516. A Year and Change
Posted by Lucy on January 7th, 2010. Filed under: Uncategorized.I’m not afraid of aging. I’m really not. That’s because I don’t age, not since I was 24.
Okay, let me rephrase: My mental image of myself doesn’t age. Physically, I age. Since the age of 24, I’ve put on forty pounds, two kids, one husband, endless grays, and a few face lines. But in my head, I’m still 24. The only time I do not feel and act as though I am still 24 are those short moments (I keep them deliberately short) when I stare at myself in the mirror and think, “Hi, Mom.”
Either way, though, I’m not afraid of aging. I don’t give in to it – I dye my hair, I wear makeup, I moisturize and try to get enough water and sleep – but I’m not afraid of it. I’m looking forward to it. If you’re not aging, you’re dead, and I quite prefer aging.
But now, I’m staring down the barrelhead of forty. I have – give me a moment to calculate, carry the one… ah – 516 days until I turn forty. A year and change. I don’t fret the Big Ones too much – it’s the little ones that sneak up on you and accumulate while you’re not looking – but it’s as good a day as any to shoot for.
Shoot for what, you ask? Change. While I have lost all the things that were good about me at 24 – the anti-gravity boobs, the unlined face, the boundless energy and the ability to wear short skirts – I have kept many of the bad things. The willful ignorance of my own feelings and motivations; the lack of understanding of where I came from and where I’m going; the need to not be a burden while taking on as many burdens as I can carry; the certainty that I understood how the world worked, what was good and what was bad, and how I fit into the whole big mess.
There is nothing, Dear Reader, more damaging than certainty.
But now, here I am, fourteen years later, piling revelation upon revelation and wondering how it was possible for me to be so blind for so long. The simple answer is this: It was possible for me to be that blind because it worked. I kept running, kept moving forward, kept all the balls up in the air. It wasn’t until my fuel tank emptied and left me only with fumes to run on that I began to wonder if, perhaps, I’d forgotten to consider something.
Now, I’m considering. And, I’m going to blog it. I don’t blog much, mostly because I’m not reliable. I like to do what I like when I feel like it, I already have enough have-to’s* in my life. Also, when I blog, I’m cute and funny, not necessarily honest and, as I mentioned, my cute-and-funny fuel gauge is below the E line. But with a beginning and an end to this endeavor, 516 days of blogging every day with honesty, serving up not a superficial layer of charm and wit but the ragged truth of my experience, utilizing this new way of thinking that I think might save me… I can do that.
I think.
Another goal is to share, just that. Generally, I don’t do that. I’m not courageous with my most intimate thoughts. I don’t care what you think about me as long as you’re not thinking about me, and it’s easy not to be thought about when the real me is hiding behind the tap-dance that is the public me. But there’s something about the kind of courage it takes to share something real, and intimate, and unflattering that I think would be good for my growth. Because right now, I’m all about the growth. I have to be.
I have left my husband.
That’s another reason why I don’t like sharing, because of him. He didn’t cheat, he didn’t beat me, he wasn’t drinking or on drugs. At the beginning, I said, “Don’t do those things, and we won’t have any problems.” I didn’t lie, I was just tragically naive about what it takes to keep a marriage afloat. I thought I could do it all on my own, without any help. By the time we both realized that wasn’t going to work, it was too late. He lacked the skills to take the helm, and I lacked the ability to keep rowing for both of us. That’s, basically, all there is to it, and it is not his fault any more than it was mine.
Still, I hesitate to share this journey because inevitably, some of the light I shine on myself will leak onto him, and he deserves his privacy. So I’ll try to make this as little about him as possible; truly, this year and change is not about him, although it is about the Before and After of me, and he defined quite a bit of the Before. So, there will be talk of my husband, known to the world at large – my little world, at least – as Fish, and I hope he will forgive me for the places where he’s included.
But the thing is this. For the years up until right now, today, I was a person who was likeable enough, successful enough, happy enough. It is not important at all to be likeable, so I’ll leave that there. Successful is all in the definition, and that, I’ll keep. I like my success where it is, and while I have just signed with publishing’s most star-making editor, and it is a possibility that the nature of my success might morph a bit with her at the helm, I feel like the big jump in my success professionally has already occurred; I have written books, and people have loved them. Not all people; some people out there truly hate me and I wish them well in their abhorrence, may it warm their toes on cold, cold nights. But some people have loved the books, some people have been cheered by them and have laughed because of them, and that’s all I truly ask of success.
Well, that and enough money to feed and clothe my children. We’re working on part two.
It’s the ‘happy enough’ part where I stumble. And I don’t know that it’s truly happiness I’m after, so much as peace. I am angry over things that happened a long time ago, and I can’t be peaceful with that. I feel guilty over things that I have no business feeling guilty about, and I feel a deep sadness which I need to feel, but have traditionally never allowed myself to feel. For thirty-eight years, I have put on a happy face and joked my way to an appearance of happiness in order to keep the people in my life from worrying about me. Now, I’d like to create a true happiness, contentedness, peacefulness and have my face reflect what’s really going on inside. So… that’s the goal.
