5 Not-So-Obvious Signs You Might Be Headed For Divorce

Posted on 07/09/2024 by Boris Clair

Even the healthiest long-term relationships have their fair share of ups and downs. So how do you know when you’re wading through some choppy-but-temporary waters versus when the relationship is seriously in decline?

We asked couples therapists to share some of the not-so-obvious signs a marriage may be heading toward divorce. Here’s what to look out for, according to our experts:

1. You’ve stopped fighting with each other

This one may seem counterintuitive at first because many people believe that less arguing is indicative of a relationship’s strength, said Los Angeles marriage and family therapist Abigail Makepeace.

But when a couple no longer has a desire to hash out their issues, it may indicate they’ve become emotionally disengaged.

“The absence of conflict might suggest that one or both partners no longer see the relationship as worth fighting for or, in a broader sense, as worth saving,” Makepeace told HuffPost. “If one partner stops complaining without any resolution to the underlying issues, it could be a sign that they have given up on the relationship and are preparing to leave.”

West Los Angeles clinical psychologist David Narang said he has observed this while working with male patients in heterosexual marriages. At first, their wives may express their sadness and anger when they feel deprived of emotional connection. This generates conflict and gets the husbands’ attention. But when the wives stop sharing their frustrations, the husbands are often relieved. They figure all is well in the marriage‚ but this assumption is “an error with tragic consequences,” Narang told HuffPost.

“In this situation, the wife has not calmed because all is well, but rather because she has given up, is disengaged, and is beginning to live an emotionally separate life,” he continued.

“This makes the marriage extremely fragile because she has given up getting nourishment from the marriage, and thus, she has less and less investment in it. As such, she is much more likely to react by filing for divorce when something goes wrong,” he said.

2. Your lives have become more and more separate

It’s normal and healthy for partners to maintain some independence within a marriage — whether that’s having their own friendships, career aspirations or hobbies. A “growing sense of division,” however, can be a warning sign that the marriage is in decay, Makepeace said.

“In couples experiencing trouble, the trend toward spending more time apart may not just reflect a healthy balance but rather a preference for living separate lives,” she said. “This increasing separation often points to a deeper disconnect and a diminished desire to share experiences together.”

3. You’re not transparent with one another

Marriage and family therapist Marni Feuerman in Boca Raton, Florida, draws a distinction between privacy and secrecy in a relationship, telling HuffPost: “Privacy is about personal boundaries, while secrecy is about intentionally hiding something.”

If partners have been intentionally keeping secrets from one another, it may signal the marriage is inching toward divorce.

“A lack of trust might be a more obvious reason but there may be more ‘under-the-radar’ type reasons as well,” she said. “For example, one or both of you are more avoidant of intimacy or less willing to take emotional risks with each other so you do not disclose as much about your activities and inner thoughts with your partner. This will certainly erode the emotional connection between you.”

4. You rarely talk about the future

When couples stop discussing their goals or plans for the future, it may indicate a “lack of desire to grow and experience life together,” Makepeace said.

“This absence of future planning often arises from a sense of complacency, where partners become overly comfortable with the present and lose motivation to improve or evolve their relationship,” she continued.

“Consequently, feelings of stagnation can set in, leading to boredom, a lack of personal and relational growth, and general unhappiness.”

Over time, if a couple can no longer imagine a fulfilling future life together, it can “prompt a reevaluation of the relationship, potentially leading to separation,” Makepeace added.

5. You confide more in other people more than you do in your spouse

Another less obvious sign is if you find yourself opening up to a friend, co-worker or relative than you do your spouse, Feuerman said.

“An intimate bond isn’t built with your partner if you don’t bring your inner world to them regularly, including your dreams, hopes, fears, and so on,” she said. “If someone else knows more about you than your spouse, this is a bad sign for the marriage. Perhaps some solid boundaries need to be put in place with others and more emotional energy put toward your marriage?”

One important note here: Too often, unhappy partners don’t tell their spouse how miserable they are “until it’s almost too late,” marriage and family therapist Becky Whetstone in Little Rock, Arkansas, told HuffPost. That’s why it’s so important to speak up when you’re struggling rather than bottling it up. And don’t hesitate to lean on outside resources — such as books and professional counselling — to help you rebuild and strengthen the relationship.

“There is so much to know about having a great marriage,” Whetstone said. “People can’t expect you to wing it; you have to be mindful and deliberate. I tell couples to dig in with a good therapist, let them be their teachers and learn the skills. It’s so worth it.”

Mistakes Brides Make When Shopping For Their Wedding Dress

Posted on 22/06/2024 by Boris Clair

Shopping for that special dress is one of the most memorable experiences in the wedding planning process. It can also be incredibly overwhelming as you wade through endless styles, fabrics and opinions.

“Wedding dress shopping entails a deeply emotional journey, especially for those experiencing it for the first time,” Anna Ramirez, head of design at Pronovias, told HuffPost. “The process serves as a learning curve for many brides, as initial perceptions of gown styles often evolve during fittings, revealing what truly complements their body and boosts their confidence. It is common for brides to discover a style they hadn’t anticipated as their own.”

As the popularity of shows like “Say Yes to the Dress” have shown, there’s no shortage of opportunities for fun and drama in the world of bridal gowns.

To help keep any stress at bay, we asked wedding dress experts to share some common mistakes they see people making as they shop for their special day. Read on for the biggest missteps to avoid and some advice for making the wedding dress shopping process as enjoyable as possible:

Bringing Too Many People

“When you bring all of your friends and family to your appointment, you run the risk of being overwhelmed by too many opinions — even the well-intentioned ones,” said Nikki Deeds, global brand director at Allure Bridals. “Your mother-in-law may only like ballgowns, while your sister loves a vintage silhouette, and your mom insists on a traditional long sleeved lace gown like the one she wore in 1985. It’s hard enough to find the perfect dress, so why overcomplicate things with too many voices?”

She recommended bringing only a couple of people who make you feel your most relaxed and beautiful on the main shopping journey and then inviting the larger group to a final fitting or other appointment after you’ve said “yes” to your dream dress.

“Filter down your guest count to two people who are very close to you, that you have a very comfortable, loving relationship with,” echoed bridal designer Katherine Tash. “You need people cheering you on and wanting what’s best for you, not criticising or bringing down the energy.”

Wearing The Wrong Undergarments

“Don’t wear bright coloured underwear,” Tash advised. “It seems like it would be common sense to wear skin tone, but I consistently see brides forget and then become distracted by the colour showing through and asking if the gown is see-through.”

Wear a thong or seamless panty that blends in with your skin tone. Many brides opt for a well-fitting nude strapless bra or pasties, and some shop in shapewear as well.

“The right undergarments can significantly impact how a dress looks and feels,” said designer and Studio Levana founder Evgenia Shimanov. “Consider these elements when trying on dresses to get a complete picture. Nowadays, there are plenty of options for bras, spanks and other supportive undergarments.”

Shopping Without An Open Mind

“You may think you know exactly what you want in a wedding look, but I can’t tell you how many people change their mind after they try on ‘the one,’” Deeds said. “I’ve seen many a chic minimalist melt at the sight of themselves in a lacy ballgown, so never say never! Try on a bit of everything and see how you feel before narrowing your search on to one particular aesthetic.”

Look at your first appointment as an opportunity to experiment with different silhouettes, necklines, fabrics, embellishments, etc. Remember that clothes look very different on a hanger or even a mannequin than they do on your body.

