds of Quickies and suddenly like, a fog lifting, everything shifts. That’s when I often do something shocking. Here’s what it is. I say to Mark, You know what. You’re right.  At which point he looks at me with either loving adoration or utter confusion, because I suddenly sound a little Stepford.

Then I say it again, You’re right. I see it now and I’m sorry. Let’s talk about it. And we do.

Then, amazingly enough, you know what happens next? Maybe you do. He realizes that I am a little bit right, too and these things work both ways. And then we are happy and equal for a while, until the next time that I am always right.

After a holiday–Hallmark or otherwise, I don’t discriminate–I check in with friends about how it went. This week I made a few inquiries into their Mother’s Day experiences, not only because I’m nosy, but because the stories of generosity, or lack of, fascinate me. 

Take for instance, the mother of four young children in my neighborhood who works part-time so she can be home for the kids. A mother who cleans and shops and cooks and cares unceasingly. The one who remembers a dozen important things that must get done everyday but whose husband scrambled outside on Mother’s Day morning to pick her a bunch of flowers as an afterthought. Like, oh, it’s Mother’s Day and I didn’t really plan anything, so I guess these purple weeds from the park will have to do in a pinch.

Or the mother of two little children who says, “I don’t really expect anything from him. The kids made me cards and that was sweet.”

Or the mother who got that Hallmark card and celebrated the fact that he even managed to remember that since there wasn’t a lot of precedence for it with other occasions.

I heard plenty of sweet stories too. My friend Maggie’s husband overhauled an old bike that he found in the basement and added a perfect basket. She was riding around on Sunday morning in her white skirt like the Queen of Spring. I saw other Moms on hiatus from kid-duty, some working in their gardens, wearing new clogs or pretty silver earrings. And the restaurant we went to that evening was packed with smiling mothers being feted by their broods.

Bringing me to my point that just a dash of generosity can go a very long way. I’m not saying that every holiday has to be a chance to blow wads of cash on showy gifts. Ugh, not at all. Okay, well, in some cases that’s fine. Rather, I’m suggesting that when a chance to celebrate rolls around–Mother’s Day, a birthday, and, yes, even those stupid Hallmark Holidays-that you do so with some creativity and generosity of spirit.

What is so hard about a small gift, flowers, a card with a message from the heart and not Hallmark? Let’s put it this way, every Mother’s Day, I think about why I’m a mother and how I got here. I even remember my gorgeous pregnancies with my two children and the interminable, drug-free labors that brought them into this world. Would I do it again in a minute? Duh. Does childbirth and the aftermath deserve a little recognition? Double duh.

One of the easiest things you can do for a partner is appreciate them, even if it’s not a holiday. This, of course, goes for men and women. Even if you’re struggling to communicate, to find your way back to each other after a distancing argument, take a moment to think about what drew you to this person in the first place and why you’re still here. Is she the kind of person that every kid loves not just her own? Does he joyfully play with the kids for hours forgetting the time and sometimes even dinner?

So next time a holiday comes along (you’ll know by reading store circulars, watching tv commercials and paying attention to Internet ads) here’s what you can do, instead of doing nothing. You can think of at least one thing you really adore about your partner. You can write it on a plain piece of paper or a decorative card (this matters much less than the sentiment) then tape it to a small gift that you purchase or make yourself with thoughtfulness. Then give it to that person you share your life with, watch their reaction, then sit back for a moment and marvel at how easy it is to spread a little joy.

Sociologist Naomi Gerstel of UMass Amherst just told USA Today about 4 great reasons to stay single. What kind of news is this and why does it have to come on a day when Mark and I have had a fight?

 Anyway, here’s the gist of her four points:

-Singles are more socially connected

-Singles who never married have the highest level of well being.

-Marriage is no longer necessarily an economic benefit for women.

-Pressure to marry no longer hurts a woman’s self-image.

So that means what we’ve known all along: It’s great to be single. But, hey, it’s also great to be in a couple. Personally, I’m going to stick with the latter. And considering that Mark and I are still sort of having a tiff as I write this, it’s amazing that I can even say what’s great about being in a committed relationship.

For instance, I love the feeling of going out to dinner and looking across the table at the person who knows you inside out, body and soul, warts and farts and still takes you home and curls up with you under the covers, night after night, for as long as you both shall live. 

 Or what about holding hands? You know that easy thing couples do when they’re walking down the street and suddenly their arms touch, sparking a reminder. Then their fingers curl into a soft lock and they continue on with that connection they share with absolutely no one else in the same way.

What about Sunday morning breakfast? I am just not interested in eating that alone. Or the book that you finish at midnight and have to talk about immediately. Mark may be asleep, but at least I’m not talking to myself in that dark room.

Being in a couple means you have someone to share your life with. That can mean laughs, sex, sickness, kids, problems, joys and Sunday morning breakfast. It’s not terrible, unless you or your partner makes it terrible. And, if you want to, that’s an easy enough thing to do.

We have single and happy friends. We have single and looking friends. We have divorced friends. We have married friends who are cheating all over the place. We have married friends for whom monogamy is like an out-of-body religious experience. And then we have the all the tween couples.

But I’m talking about those relationships where you have one partner and that partner has one partner. And the two of you commit to each other in a way that is hard and good and important.

So, let’s take a clue from some of those happy singles that the sociologist talks about and see how we can be happier as couples.

1. The social connection - for heaven sake don’t get isolated as a couple. Open your home, your hearts. Invite the new people on the block to dinner. Go to a fundraiser once a year. Or chair it. Work in soup kitchen together. Do something that gets you out of your comfort zone.

2. Get some well-being - When a couple marries, there is a measurable boost in happiness, but it doesn’t last, apparently. So what are you going to do to make it last? Regular connection, dates, time away from the kids. Life is stressful, but if it’s too stressful to insist on and prioritize a little well-being, then, yes, you should have stayed single.

3. Economic Benefit - Women say marriage is no longer the economic benefit it once was for them. And where’s the problem here? Women are now financially independent and able to manage without a man taking care of them. This is a good thing, in or out of a relationship.

4. Pressure to marry doesn’t hurt self-image - This one I applaud. In fact, it gets a standing ovation. Of course women shouldn’t feel rotten if they’re single, but that doesn’t mean partnering has to be so bad. My advice is don’t even think about getting married unless your self-esteem is in tact. This goes double for reproducing. Seriously, if your self-image is tied up with being a wife, maybe a mother, then it could suffer a brutal blow if neither of those work out. Be sure of yourself no matter what box you check for marital status.

That’s all. Time to make up with Mark and remember the reasons why we chose each other.