When it comes to feeling beautiful, I was going for broke. Standing in front of my closet—which never has a shortage of clothes—I tuned into my mood and energy. Did I want skin-tight, or bohemian and flowy? Something short? Or maybe those new camel suede tights? Decisions.

Here’s the deal: I’m nearly convinced my parents signed a contract with the divine, stipulating that they had to baby me for life. The other night over dinner, my girlfriends and I joked about growing up under the ever-watchful eyes of our parents who—of course—had the very best intentions. While […]

Standing there in the middle of the dance floor, I wondered what went wrong. Here we are, at yet another wedding, I thought to myself. I wished I’d never forced him to come with me, and I vowed then and there that this was NOT happening again. Eventually, he stormed off, leaving me alone in the throes of festive, happy people.

“Oh,” they say, placing their hand gently on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

That’s what happens when people find out about my separation. On the one hand, I value and appreciate their kindness. But on the other hand, I’m simply boggled. After all, my separation isn’t—in any way—their fault. It’s just an automatic response to sad news, just as I automatically respond back with, “It was tough in the beginning, but it’s good now.”

Having just returned from a soulful, fun-filled weekend with 80 other women, I feel full and whole.

Spending time with “soul-sisters” who share the same vibration and syncing into their energies has been gratifying, and I am realizing how much I continue to crave sisterhood as part of my normal day-to-day life.