“Keep an open mind to unexpected choices that may surprise you,” Shimanov said. “Try on a variety of styles, including those you may not have initially considered.”

Trying On Dresses Outside Your Budget

“My number one tip is simple: Start with the budget,” Deeds said. “Don’t fall prey to trying on the gorgeous but expensive gown featured in the shop window. There is absolutely always going to be something you’ll love in your price range, but if you fall head over heels for an out of budget gown from the start, it’s really hard to come back from that.”

Before you start putting on dresses, get real about your budget, taking into account the cost of accessories like the veil as well.

“I know learning something is out of budget can be annoying and sometimes triggering, but it’s best to do some research and learn what designers or bridal salons are in budget and which ones aren’t before your appointment,” said Leah Langley-McClean, founder and CEO of elleNelle Bridal. “This can help save time for all parties involved and eliminate some disappointment. Most stores and designers will publish a price range of their dresses or the typical spend of their clients, and a safe strategy is to shop where you fall in the middle of that range.”

It's important to establish a budget before trying on dresses. — It’s important to establish a budget before trying on dresses.

Waiting Too Long To Start

“With the popularity of fast fashion, some brides make the mistake of shopping too close to their wedding date which limits the selection of designer dresses they can purchase and have altered before the wedding,” said Marissa Rubinetti, executive vice president and chief operating officer at Kleinfeld Bridal. “Brides should shop for their wedding dress nine to 12 months prior.”

Shopping for a wedding dress too late in the process means limiting your options and also potentially having to pay big rush fees.

“Keep in mind that veils and accessories also require time, especially if you’re considering customisation options,” Shimanov said.

Forgetting About Alterations

Another reason it’s important to get an early start is to give yourself enough time for alterations. It usually takes a few fittings to ensure the dress fits perfectly to your body, and looks and feels the way you want.

“Allow eight to 10 weeks before the wedding for the first alteration appointment,” Rubinetti said.

Don’t forget about those all-important alterations as you calculate the timing and costs involved in your wedding dress shopping.

“Always account for the cost of alterations when determining your wedding dress budget,” Langley-McClean said. “It’s rare that your dress will fit perfectly, even with a made-to-measure dress. Our bodies are all different and alterations allow you to perfectly contour the dress to the unique shape of your body,” pointing out that alterations can add $300 to $1,000 to the cost of the dress.

She also advised getting in touch with an alterations specialist before shopping if you’re on a tight deadline and buying off the rack.

“They may even be able to jump on the phone with you during your appointment,” Langley-McClean added. “You want something that can be easily altered. The last thing you want to do is find yourself buying a dress 10 sizes too big and thinking the alterations process will be simple. I’m here to tell you, it won’t be.”

Not Doing Your Research

“I always think it helps to be prepared for any situation you’re entering into that can feel high pressure,” Tash said. “So do a little research on what your true style is, and research a store’s stock beforehand to understand which pieces from a designer the store carries.”

Before going to shops, you can gather style inspiration and get a preliminary sense of your vision from Pinterest, bridal blogs, influencers and more.

“Explore local flagship stores of preferred brands or nearby retailers listed on the brand’s website to try on specific gowns of interest,” Ramirez said. “Compile a list of preferred styles and brand names before your appointment. Sharing this information with the store in advance can help them better understand your preferences.”

Overshopping

“Do not overshop!” Rubinetti said. “Trying on wedding dresses can be exhausting. You should not plan more than two appointments in one day.”

She recommended shopping at a bridal salon with a range of styles you love to allow for some variety, at least at the beginning. Going from store to store and trying on gown after gown can get overwhelming and turn what should be a fun experience into a chore.

“Furthermore, it’s advisable to refrain from exploring other gown options after making a purchase,” Ramirez said. “Continuously browsing can sow doubt and undermine the confidence in your chosen gown. Once you have found the dress that resonates with you, trust that decision and avoid second-guessing. Fashion trends may evolve, but the key is to remember the joy and certainty you felt when you said ‘yes’ to your dress.”

Ultimately, you want to strike a balance and follow the process that feels right for you.

Julie Sabatino, a wedding stylist and author of “Dressed, Styled, and Down the Aisle: Becoming a Stylish Bride,” recommended figuring out what type of decision-maker you are. Do you need to feel as though you’ve explored every option before deciding, or do you only need to see a sample to make a decision and feel good about it?

“I’ve spoken with SO many brides that tell me they were pressured into purchasing a dress that they weren’t sure about and didn’t feel comfortable in on their wedding day, or worse, they bought another one right before the wedding,” Sabatino said.

Deferring Too Much To Others

“Prioritise your opinion when making decisions about your gown,” Ramirez said. “While input from your entourage can be valuable, remember that this day is about your preferences and feeling your best in your chosen dress.”

Listen to your gut when assessing whether or not you like a particular gown, not what other people say or what’s trendy at the moment.

“I always tell my brides to follow their instincts and follow their own vision and not someone else’s,” said fashion designer and creative director Monique Lhuillier. “A bride that stays true to her personal style and feels happy and confident on her special day will glow from within!”

Engaging In Negative Self-Talk

“Brides come to appointments and sometimes they are their own worst critic ― focusing on all their flaws and being hyper-critical of their body,” Langley-McClean said. “When those not-so-nice intrusive thoughts creep in and you’re about to go on a self-deprecating bender, I want to encourage brides to immediately stop and think about what it is that you do like about yourself, and say that instead. Yes, we all have our insecurities, but we don’t need to be mean to ourselves about it.”

The wedding dress experience understandably brings a lot of things people are self-conscious about to light, especially when it comes to the shape and size of their bodies. Ramirez emphasised keeping sizes and other numbers out of your mind as the consultant takes your measurements and places your order, especially because these gowns tend to run smaller than standard street size clothing.

“Size is merely a number, and the aim is to procure a gown that fits the bride at her largest measurement, with subsequent alterations tailoring the gown to her specific body shape,” she explained.

And don’t hesitate to talk to the consultant about any areas of sensitivity, whether it’s about physical insecurities or another issue that will affect the shopping experience.

“Be honest with your sales associate and let them know if you have any concerns that they should know about,” advised bridal stylist Jackie Avrumson.

Having Unrealistic Or Unclear Expectations

“While this is your time to live out your bridal fantasy, some real world considerations will help you pick the best dress for your wedding,” said Daniel Sanchez, creative director at Azazie.

He emphasised the importance of considering budget and season. These elements will also help you develop a clear wedding day vision.

“A lot of details will impact your wedding dress decision ― location, venue terrain, time of day and overall theme,” Sanchez explained. “Shop once you have selected your venue and theme. While shopping on the fly seems fun, many brides later find themselves last minute shopping for another option more in line with their wedding planning.”

The weather is particularly crucial, as choosing a dress without taking that into consideration can lead to physical discomfort.

“A heavy, ornate gown might not suit a beach wedding, and a lightweight dress might be inappropriate for a winter ceremony,” Shimanov said. “Select a dress that not only looks stunning but also feels comfortable to wear throughout your wedding day. Comfort is essential for enjoying every moment without distraction. Ensure the dress allows you to move freely and makes you feel completely at ease.”

Forgetting To Enjoy It

“So many brides feel disappointed if they don’t find THE dress at the first visit,” Deeds said. “Try to prioritise the journey, not the destination — enjoy the champagne, and time with family and friends, even if it takes two or three trips to your local bridal shops.”

