And here we go...

So, my marriage is over. It doesn’t matter why anymore. What matters is now and how I can wake up and feel fabulous every day. I’m not talking about feeling fabulous in a new outfit or having a good hair and make-up day; I’m talking about walking tall, exuding confidence, knowing what I want, looking damn fine, and knowing that I’m exactly where I should be. That, my friends, is fabulous.

I was married for 15 years and knew at about the 5-year mark that it wasn’t going to last forever. When we finally said the words that we had tried not to say for so long, I was devastated. Afraid of being alone, afraid of disappointing others, nervous about finances, heartbroken for my two boys, all combined with a complete lack of self-confidence and self-worth, resulted in the shedding of enough tears to burst the Hoover Dam. I thought my life was over and that I was doomed to live the next few years in an insecure, lonely fog. I could not have been more wrong. Realizing that I had to take control of my life was nothing short of frightening. But taking control of my life and my body has been more cathartic than I ever would have imagined. Little did I know of the incredible confidence that only those of us in our 40’s can possess, coming from years of experiences, lessons, proverbial kicks in the ass, introspection, and perspective. I can say, “yes, please” or “fuck, no” to whatever and whomever I want and I can rid my environment of everything that brings the remotest hint of negative energy to my mental space. It’s all about embracing the moment and letting go. And feeling great. Oh, and good sex too.

 The first time I had sex after we separated was crazy. I had met and chatted with a man online who seemed harmless, made me laugh, and was sexy to boot. We agreed to meet for a coffee at lunchtime. Needless to say, I was excited and nervous but determined to play it cool. I dressed casually wearing dark wash jeans, a fitted blazer-style jacket, a feminine shirt, and of course I threw in my knee-high black boots ‘cause they’re so damn sexy and I knew he’d like them. I was ready to share witty conversation, give him a playful look here and there while politely sipping my coffee, make plans for the next meeting (of course there would be a next meeting), and maybe share a kiss and a quick feel before saying good-bye. I was not remotely prepared for what transpired. When he walked in and looked at me he literally stopped in his tracks. He stared at me for a couple of seconds, during which I smiled demurely (yes, I was demure), and then he walked to where I was in the line-up. We gave one another a brief kiss on the cheek and said hello before choosing a table. Once seated, he was like a nervous schoolboy. He would reach for my hand and look right into my eyes and then turn away as if he was about to be caught doing something naughty. After some small talk, he told me that I was absolutely gorgeous, even more gorgeous than I appeared online. “Fuck, you are absolutely beautiful”, he said. “Wow!”, he exclaimed. “I had no idea,” he gushed. Had I received such compliments a month before, I would have felt like crawling under a rock like a slug and hiding, thinking that such words would never be spoken to me and not believing that could be true and being embarrassed, or even ashamed, by them. But now here I was, single, feeling kinda sexy and curious, and I lapped it up like a regal golden retriever. I sat straighter, I held myself differently, I batted my baby blues that he said were so pretty, and I strategically changed positions so that a little breast would be revealed. It drove him crazy, which of course, turned me on and gave me that unfamiliar but exhilarating feeling of power. Whoa, I liked it. And he liked it. He grabbed my hand and said, “let’s go”. We left our full lattes on the table, went to his car, drove to a semi-private place, and let the games begin. This should have caught me off guard given the fact that my husband and I had let our sex life slide so drastically and neither of us had showed much interest in a session of lovemaking for a very long time. I had felt unattractive, unloved, and unworthy. Yet here I was in the back of a car talking dirty and hungrily participating in a hot, steamy romp with a guy I had just met. It was magnificent. I felt like a goddess. We finished just in time for me to go pick up my son from school. When I arrived at the school, a good friend of mine took one look at me and told me that she hadn’t seen me looking so happy in months. In a quiet voice that was at least an octave higher than my usual tone I said with pure glee, “IJUSTMETAGUYFORACOFFEEANDWEHADAQUICKIEINHISCAR!”. She laughed like a demon, hugged me, and sadly informed me that her lunch consisted of a cup of tea and a bowl of soup. I win.