Remember that table-banging scene in When Harry Met Sally when Meg Ryan built up from a sexy moan to an orgasmic screamfest while every single woman in the diner (especially Rob Reiner’s mom) wanted whatever she was having?
The big O. We all want them, and we all need them in our lives.
You might think from picking up a magazine or watching a movie or TV show in our youth-obsessed society that the only people having sex are hot 20-year-olds on Spring break and millennial lawyers getting a release after a long day of the corporate grind.
I remember planning my life out when I was 18. I thought of 28 as ancient. I figured by the time I was 30 I would be married with a kid on the way.
In my 30’s, I planned to reignite my screenwriting career and breakthrough to success in my 40’s. In my late 40’s I told my then-husband I wanted to celebrate 50 in Paris.
But it turned out that as I turned 50, instead of going to the Eiffel Tower, I went to the Stanley Mosk Courthouse in downtown Los Angeles to file for divorce. …
Recovering from a divorce after a 20-year marriage is never an easy feat. Therapist Susan Pease Gadua in Psychology Today likens the undoing of a marriage to, “Trying to disentangle two trees that have grown next to each other for years. The more intertwined the root systems are, the longer it will take for the trees to go their separate ways.”
Recovering from a marriage to a narcissist adds an added layer of complexity and a few extra hurdles to get over before you can feel whole again. And divorcing a narcissist is not for the faint of heart. Yes…
It was 2015. The shitshow of my divorce was unraveling, one humiliating, deranged episode at a time. My life was kind of like a season of Fleabag, with knowing glances thrown at the camera and Emmy-worthy eye-rolling on my part.
Before my ex moved out, I got hit (ever so lightly, tapped) by a car while on my bike. A young woman made an ill-conceived U-turn in the middle of the intersection of Main Street and Pacific Street. I saw her heading right toward me and hopped off my bike just as she hit it. …
No, we’re not a big MeetUp orgy, schtupping five miles up in the air on a metal sink in the 2x3 foot bathroom of an airplane. It’s nothing that titillating or debaucherous.
What I’m talking about is becoming a 6-percenter.
What is a 6-percenter, you may be wondering?
The stats reveal that only 6% of Medium writers earn $100 or more a month on this platform. I have now been initiated into this club. Woot!
Did it happen overnight? No. It took me a year. Was I posting as often as is recommended by the Medium gurus? No. I was…
“No one puts Baby in the corner!”
This was always one of my favorite lines from Dirty Dancing. In fact, when that movie came out everyone told me I look like Jennifer Gray — my friends jokingly started calling me Baby. No one was gonna put me in a corner!
Ironically, I wound up marrying a mansplainer. At first, he did not come off as didactic — he seemed genuinely helpful and knowledgeable. He is a very bright man who has the kind of brain that retains every fact he has ever learned.
However, over the years it became clear…