Try to cherish the exciting moments throughout your wedding planning process. It’s meant to be happy, not stressful, so maintain some perspective.

“Remember that dress shopping is such a fun part of getting married,” Tash said. “And the best is yet to come after you walk down the aisle.”

This Is Why Preparing For Divorce Is The Most Romantic Thing You Can Do

Posted on 10/06/2024 by Boris Clair

You’ve said your vows, celebrated with your loved ones and now all that’s left to do after your wedding is, uh, prepare for divorce?

According to a barrister at 4PB, Rhiannon Lloyd, this is exactly what you should be doing and, in fact, it’s the most romantic thing you could do for one another as a married couple.

Speaking exclusively with HuffPost UK, Lloyd said: “The reality of divorce, its brutality, cost and the damage it can inflict, if not handled correctly, on children and families is something any prospective spouses should seriously think about.

“The importance of planning for the eventuality of a split, and minimising it’s impact on you and any future children is underestimated.”

Lloyd wisely added: “What could be more romantic than trying to ensure that you have the best possible chance of remaining a positive presence in each other’s lives and the lives of your future children post any future divorce?”

Well, yes.

How to financially plan for a potential divorce

The barrister recommends that couple start a ‘divorce fund’ to financially see them through any divorce proceedings and ensure that neither party are left out of pocket.

Lloyd explained: “Whereas prenups plan for management of asset division, they don’t ordinarily address contribution to a fund to manage the cost of any eventual divorce process.

“This is now changing and many couples are opting to make joint (or sole) contributions into a divorce fund as well. A fund is set aside, earmarked for the costs ( or even settlement) of any future divorce often in line with the prenup’s provisions.”

As for how much you should put in a divorce fund? Well, Lloyd says that a ‘sensible’ starting point is £100k. Quite unfathomable to most of us, especially during a cost of living crisis.

However, while this sum may make you gulp, Lloyd warned: “It’s important to point out though that even in modest asset cases costs can spiral into the hundreds of thousands when people litigate unreasonably.”

Eye-watering.

As for the how, Lloyd said: “Any fund would have to be an Escrow or joint mandate account where neither party could withdraw without the consent of the other.

“It would also be sensible, either as part of a prenup, or by way of a separate written agreement, to set out the terms under which either party could utilise sums from the fund, how any excess was to be treated and the parties’ intentions in respect of the fund generally.”

6 ‘Invisible’ Household Tasks That Drain Mums’ Time And Energy

Posted on 26/05/2024 by Boris Clair

Keeping a household running smoothly takes a lot of effort. There are the more obvious physical tasks like cooking meals, taking out the rubbish, folding laundry and picking the kids up from school. But it also requires a whole bunch of behind-the-scenes planning, organising, anticipating of needs, decision-making and delegating known as the mental load — an invisible kind of work.

In heterosexual relationships, most of these invisible tasks tend to fall on the mom’s shoulders, even when both partners work outside of the home. Men today may be taking on more hands-on domestic responsibilities than they have in the past, but women are still usually carrying the bulk of the mental load.

“Women aren’t just doing more labor, the labor they’re doing is mentally and emotionally taxing: anticipating and planning for how to meet the family’s needs,” Laura Danger, an educator who facilitates workshops on domestic labor, previously told HuffPost.

“When you consider, in cis-het couples, who is usually keeping the social calendar, signing kids up for summer camps and ensuring the grocery list is planned and prepared? It’s often defaulted to mom. Doctors, teachers and coaches often dial mom first. Even the vet usually calls mom before dad!”

Managing kids' clothes, for example, is a much bigger task than it might seem. — Managing kids’ clothes, for example, is a much bigger task than it might seem.

These invisible tasks often take up way more time and energy than meets the eye. One example? Registering a child for kindergarten, which artist Mary Catherine Starr, the woman behind @momlife_comics on Instagram, just did recently for her son.

“What went into this registration was so much invisible labor,” she told HuffPost. “Keeping an eye out for when registration opened, going online to fill out all of the forms — which includes locating all sorts of paperwork and medical history— calling the registration office when a technical issue comes up on the website, booking a registration appointment to turn in the rest of the paperwork, scheduling a ‘kindergarten screening’ for the child, taking the child to said screening, texting normal child care provider about child being late to child care on registration day, and rearranging work schedule to accommodate kindergarten screening.”

“All of this takes three to five hours out of an already busy schedule, and if they’re not a part of it, their partner has no idea what went into this,” she continued. “It’s something you simply can’t understand unless you’ve lived it.”

We asked moms which invisible tasks on their plate are more taxing than they might appear. Here’s what they told us:

1. Staying on top of kids’ clothes

Lina Forrestal, a content creator and host of The New Mamas Podcast, said keeping her fast-growing baby and toddler’s wardrobes up-to-date with items that fit is a “huge challenge.”

“Everything from pants, shirts, socks and shoes,” she told HuffPost. “Then, there’s the load of having to purchase new things, and put away, donate or sell the old stuff that doesn’t fit anymore. It’s the biggest invisible time suck.”

Not only that, you also need to make sure the clothes are seasonally appropriate — i.e., ensuring you have the right-size bathing suits for summertime, and sweaters and pants that fit for the cooler months.

2. Meal planning

Caitlin Murray, the creator behind @BigTimeAdulting on Instagram, said that while there are a million items on her invisible labor to-do list, the most all-consuming one is figuring out what her family is going to eat every day. And that doesn’t just mean coming up with meal ideas, it also means finding balanced, nutritious and tasty options that all three of her kids will enjoy.

“I happen to love food, and I also care very much about the level of variety and nutrition my kids are getting. I’m not super strict ― we have plenty of treats ― but I am constantly struggling to think of new ways to get them to eat all the good stuff, too,” she told HuffPost.

“It’s also important to note that, if kids are not enjoying their food, meal time is going to be hell. I’m personally triggered when there are complaints and dissatisfaction with a meal, which is why it’s never as easy as just grocery shopping and cooking,” she added.

For comic artist Debbie Tung, it’s also taking time to carefully meal plan and create a grocery list so that she’s only buying items she knows they’ll use to avoid wasting food.

“Sometimes I prepare meals in advance if I know I’ll be very busy on a specific day,” she added. “I try to make sure my kid’s diet includes adequate fruits and vegetables daily.”

3. Keeping track of what household items are needed

This one may not seem like a monumental task on its face, but constantly staying on top of which things need to be replaced or replenished — like diapers, toiletries, cleaning supplies, snacks and pet food, just to name a few — requires a fair amount of mental work.

“Why is it usually Mom that knows what products or food items the family is running out of at any given time?” Renee Reina Grenon, host of “The Mom Room” podcast, told HuffPost. “Because, they are the ones packing lunches, making meals, packing the diaper bag, changing diapers, doing bath time, signing the permission slips for field trips, doing the laundry, doing groceries, etc. The list is never-ending.”

4. Managing school schedules, needs and communication

These tasks are just a fraction of the mental load that comes with motherhood.

For Starr, these school-related tasks entail “so much more than meets the eye.”

One example: reading all of the school emails and papers that get sent home and then taking action on anything that requires a response.

“For some of these items, that means checking my schedule to see if I can take time off of work to volunteer in a classroom or at a school event, or marking the schedule because it’s a half day or there’s a field trip or something we need to plan around,” Starr said.

