I am going to refrain from going into too much detail and say that I, like most women, have one awful ex. I’ve dated lots of dudes in my years on the scene and there is no other man that compares to him in the badness department. I’ve lived with a low-level and persistent fear of running into him. I’m not afraid of him, but rather afraid of how I would behave if I saw him.
Keep reading »
Picture this. You’re surrounded by demons in the mist of an enchanted forest. The Pirate King Sirron has overtaken the portal to Hell and has, through dark magic, bent Demogorgon the Demon Prince to his will. The full force of the Underworld is against you. You, a strong bull-man Paladin Knight, accompanied by a Dwarf, a Cleric, an Elf and a Sorcerer (respectively named Ryan, Phil, George and Steve). This, my friends, is Dungeons & Dragons.
Perhaps this is not where you’d expect to find a bright, bubbly, blonde, violently-sexy and overly-confident comedian. But a few months back, I found myself in this very scenario, sitting in a room full of nerds. One of three girls in the whole place—and the only one that looked like she’d been out of her apartment in the past three months—I realized that, by default, I was an absolute babe. Whoa, I thought to myself. I am the Megan Fox of Dungeons & Dragons right now.
Keep reading »
I’m fairly certain that I have an addictive personality. I’ve avoided drugs, gambling, cigarettes, and alcohol based on those suspicions, and likely will continue to do so until my dying day. But I got blindsided by my own addictive tendencies when I discovered the joys of personal style. After years of hating my body, I finally figured out that I could look and feel fabulous if I simply dressed to highlight my favorite physical features. It was an absolute revelation, and sparked a new-found, fervent love of clothing, shoes, and accessories. Soon, I fell into some pretty ridiculous and harmful shopping behaviors, the repercussions of which came to a head about three years ago. I had allowed my debt to grow exponentially over several seasons of frenzied acquisition. I’d begun making mental bargains with myself about how another $200 on the ol’ MasterCard wouldn’t make THAT much of a difference in my monthly payment, and I definitely needed those new Frye boots before fall arrived. I’d dug myself into quite a hole, and felt utterly incapable of clawing my way out. Keep reading »
When I was in sixth grade, my boyfriend told me he didn’t care that I was fat. He loved me anyway, just as I was.
It was something along the lines of, “Tom and all those guys say you’re really big, but it doesn’t matter to me.” And instead of hearing the part about his acceptance of me, all I heard was that people thought I was fat. This was news to me, as I’d never thought about my own size, weight, or shape in any way before that moment. Never considered that other people were looking at me and judging me. It was an absolute revelation. And although I give him credit for trying to soften the blow and explain that he could care less, it still changed me. For the worse.
I started dieting immediately, and continued to diet for the next 13 years. On and off, of course, which meant that my weight fluctuated quite a bit. I’ve been 30 pounds heavier than I am today, and 20 pounds lighter. I’ve done Slim Fast, Lean Cuisines, and all manner of book-based food plans. Most recently, in 2004, my husband and I undertook the South Beach Diet. I lost 40 pounds over the course of those excruciatingly carb-free months, then slowly gained back 12 of them over the ensuing years. And although following a different prescribed dietary plan, formulated and tested by weight loss experts, might get those 12 pounds back off, I won’t do it. I refuse to diet ever again. Here’s why. Keep reading »
I was finishing college when I met my husband, Jason*, a carefree, polite Australian with dreamy blue eyes and shaggy brown hair who was on an extended working holiday. The attraction to his laissez faire personality and quirky accent was arguably a naive American girl’s knee-jerk reaction to a breakup with a controlling and insecure Brit. Yet, it is undeniable that our romance was of Hollywood screenwriting caliber. Set in the picturesque town of St. Andrews, Scotland — ironically at the same time and place where Prince William courted Duchess Catherine — I allowed this delicious Aussie, four years my senior, to sweep me off my feet. We strolled hand-in-hand through ruins on the beaches that lined the North Sea, snuck kisses in-between pints at our favourite pubs on Sunday afternoons, and celebrated my graduation from St. Andrews University in the company of my entire family, who embraced him immediately. I knew he was a keeper when he broke into the Royal and Ancient Golf Club where he worked to show me the grandiose dining room, which had banned women patrons centuries ago.
Nonetheless, reality always finds a way to spoil the fairytale. Soon after graduation, I returned to my parents’ house in Connecticut and Jason returned to his native Australia. While most flings abroad are retired, Jason and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we might be soul mates. We agreed to take a stab at our fledging union and if it didn’t work, we would walk away with dignity and respect knowing that we tried our best. Thus began a journey that far outweighed the rarity of our early beginnings as Jason and B.B. Truly, what was most unforeseen was not the juggling of the typical long-distance relationship, but where this brand of relationship took us and the questions we inevitably had to answer. Keep reading »
We’ve been seeing each other for years; short, weekly sessions that often leave me enlightened, teary-eyed, or with a skip in my step. Ours is one of the most gratifying relationships I’ve ever had, defined by an openness and comfort level that allows for complete honesty. It took a little while to get there and I was certainly guarded at first, but now? Well, I wouldn’t know where I would be without her.
She’s my therapist. She knows everything about me. But sometimes I wish I knew more about her. Keep reading »