Anyway, it’s 516 days, 516 blogs (hopefully, I will try, every day) until the day I turn forty, and at that point, I will be new. The first Lucy March book will hit shelves just slightly before that, and that’s a good way to launch my forties professionally. I will be officially, legally divorced for hopefully almost a year by then; that’s a good way to launch my forties personally. I hope I will be less angry, more contemplative, less heavy, both in mind and body, and more open and courageous. That is all I want from these 516 days.
Wish me luck.
*Yes, that’s a shameful abuse of an apostrophe, but I don’t want you sitting there thinking, “What’s a tos?”
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January 7th, 2010 at 4:10 pm
And you know you’ll have your Wiffers to cheer you on, send you encouragement, and plot wicked things to do in case you don’t blog. Yes, you have created monsters.
January 7th, 2010 at 4:12 pm
Oh. Wait. I hadn’t thought of that…
Damn. Too late now…
January 7th, 2010 at 4:28 pm
Good luck, babe. You are doing a brave and admirable thing. It’s hard to look yourself in the face and be honest. But you’re not content to leave it there. Oh,no, you are going to share the journey with all of us. Thanks for letting us in. We’re all pulling for you.
January 7th, 2010 at 4:28 pm
So, are you going to share the news with the gang? Or shall I?
What? That wasn’t a threat. No really, just asking questions here in frozen WNY.
January 7th, 2010 at 4:31 pm
You can tell them, if you want. I’ll mention it in the podcast tomorrow night as well. I’m not really publicizing it. I only need one reader for the public side of this agreement to be met, but anyone who comes is welcome, and anyone who wants to link certainly may.
January 7th, 2010 at 4:32 pm
Thanks, Sara. I appreciate it. Should be… entertaining at the very least. Or hopefully entertaining. To be honest, I fear more for you people reading than for myself. I am truly not that interesting.
January 7th, 2010 at 4:54 pm
OMG, Lucy.
I just bought 3 of your Lani-books because I loved the excerpt from your new book (and btw, loved Maybe Baby, halfway through Finn’s book and loving that, too.) Also because you were featured on NanoWriMo and you’re Jenny’s roomie. That said, this post has brought tears to my eyes. I smiled because it’s a running joke that every year we celebrate “the anniversary of my 25th birthday” and then read what you said about keeping the bad habits of your youth, waking up to being blind for so long, doing a public tap-dance, searching for a real before and after and I just stopped breathing. I couldn’t have said it so well, but I’m good for just everything that you just said. My husband and I are currently in a stand-of because “He lacked the skills to take the helm, and I lacked the ability to keep rowing for both of us.” My God. I feel lost and angry and scared and you’ve reminded me that being real is better than pretending. For what it’s worth, you’ve inspired me to put on my big-girl panties and wade into this mess I’ve made. Thank you.
January 7th, 2010 at 4:58 pm
Welcome, Shangrila, and oh baby, do I ever feel your pain. In no way do I want to be the instrument of anyone else’s marital crackup, nor, do I suspect, did Elizabeth Gilbert want to be an instrument of mine (have you read Eat, Pray, Love? Do, darling, do) but my marriage wasn’t about Gilbert and your marriage isn’t about me, I know that. It’s just that we’ve all experienced the same thing, and there’s power in knowing it’s not just you. Power and comfort.
I’m glad you’re enjoying the books, I’m sorry things are tough, and I wish you the absolute best in your journey. It’s a tough road to walk, the honest one, but in the end, I think it leads us to a better place.
January 7th, 2010 at 5:10 pm
I’m not really sure what to say here except that I wanted to let you know I’ll be reading and cheering you on. As much as I love your fiction, I think getting to read your own raw true messy story will be even more of a privilege. Growth hurts, but it generally feels pretty good when you come out the other side. Hang in there.
January 7th, 2010 at 5:12 pm
Thanks, Gilly! And welcome!
January 7th, 2010 at 5:20 pm
I wish you a great deal of luck with this. I’ll admit, I haven’t read any of your books yet, but that’s just because I’ve only recently discovered you and yours are sitting toward the bottom of the pile. I think I may have to bump them up. But I digress.
I, for one, have the opposite problem. I am brutally honest with myself…I just never do anything about it. I, too, set out to change that this year. I, too, started a blog for the public accountability of the thing. Weird.
Really, though, good luck to you with this. It takes a lot of gumption and the work is hard, but the payoff is enormous.
Oh, and thanks for recognizing the apostrophe thing. It would’ve bothered me. (Yes, that’s one of the things I’m working to correct.)
January 7th, 2010 at 5:45 pm
OMG. Or more like Holy Shit. I wish I’d thought of all those things before I was 40. I’m on my countdown to 50 and still making nice and putting the rest of the world before me.