“For other items that get sent home, it means making sure a child does the work associated with the handout, for example, reviewing spelling words each night or filling out a reading log that needs to be returned every Friday,” she added.

Other tasks include, but are not limited to, signing up for after-school activities, helping with school fundraisers, getting doctor’s notes for excused absences, and responding to questions or notes from teachers.

And don’t forget keeping track of special themed days or spirit weeks “ensuring that these days are on the calendar and remembered and planned for,” said Starr. “‘Is my tie-dyed shirt clean? Today is tie-dye day!’”

5. Making and keeping track of appointments

In writer and content creator CJ Kelsey’s house, she’s the one typically tasked with the scheduling and managing of appointments, she said.

“My husband will gladly take them, but I’m in charge of not only making my kids’ doctor appointments but now my parents’ as well,” she told HuffPost. “And it takes a lot of time to make the calls and a headache to keep them all organised.”

Not to mention other associated tasks like filling out the forms that may need to be completed prior to the appointment, and making sure the front desk has your up-to-date address and insurance information.

6. Attending birthday parties

Planning a birthday party for your kid can be a lot of work, but it’s a once-a-year event. However, you may be a guest at other kids’ parties a couple of times a month — or more.

“It doesn’t sound like it, but being a guest is a lot of work,” Forrestal said. “From remembering to RSVP, to buying a gift, the mental math of getting to the birthday party location on-time — usually on a weekend with other events going on.”

It’s Time To Stop Taking All Of This Domestic Labor For Granted

We shouldn’t just assume moms are going to be the default parent for virtually every facet of raising a family. Instead, let’s recognise their unseen, unpaid efforts and discuss ways to distribute tasks — especially the mental load — more equitably.

“When I was younger, my mother did so much for us while working a full-time job,” said Tung. “I never realised that or truly appreciated it until I became a mother myself and tried balancing my job, parenting, household chores and staying on top of my kid’s school work. It’s a huge mental load, and I never stop planning and thinking about what needs to be done.”

“I feel like my husband doesn’t share the same mental load,” she added. “But it would be great if more partners could see things from a mother’s perspective, and show more appreciation and willingness to help.”

“Our society loves to say that raising children is the most important job in the world — but it is never treated as such.”

– Renee Reina Grenon, host of “The Mom Room” podcast

Starr said when her husband handles a family management task that she has historically taken care of, he’ll often tell her he’s surprised it took so long to complete.

“He thinks, for some reason, that it doesn’t take as much time for me because I’m more ‘experienced’ or ‘better’ at handling these kinds of tasks, but the fact of the matter is that these tasks just take a lot of time, no matter who you are,” she said.

“And if you are carrying the entire task and all of the accompanying tasks that come along with it, managing a family and household takes a lot of time and energy. And this time and energy should not fall on the mom. It should be divided between the parents,” Starr added.

Reina Grenon said she wishes people valued the unpaid work of motherhood the way they do a paying job.

“Our society loves to say that raising children is the most important job in the world ― but it is never treated as such.”

One Sentence To My Wife’s Family Ruined Our Marriage. Was I Wrong To Say It?

Posted on 26/05/2024 by Boris Clair

In a recent Reddit post shared to r/AITAH (am I the asshole), site user LowRequirement5182 shared that he’d been having some issues in his marriage.

“Up until about two years ago, things were great. However, a disastrous move, a few family emergencies, and a totalled car have left us in a terrible financial situation,” he wrote.

“All our savings are pretty much gone, 401k’s empty, and we’re haemorrhaging money.”

He added that the couple had bought a three-bed house in a high-cost-of-living area in the hopes of housing their future kids there. Prior to the move, they’d been doing “amazing financially,” he said.

But they became so squeezed that children went on the back burner as “bringing a kid into this mess right now would kill us.”

OP (the original poster) set an ultimatum

Because money was giving the couple so much stress, the poster wrote he told his wife “one of two things needed to happen: We either sell the house or start making more money.”

Both parties were in low-paying jobs at the time, so the poster thought that meant they’d have to find different work altogether.

His wife loved her job and the house, so she tried to get a raise from her boss, which was not given to her. But in the six months since his ultimatum, the poster has found a new job and just signed a contract for 35k a year more than his previous role.

The post author claims his wife got annoyed because after he got the higher-paying role, he stipulated she’d definitely have to find a new job.

He stressed that without an added income on top of his pay rise, “Kids, the whole reason we got this damn house would be entirely off the table.”

Then, he and his wife hosted a dinner

The couple more or less blanked each other after the argument, but then the poster’s wife’s parents came over for dinner.

OP says his wife told her parents that maybe he’d stop complaining about money now he’d gotten his new job ― and what he said next silenced the table.

“I don’t know why I said it, but I replied, ‘Oh, don’t worry, Jen. I won’t have to worry about money a year from now because we’ll be divorced by then,’” he revealed.

“Things got quiet real quick after, and I excused myself. Her parents left shortly after, and she slept on the couch to avoid talking to me.”

He ended his post, “I’ve not talked to [his wife] or her parents since last night. Things are very cold between us right now, and I genuinely wonder if I did something last night that probably ruined my marriage.”

**People had thoughts in the comments**

Redditors didn’t seem to appreciate the poster’s approach to discussing his marriage.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried if you were wrong or not, you’ll be divorced a year from now,” one commenter wrote.

“You know how firearms experts tell people “don’t put your finger on the trigger unless you intend to fire?′ Yeah, don’t say the ‘D’ word unless you’re prepared to get D’d real hard,” another opined.

“I’m sorry, did you say, ‘I genuinely wonder if I did something last night that probably ruined my marriage?’” yet another site user incredulously asked.

“You told your wife you would be divorcing her within the year in front of her parents. If you can come back from that, it is going to be a LONG and HARD road. You have a right to be angry about everything going on, even a right to divorce her, but if you wanted to repair the marriage at all, that wasn’t the way to do it.”

What do you think?

Sam Taylor-Johnson Addresses Scrutiny Of 23-Year Age Gap With Husband

Posted on 11/04/2024 by Boris Clair

Filmmaker Sam Taylor-Johnson is acknowledging the intense scrutiny that she and husband Aaron Taylor-Johnson face over their age difference.

“There are times where it’s uncomfortable,” she told The Hollywood Reporter in an interview published Wednesday.

“Most of the time we zone it out and stay pretty private,” she added. “We tend to retreat. Kids and school runs keep you pretty grounded.”

The acclaimed Hollywood director is 57, while Aaron Taylor-Johnson, who is reportedly being considered as the next James Bond, is 33.

The two met while working on her directorial debut ― a 2009 John Lennon biopic called Nowhere Boy ― when the actor was in his late teens and she was in her early 40s.

The two welcomed their first child together, a daughter named Wylda Rae, in 2010. The couple had a second daughter, Romy Hero, shortly before they tied the knot in 2012.

Sam Taylor-Johnson, left, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson attend the premiere of "Bullet Train" on July 18, 2022, in Paris, France. — Sam Taylor-Johnson, left, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson attend the premiere of “Bullet Train” on July 18, 2022, in Paris, France.

Sam Taylor-Johnson also has two other daughters, Angelica and Jessie Phoenix Jopling, from a previous marriage.

Aaron Taylor-Johnson recently suggested to Rolling Stone UK that he’s always been mature for his age.

“What you gotta realise … is that what most people were doing in their twenties, I was doing when I was 13,” he said in an interview published last month.

