We wrote letters for years, regularly in our early to mid teens and then less so as we got older. At 18 I moved to university and then on to varying towns and cities and though our letters became less regular the foundation had been laid.

I gave up on my career and myself and turned my attention to our future. His friends told him I was the marrying kind and we got engaged. He got promoted. The mirror told me I was old enough. But at 26, I had stopped growing.

Friendship evolves so much as you get older. It’s harder to make friends, to stay in touch with those friends, to keep nurturing and growing those friendships. Life can get in the way, despite our best efforts.

At first, learning to be secure without latching on to someone else caused all sorts of panic and alarms going off internally. But my mission needed to persevere, I had to know I was enough to find happiness on my own.

I could not handle the mediocrity any longer. I was 38 years old and life with my husband felt stagnant; 10 years together without moving forward, no house, no kids, and debt was high.

Two years after the end of that relationship, and I am finally free from a lifetime of self-hatred. I have worked tirelessly through my issues, challenging old thought patterns and beliefs, doing the work to heal myself.

My cynicism has never served me well. Throughout my life, I was touted as two things: the mean girl or the sarcastic girl. Both labels I wore proudly.

What people don’t tell you when you get married is what happens to your self-confidence after the marriage ends. You feel unwanted.

The truth is a global pandemic brought the world to its knees and dared us to act on what we were truly seeing. I have never felt so torn to watch so-called friends fall off like flies and new ones blossom like a fresh flower.

I’ll never forget hearing my name called out with such joy by a man I had only met once before, or how it felt to be seen by someone who, incredibly, had no sight at all. I didn't know at that point about the superpowers of the blind. Being recognized simply by the sound of my voice felt like sorcery.

Quarantine will lead to bigger families or broken families. Here is a third story. Quarantine will lead to stronger families with deeper bonds, closer connections, slower paces, and renewed love.

The jury is still out on whether the stranger on the front row stared at me because he thought I was cute, or it was just lipstick on my teeth. What I do know is—he’s the stranger I fell in love with. I don’t know if I believe in love at first sight, but if I did, he would be proof of it. When he stood up to speak, I knew in an instant that my life had been altered forever.

My tears were tears of mourning. Mourning the end of 8 years of marriage, 13 years of a relationship, and ALL that comes with that. Mourning the end of my married self, the loss of my identity as I had known it for what felt like a lifetime.

We all have at least one Lone Wolf in our circles – the self-sufficient queen (or king) of multitasking who never asks for help but is the first person to drop what they’re doing to help you.

My heart has been broken a few times unfortunately, each time it was devastating and sent me on a mental and emotional roller coaster that has been the marathon I wish I had never begun.

The Golden Rule is drilled into us from the time we are verbal, but people don’t always want to be treated the way we do. Oftentimes they need something different from us and sometimes we fail to recognize that.

Walking the few blocks home, I wonder if it’s time to get back in the game again, the dating game. I mean, I’m definitely open to the idea of meeting someone even though I’m just watching from the sidelines.

I went out to a bar with a couple of my girlfriends from work. I lived a very sheltered life in my youth, so going to a bar for the first time at 24 was an eye-opening experience. There were people everywhere. The music, the energy, and feeling seen... it was intoxicating. I spent most of my life trying to hide from people, but I found myself enjoying the attention I was receiving. It was like electricity crackling every time I felt eyes on me.

I was 14 years old; a shy, nervous, freshman who had just gotten her braces off. He was two years older; tall, confident, a good singer. We started dating, much to the dismay of my parents, and before I knew it, I was in the type of relationship that was meant for someone much older than me.