“You’re doing something too quickly for someone else? I don’t understand that,” he added. “What speed are you supposed to enjoy life at? It’s bizarre to me.”

His wife seems to take a similar approach to relationships, saying in a Guardian story last week that she’s “quite instinctual” and moves at her own pace.

“I’ve gone feet first into everything in my life. I’m always, ‘This seems amazing’, and I jump straight in and go through the experience, whether good or bad,” she explained. “It’s definitely a ‘Fuck it, let’s go with it’ approach. And I’m a great believer that the heart overrides everything. Love conquers all.”

Sally Field ‘Can’t Imagine’ Getting Married Again For The Funniest Reason

Posted on 30/03/2024 by Boris Clair

Sally Field doesn’t believe the third time is the charm when it comes to marriage.

The Forrest Gump actor, who has been married twice, told Julia Louis-Dreyfus that she “can’t imagine” tying the knot again and laughed at the thought.

“It would certainly all depend on meeting somebody I wanted to spend more than 37 seconds with,” Field said on the latest episode of Louis-Dreyfus’ podcast, Wiser Than Me, released on Wednesday.

“So I don’t know,” the actor said as Louis-Dreyfus laughed.

“I was never really good at picking a partner for myself, and so I can’t blame them ― men. We were not a good match,” Field explained. “Several people that I was dating or around would say, ‘Why can’t you treat me the way you treat your sons?’ Uh, because you’re not my son…”

Sally Field attends the premiere of HBO's “Winning Time: The Rise of the Lakers Dynasty” on March 2, 2022, in Los Angeles. — Sally Field attends the premiere of HBO’s “Winning Time: The Rise of the Lakers Dynasty” on March 2, 2022, in Los Angeles.

“I’ve just never been good at picking a partner to be with who would be loving, and know me and not want to change me, and also be challenging to me, but wouldn’t be hoping that I would be less than what I am,” the Lincoln actor shared. “You know, [they would say] ‘Be less so that I don’t feel like I have to be more.’”

Field was previously married to Steven Craig and Alan Greisman ― and had a high-profile relationship when she dated her former co-star, Burt Reynolds.

While Reynolds has called Field the “love of my life,” Field has shared less than rosy memories of her on-and-off relationship with the actor.

Reynolds apparently “was not happy” when Field was up for Best Actress at the Oscars in 1980 and told his then-partner he “was not going to go” as her date to the ceremony. Field won Best Actress at both the Oscars and Cannes that year.

Field said, “He really was not a nice guy around me then.”

My Boyfriend Took Me To A Nudist Camp And It Changed Me In Ways I Never Saw Coming

Posted on 13/01/2024 by Boris Clair

For our first vacation together, Michael proposed we go camping.

As a 40-year-old lifelong New Yorker whose idea of “woodsy” was Central Park, this wasn’t my thing. Yet I wanted to be agreeable and expand my horizons. Browsing campsites online, Michael chose one that was all-male and clothing-optional.

Now I was terrified.

“Come on, what better way to get in touch with nature than being au naturel?” he asked.

“Until you get poison ivy or a tick in places you wouldn’t want to,” I quipped.

Still, days later I sat in the passenger seat as we drove through cornfields and nothingness in search of the campsite.

“I feel like we’re about to inspire a Stephen King story,” I said.

I was relieved when we found the entrance to the camp, marked by hand-painted letters on a rock, but wasn’t sure I wanted to proceed. Michael pointed out two men who were in their early 50s and dressed in calico button-downs.

“They look normal,” he said. I peered behind their backs to make sure they weren’t carrying hatchets before getting out of the car.

Checking in at the main office, we were greeted by a shirtless innkeeper ― a 6’4” bear with grey chest hair and double nipple rings. When he stepped out from behind the counter, I realised he was completely nude. I knew this place was clothing-optional, but I didn’t expect to see a guy’s … uh … s’mores … so soon.

“Here’s a map. I’ve circled a few trails. This one leads to the play area,” he said.

“Play area?” I asked.

“Gloryholes, slings. The usuals,” he replied, matter-of-factly.

“Ah, right. The usuals,” I blushed. I turned to Michael, hoping for a similar reaction but he was unfazed. A 45-year-old public health professor and “sexpert” who led workshops on sex education and well-being across college campuses, nothing ever made him turn red.

I admired Michael’s maturity, something he attributed to being the son of U.S. diplomats and growing up overseas. On our first date, a casual hamburger dinner we’d agreed upon after chatting for a month on OkCupid, I was smitten with his tales of living in Lebanon, Cyprus, the Philippines, Germany and Australia ― all before he was 10. Yet I worried I wasn’t sophisticated enough for him.

Unlike Michael, I grew up as a sheltered, closeted gay kid in a conservative Catholic family from Yonkers. My parents’ idea of an exotic vacation was the Jersey Shore. When I left home, at the age of 18, it was to move just 25 miles south to Manhattan. In my mid-20s, I still hadn’t fully come out and lacked the confidence and curiosity to go to sex parties or pick up men at bars, like my friends. In my older years, I felt like the world’s most boring gay guy. I was someone who enjoyed sex in a bed with the lights off, and my wild side was watching “The Golden Girls” and eating peanut M&Ms.

Michael assured me that my hang-ups didn’t matter. “I just want you to be comfortable,” he’d say. I tried my best. At times, I allowed myself to get out of the way and let his pragmatism and my whimsy intertwine in a way that felt both natural and nice. But despite our best efforts, being with someone who was so confident in himself, in and out of the bedroom, only made me feel insecure.

The innkeeper continued his rundown of the camp and pointed out the areas where guests needed to keep covered-up.

“Just near the road mostly. Some of the neighbours can be a bit stuffy,” he told us.

Glad you have standards, I thought, feeling like a total prude.

The author and Michael's accommodations at the campsite. — The author and Michael’s accommodations at the campsite.

Michael and I collected our belongings and walked to our cabin. I was surprised to find a charming little house that was remarkably clean, but grew uneasy when I couldn’t find the bathroom.

“There isn’t one in here, it’s shared,” Michael told me.

I freaked out. Apparently, I missed the concept of camping where beds and a roof were considered big-time luxuries. Sitting on our porch, I noticed we had a view of an outdoor shower, built on what looked like an altar. I wondered if we paid extra for that.

I hated this place but was determined to make the best of it. Michael and I did the usual camping things like boating and building a campfire, which I enjoyed. The other guests were all pretty friendly, if a bit cruise-y.

While Michael wasted little time shedding his clothes and his inhibitions, I remained a bit more reserved, eventually agreeing to go skinny-dipping. When a man yelled “yummy,” at me, I thought, Thanks? Wait, no, I’m taken.

But was I? Michael and I had been together for almost a year, but never used the word boyfriend. I assumed we were exclusive but we hadn’t actually discussed it. To be sure, I broached the subject later on a walk through the woods.

“I don’t like the term boyfriend. It makes me feel like I’m in the eighth grade,” Michael said.

“But I need a label,” I replied.

“Why?” he asked.

“So I know if I should be sleeping with other people or not,” I blurted out.

It was at this moment when we accidentally came upon the “play area.” It was a circle of some sex swings, a crucifix, and a port-a-potty with a hole on the side.

“Ewww, is that what I think it is?” I asked.

Michael confirmed, then took my hand. “Let’s keep walking,” he suggested.

“Do you want to try something?” I asked, sheepishly, and to my surprise. I wasn’t sure I actually wanted to give it a go, but I didn’t want to limit Michael’s experiences.

“This isn’t my thing,” he confessed. “This isn’t why I wanted to go away with you.”

I felt better but still couldn’t wait for camping to be over. Roughing it, clothing-optional or otherwise, wasn’t for me — especially having to leave the cabin to pee in the middle of the night. The next day, we drove a few hours and checked into a hotel. Our new room (with a private bathroom!) had a pink, heart-shaped Jacuzzi, mirrored walls, and a faux fireplace.

“You booked the honeymoon suite?” I asked. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“I got the last room they had, I didn’t know it was like this,” he said. I was disappointed, yet relieved. Finally, something that made him uncomfortable.

“Well, we have to try the tub,” I said, attempting to put some romance back into our trip. Later, we poured some wine and got in. I became lightheaded, nearly passed out, and felt sick for the rest of the night. Michael applied a cold washcloth to my forehead and we watched “Judge Judy.”

As Michael comforted me, I suddenly felt worse. When he’d asked me to go away with him, I was thrilled. I saw this as a pivotal moment in our relationship ― if things went well, maybe we’d discuss moving in together. But if this was a test, I’d failed. And not because I’d fallen ill.

The author and Michael celebrate Christmas with their dog, Ruby, a year after their trip.

Thinking back to Michael’s earlier comment at the play area ― “This isn’t why I wanted to go away with you” ― I realised that I’d been so focused on sex, and on myself, that I overlooked Michael’s acts of tenderness and his emotional needs. Worse yet, I’d reduced our relationship to “are we sleeping with other people or not” when it was so much more than that.

I wished we could go back to the woods and have a redo. Or, at the very least, I wanted to lift my head from that fake down pillow and admit the truth: I only want to be with you … because I’m falling in love with you.

I tried to say the words, but I choked. It was the first time I’d ever felt this way about someone and the emotions unnerved me. This probably wasn’t the best time to think about other men, but my mind drifted to past relationships. There weren’t many, but I started to see a pattern. I’d date a guy for a month or two and we’d mostly have sex and watch TV. We were physical, but not intimate. Then they’d dump me.

I always blamed myself. I was too cold, too guarded, said the wrong things. Yet things were different with Michael. I was still self-conscious, but his calm, patient demeanour helped me relax. I opened up in ways I didn’t expect, telling him about everything from how I spent my childhood battling leukaemia to my love for professional wrestling.

Now, as Michael laid next to me when his leg gently brushing against mine, I felt more secure than ever. But did he love me? What if the answer was no? What if he was only tolerating being with me because it was after midnight and we’d had four glasses of wine?

I’d already messed up so much that I feared saying the wrong thing and pushing him away for good, which would make for a really awkward drive home. I grabbed my phone and looked up bus schedules back to Manhattan just in case.

It took me 20 minutes to realise my insecurities were raging out of control. If Michael and I were going to move forward, I had to let myself be vulnerable. I finally found the courage when he fell asleep. I whispered I love you and it was barely audible and totally cheating, but at least the words were no longer just in my head.

Thankfully, Michael and I continued dating. A year later, he suggested another camping trip. I agreed, as long we picked a place where the cabins had bathrooms and the “play area” was reserved for badminton and archery.

Walking in the woods, Michael reminded me of the moment I’d asked him if he was my boyfriend. While that term still didn’t feel right, it wouldn’t be long before we discovered the best word to call one another — husband.

The author and Michael on their wedding day, two years after their vacation at the nudist camp.

Mark Jason Williams has written for The Washington Post, Out, and Salon. He is working on an essay collection, “You’d Be Cuter with a Deeper Voice,” hilarious and heartbreaking tales of growing up gay and Catholic, facing leukaemia, and how having a high-pitched voice wreaked havoc on his love life.

My Wife Of 45 Years Died. I Thought I Truly Knew Her — Until I Discovered Her Journals

Posted on 11/11/2023 by Boris Clair

“Feel her toes and feet. When they turn cold, you’ll know. You’ll know she’s ready to go,” the hospice nurse told me. “Human bodies are predictable.” She had witnessed life’s final act hundreds of times.

This was my Sue’s 13th day in hospice. I held her hand, still warm.

My wife of almost 45 years, my Sue, lay motionless, life draining from her body.

Her thin, grey hair fell in tufts around her head. Her eyes were closed. Her body was a wisp under the blankets. Her breathing was shallow. Her cold toes pointed toward the ceiling, and I wrapped my fingers around her heels. They felt hard, as if they were only bones, and the coldness was like a wetness that I couldn’t get off my hands, even though I kept wiping them on my pants, a towel and the bedspread.

Sue arched her back as if she were trying to touch her shoulders together and then her body fell back, relaxed, and was still.

She died at 10:22am, April 18, 2018.

No pulse, no heartbeat, no finger squeeze like the day before.

Sue was 73, killed by breast cancer that had gone undiagnosed for years despite regular checkups. The radiologist had missed the malignancy hiding behind scar tissue, and it spread without mercy.

Sue gave me instructions when she knew she was dying: “Think about one thing you’ll do right after I die. Just do the one thing, and then do another and then another.”

Sue is pictured meeting her sixth grandchild, just six weeks before she died.

She understood me. If I thought about the enormity of losing her, I might go nuts, or do impulsive and stupid things. I had done many impulsive and stupid things in my life, which is why my father called me Schmendrick (a Yiddish term for a stupid person or fool).

Wasn’t the fact that Sue and I were together proof of my ability to jump headfirst into situations that many people would consider foolish?

I knew Sue was smarter than me, and she was right: The first moment without her was paralysing, so I did nothing.

I just stood there holding her hand. If I let go, the hospice staff would take her body away. She would no longer exist. She would be erased, other than in our memories. I couldn’t bear that, and I was not ready. Sue had known I wouldn’t be.

I couldn’t cry. I was silent. I looked at my daughters, my two-month-old grandson, and then back at Sue.

I waited for her to tell me what to do, how to react, how to feel and when to leave, as she had always done. I needed her to tell the family when to gather again. I needed her to explain this death.

“Just do the one thing,” I heard her say again in my head.

People thought Sue was shy. Pleasant. Practical. She kept her emotions tight inside her. I reasoned that Sue was stoic — a person who could endure pain without complaining, and handle life’s inevitable deep hurts and disappointments without sharing the load. And I never asked her directly about her emotions.

After 45 years, I thought I knew her. But I didn’t.

Days after she died, I pulled out a wedding-day photograph from June 26, 1973. Sue, 29, looks like a delicate hippie goddess with her long brown hair and peasant dress. I am 26. Skinny, redheaded, bearded, an eager Schmendrick ready to smash the glass under my foot at our wedding ceremony, under the chuppah, and in one firm stomp.

We broke with Jewish tradition and decided that both of us would smash a glass. This was all new to Sue, who grew up on a farm in Union City, Pennsylvania, as a Presbyterian.

“Whatever you do,” I said, “Don’t miss the glass. That’s lifelong bad luck.”

Sue’s stomp was tentative, and the glass rolled out from under her foot. Perhaps, at that moment, she realised how hard it would be to put her foot down when it came to me.

The author and Sue's wedding day, June 26, 1973. — The author and Sue’s wedding day, June 26, 1973.

No wonder she was nervous. We had met 10 months before that photo was taken. We worked together at Penn State. She was married, in the process of divorcing her husband of seven years, with a four-year-old daughter, Cathy, and another daughter who wasn’t mine on the way.

During our first lunch date, Sue said she knew early on that she never should have married her first husband. I didn’t ask why. I was distracted by the sexy dip in her upper lip, her tender smile, her soft voice, and how her body fit with mine.

I had proved myself a screw-up in ways that mattered to most people. I got kicked out of Penn State’s undergraduate school, and had to claw my way back to get my bachelor’s degree in international economics and then my master’s in psycholinguistics. Sue got a master’s scholarship from Penn State in horticulture. I was going to get a Ph.D. scholarship from the University of Wisconsin and Sue told me that she would go with me, but only if we got married.

Yep, Sue wanted to marry Schmendrick. She had two little girls who depended on her, yet somehow this smart woman decided she would depend on me. Trust me. That she needed me.

Sue was the most mature woman I had ever dated. Did I marry her to show the world I wasn’t a screw-up? I realised that I needed to be mothered by a person who was more centred than me. And being a father gave me a serious job. I adopted Cathy and Cristene, who was just seven months old when Sue and I got married. Our daughter Jessica came along in 1980.

I did many things to show the world, like getting my Ph.D., becoming a university dean, and attaining wide recognition for my international work. I started the first private business school in Central and Eastern Europe, in Budapest, Hungary.

Our lives seemed to roll along like a Lexus that was comfortable and dependable, until Sue got terminal cancer. I became numb and couldn’t cry following her death. Still, I somehow managed to “just do the one thing,” like keeping appointments and arranging her memorial … until I couldn’t.

The author and Sue's daughters (from left): Cristene, Jessica and Cathy. — The author and Sue’s daughters (from left): Cristene, Jessica and Cathy.

Two months after Sue’s death, I walked into an optometrist’s office. The receptionist had a frowning face and a bored smirk, which I suspected was from asking the same questions every 15 minutes: “Name? Insurance? Address?” I answered each one rapidly.

“Marital status?” she asked.

Marital status? I panicked. I am married. Wait, no, I’m not. I’m single — well, sort of. Am I a widower who is single? A single person who had a wife, and therefore a widower? Am I still married without a spouse?

The receptionist asked again, “Sir, marital status?”

“Widower,” I said out loud for the first time. When I left the appointment, I sobbed in the parking lot the way that most people cry the day of a person’s death. I felt a gut-twisting feeling: I may not stop crying.

That’s the day I understood how little I knew about what was happening to me. I felt as if a part of me had been amputated, and I had no idea what was left.

That’s the day my grieving started for real and became a constant companion.

Then I did what I’d always done when confronted with a challenge: read others’ experiences in research, memoirs and fiction, watched films, and talked to people.

I watched Ricky Gervais’ fictional TV series After Life and saw how his character struggled with losing his wife. I could relate to everything he felt. His anger was mine. My anger came out at family gatherings, when I insisted that my daughters tell me how they felt, and at work, where I found myself defying authority.

Grieving became a chisel. It broke away the shell of what I had believed about Sue, myself and our relationship, and forced me to see that I didn’t know Sue deeply.

We had used unspoken rules of conduct, dimmed our intimacy and foiled self-inspection. I learned that despite our years together, Sue had locked away secrets. We used loving gestures and words to avoid authentic and painful truths — what Buddhists call “near enemies.” We never asked each other the important question: “Who are you in the deepest part of your heart and soul?”

My Sue left a few handwritten notes in books and files around the house, as well as several journals. When I began to read them, I found that she was not stoic. She had plenty of painful thoughts that she’d never said out loud.

“I think I hate him,” she once wrote, referring to me.

Shayna Punim (Yiddish for "beautiful face"), the author's chow chow/shepherd mix. — Shayna Punim (Yiddish for “beautiful face”), the author’s chow chow/shepherd mix.

I was successful but chronically bored, so I hopped around impulsively, securing jobs in various cities and dragging Sue and the kids with me. I was blind to her desires, and she was reluctant to rip me a new one.

I never knew that she hated our move to Pittsburgh in 1990, our seventh relocation since 1973, including one to Budapest. I learned from her journals that Sue had been tired of the changes, but she never said so to me. She picked out two Pittsburgh houses she liked. We had to buy one quickly, and I chose the wrong one. Sue asked me to walk away from the deal the day of signing. Why didn’t I?

Was that why she hated me? Or was it because she wanted to get her Ph.D. in horticulture, a desire I discovered in her journals, yet my demands took precedent over hers? Or was it that I did not see her for who she was? And if she had something to say, why didn’t she say it out loud?

I went to therapy after her death and kept reading. I was forced to unravel the assumptions that we had based our lives upon. I felt lost about who she was at the core. My feelings were like that glass I had shattered under my foot all those years ago — broken and unfixable.

My therapist diagnosed me with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, a neurodifference that makes me impulsive, lose focus, and have trouble using my brain’s executive functioning. My mind wanders like a pinball machine, a series of hyperlinks, tying together thoughts that have minimal connections. My teachers and parents, unaware of my ADHD, had told me, “You need to focus and try harder.” I was focusing and trying hard by attending to multiple things at once and moving fast.

I spent most of my time with Shayna Punim, the dog Sue got one year before she died so that I’d have a companion.

I began dating six months after Sue died — another example of my impulsive behaviour. I swiped left and right on eHarmony. As Mary-Frances O’Connor said in the book The Grieving Brain, my brain was searching for what it lost, and I thought finding another woman would resolve that search. It didn’t. I felt more lost, less in touch with myself, and more confused about Sue and what we had together.

It took Sue’s words — “just do the one thing” — to keep me from doing too many impulsive and stupid things, like marrying the first woman who bought me a scotch at a bar.

My therapy, dating, research and discussions have helped me realise grief can be a stern, persistent teacher.

Sue Fogel: June 15, 1944, to April 18, 2018.

I see how much pain I caused by not recognising Sue’s needs, and not asking what she wanted and why.

I see Sue when I look at the garden she planted, the place where we spread her ashes. The flowers bloom anew, year after year … and so does my hope that I’ll discover more about her and myself.

I want another chance to ask my Sue all my questions, but I am not going to get it.

Still, despite what I learned about Sue after she died, I know that journals and diaries tell only part of the story. I don’t doubt that Sue loved me ― and I know that I loved and still love her ― but I now realise that her life might not have been exactly the life I thought it was. But isn’t that the way for all of us? How much do we share ― even with our closest loved ones ― and how much do we keep hidden? How much is left unsaid across almost half a century?

Why do we do this? And at what cost to us, and to the ones we love? What’s most important for me now is to understand more about Sue, who she was, and to reconsider my own life ― then and now. How can I honour my Sue as I knew her and as I didn’t? How can I take responsibility for the mistakes I made? Maybe it begins with this essay. Maybe my true grieving starts with processing who I was with Sue, who I am now — without her — and who I want to be going forward. As Sue said, just do the one thing.

Dan Fogel is a semiretired academic and entrepreneur living north of Charlotte, North Carolina, on Lake Norman. He spends most of his time writing and completing his memoir, visiting with family and friends, and walking with his dog, Shayna Punim. His academic career includes research, publications, teaching and consulting focused on environmental sustainability principles and practices in organizations. This work took him to various parts of the world, most notably Western, Central and Eastern Europe, and South America. You can find him at SP3 and dan@spthree.com.

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I’m A Queer Woman Who Left My Marriage In The Hasidic Community. There’s One Thing People Don’t Understand.

Posted on 29/09/2023 by Boris Clair

Over brunch on the Upper East Side, a new acquaintance looks into my eyes and asks, “Is it OK to say, like, congratulations on getting away from all that?”

I’ve just told her about my Hasidic upbringing, about leaving the community and the husband I married at 19. Every time I share this with someone new, it feels like I’ve dropped a grenade into the centre of our conversation.

“Of course!” I say. “Thank you so much.” I keep it simple. The blast of my disclosure has already filled up the space in the room.

Walking home, I think about my new acquaintance spending her young adulthood in a college dorm. While she was rushing a sorority, I was embedded into an entirely different circle of women. Instead of dressing up for frat parties, mine sat in prayer groups and exchanged numbers for local wig stylists.

I got married in 2004. Someone named Britney kept showing up on the cover of magazines in the supermarket checkout lines, flashing her tan stomach while I chose to keep my eyes on my own calf-length skirt. I’d just moved to Lakewood, New Jersey, with a man with whom I had shared six formal dates and then a wedding.

The presence of the largest American yeshiva (a religious college where Bible study was the only subject) and the low real estate prices meant that Lakewood was a hub for young, vibrant, God-fearing couples like us. The identical beige townhouses were filled with black-hatted husbands and modestly dressed wives who agreed to follow laws such as keeping kosher, observing the Sabbath, and the one newest to me: observing family purity.

It was a system designed to protect our relationship; we agreed to touch each other only during the “clean” days of each month, and to abstain from touch each month for the length of my menstrual period, plus for seven blood-free days afterward.

During the months before my wedding, my bridal teacher had taught me to swipe a square white cloth inside my vagina twice on each of my clean days. But weeks after my wedding, on day six of my seven clean days, I hit a complication. There was a splotch on my tissue in the morning light. I wasn’t sure whether the stain was big enough to require that I start counting my seven clean days all over again.

Sighing, I scrawled my husband’s phone number on the outside of an envelope, placed my tissue inside, and dropped it in the mailbox of the rabbi who would hold my specimen up to the daylight, scrutinise the edges of the blood stains, and call my husband.

But the rabbi was unable to rule on the blood without more information, information that must come from my physical body. “There is a lady for these situations,” he said, and then gave us a phone number.

“Mammele, do you usually bleed like this?”

The woman held a tissue up, drops of my blood smeared on the dull white cloth. I held onto the sides of what seemed like a makeshift gynaecologic exam table in the middle of her husband’s study.

My bare feet were in the stirrups, as instructed, my skirt pulled up to my waist, my vagina on the other side of a floral yellow sheet. In the eight weeks since my marriage, it had been penetrated by a man’s naked part for the very first time, then a doctor’s speculum and a white linen cloth four inches square, and now the woman’s fingers.

I, however, was instructed never to touch myself, unless it was before going in a ritual bath. Then I was to inspect every crevice of my body in front of a full-length mirror, checking for loose hairs or bits of fluffy tissue. I re-read my bridal class notes every week, determined to get it all right.

“No. I mean, I don’t know,” I said to the woman’s headscarf, bowed below my waist. Her sharp fingers poked inside me, but my gratitude was so much greater than the discomfort.

Please make me pure, I begged the One Above, as I pushed the stiff brown bangs of my wig back from my hot face. I thought about my mother and my four older sisters, all of whom kept small white squares for the inspection of their own menstrual blood in their bedside tables. I wished they could be with me, holding my hand and telling me whether the blood we shared was prone to leaking out of us in between periods.

I had been taught to keep those matters private, though, just between husband, wife, and essential rabbinic personnel.

“I will call the rabbi for you, Mammele,” she said, a phone propped between her ear and shoulder. I heard God’s trusted servant talk to the rabbi about the shade of my blood, the amount of it. I tried to sit up, but she motioned me back down.

I wondered if her husband used the study at night, if he smelled the trepidation of the women who had been there during the day, legs splayed in the middle of the room, his wife’s head between them. I wondered if she washed the sheet. I also wondered when it would be appropriate to put my vagina away, but as I watched her write the rabbi’s words on a scrap of paper, I remembered what we both knew.

My body no longer belonged to me.

“Kosher!” she said, a smile breaking up her worried face for the first time in our encounter. “You may continue to count your seven days!”

“What did the rabbi say?” I asked, sitting up, folding the sheet behind my thighs.

She was already shuffling the papers together, shoving them into a drawer. She turned back toward me, looked at my face as if she had forgotten it had been there the whole time.

“It was blood from the outside area, from some little shaving cuts or something, but it is not menstrual blood.” I was allowed to shave, but I swallowed a flicker of embarrassment for having indulged in a practice that would put my day count in question.

But I was clean! Relief hit me. I could serve God now, and my husband.

When she left the room so I could “put myself together,” I heard her through the curtain, soothing a baby. I hoped that God was watching my devotion, that He would bless me with a house filled with children of my own very soon.

Thirteen years later, after birthing two children, divorcing my first husband, then marrying and divorcing a second Jewish man, I realised I would never be able to relax near a naked male body. The dreams I had of women weren’t going away. I couldn’t pray it away. I couldn’t even marry it away.

And more: I could no longer believe in a God who would demand sacrifices of flesh and heart.

I moved out of the shtetl, to New York City, where I shucked the fear and self-loathing and dated women out in the open, sharing passionate kisses on city streets.

In the nearly two decades after that woman took time out of her busy day to inspect my blood and deem me pure, I saw the shape of her kindness come through the hands and hearts of other women. It was delivered in platters of home-cooked pastries, baskets of onesies for my babies, and phone calls to see how I am feeling from women I barely know. But the thick rope of that kindness began to fray as I changed, as I slowly snuck one toe at a time outside of my closet doors.

I know I will never again meet a woman and undergo a pro bono ritualistic vaginal exam in her living room within minutes of saying hello. Mostly, that is really excellent news.

But a small part of me, underneath the broken section of my heart, will miss that forever. I miss the ability to skip the preamble with someone who has been on the same exact wavelength since birth. I miss operating in sync with a platoon of people marching toward a clear vision of heaven.

Sometimes, I even miss having my blood flow onto the same cloths that my sisters use, that my mother, and grandmother, and her mother used, too. By leaving the rituals and rules, the white examination cloths and the pro bono exams, I left all of them behind, too. The people.

As I walk along the East River in rainbow-striped workout pants, I think about the way I ended the conversation with my very sweet and thoughtful acquaintance at brunch. It has been habitual, since I left the enclave, my careful shuttering of myself. I smile and nod and say I’m fine, even when I feel the echo of loneliness in my entire being.

The “congratulations” offered to me over this morning’s cafe table hovers in my mind and, for a moment, I want to turn around, walk back, give the celebratory word right back. I want to be honest, for once, and say that congratulations, while a generous sentiment, is too shiny for what I have experienced.

I am not sure what response phrase can encompass all of it, but it’s something more textured, like my natural, loose hair waving in the breeze. Something like: I wish gentleness for you ― and for all who have loved you.

Dr. Sara Glass is a psychotherapist, speaker, and writer in NYC. She has published pieces in The New York Times, The Daily News, and Psychology Today. Her memoir, “Kissing Girls on Shabbat,” is in publication with Simon & Schuster, with a scheduled release date in June 2024. You can follow her on Instagram @drsaraglass.