Let me just say that you are not alone. You don’t know me, (don’t worry your not alone in that either), I’m a huge Jenny fan, and fairly sure I’m on my way to being a huge Lani/Lucy fan.
You are a wiser soul than I, and so much more advanced. Your words brought me to tears simply because I saw so much of myself in them. Only I’m too stubborn to stop tossing eggs in the air. Trouble is I’m also too tired to keep them up there, so I’ve got a trail of raw and scrambled eggs in my wake and I’m refusing to turn around to look at them. I am, in fact, hoping the dogs will clean up the mess before anyone notices.
Lucy/Lani you are brave soul. I wish you much success on your journey and healing too. Meanwhile I’m trying not to exude jealousy over your new editor who I would die to work with. Jealousy is not pretty, and while I don’t really count myself as pretty anymore I’m still shooting for smiling, warm and accessible – and green ooze pouring out my eyes kind of ruins the effect.
Good luck – in all your endeavors. I’ll be rooting for you.
January 7th, 2010 at 5:52 pm
I turn 40 next month and it’s funny how it’s snuck up at me. I wish I’d thought to do something like this to prepare for the journey.
One thing to remember as you try to think about what to write each day and blog about what you learn – is that while we may want to read on and on and on- You made need brevity. Take it when you need it. It’s your blog and your journey. You don’t need to make us happy. You told us so yourself;)
January 7th, 2010 at 5:53 pm
Thanks for sharing your journey. I’m reaching a big milestone birthday next month and have been mulling over my own life changes and where I want things to go from here.
January 7th, 2010 at 6:12 pm
You are doing a brave thing here, and you’ll definitely have lots of support. But I wanted to touch on your comment of, “I am truly not that interesting.” Keep in mind, many of us are writers. Any glimpse into another human’s life is interesting.
January 7th, 2010 at 6:16 pm
I too recently picked up a couple of your Lani books thanks to following Jenny’s blog and realizing if I can’t afford your classes right now, I can probably learn from your books until I can. Unfortunately, I haven’t gotten to start them yet, but this weekend looks good.
This blog urged me to do the math and I am 723 days from the big 4-0. I’ve never freaked about age, but I don’t like the sound of this one. No idea why.
As to the other, I started my 30s by leaving my husband and have felt most everything you typed here. Except mine did do the cheating thing, but whatever. My point is, 8 years later I can’t even explain how much happier I am. My daughter and I have a good life and I’m thankful every day.
So if you need to know that there is a light out there and you will reach it and it will feel damn good, I’m telling you it’s true. Thanks for letting us into your world and I look forward to following your journey.
January 7th, 2010 at 6:18 pm
I’m wiping the tears from my eyes because I feel you just described me to a T. I left my first husband when I was 29, not because he was terrible, but because he was terrible for me, and of the two of us, I was the only one who realized it. I lived for five years denying I was unhappy and the last two of our marriage completely miserable because I didn’t know how to tell him we’d made a mistake and I didn’t love him. I will always be grateful to my mom who saved me when she said “come home.” Until then no one knew what I was going through because, like you, I always put on a happy face. It’s hard to let people in, to let them see the real us, but relationships are about exposing our soft underbellies, sharing our flaws and rejoicing in those friends we have that love and accept us just as we are. Because if they don’t – they aren’t really friends.
Now I’m (almost) 44, and remarried to a wonderful man with whom I’ve had two beautiful children. I’m still very careful about who I let in to my weird little world, there is the me that most people know, and then there is the real me that only a few know, but those that do are precious to me and I thank God for them everyday.
I found your site through Jenny’s blog and I’m anxious to read your upcoming release. I’ve read Dogs and Goddesses and A Little Ray of Sunshine and will soon be ordering some of your other titles.
Good luck with your journey. I’m sure it will be hard and parts uncomfortable, but I for one will be following you, wishing you only joy and happiness and discovery most of all.
P.S. 40 is wonderful – I think it is the moment in time when women come in to their own.
January 7th, 2010 at 6:41 pm
Lucy, you write beautifully and I can’t wait to read your blogs. I hope it helps you get to where you want to be, and that you enjoy the journey. Good luck and bon voyage.
January 7th, 2010 at 6:43 pm
What brave things to do: to actively “do” something about your life and to try and be open about it, too. I am sure it was and is agonizing. Change is good but no one said it was easy. And trust me, the 40s can be really fun. What great things you have to look forward to.
January 7th, 2010 at 7:22 pm
Not sure if I should call you Lucy or Lani, but I have to tell that this is a wonderful blog post and a wonderful idea. I’ll be reading and cheering you along.
Your books are on my keeper shelf. Little Ray of Sunshine made me cry twice, The Fortune Quilt helped me get through a miserable business trip and Wish You Were Here was a much needed distraction from a hellacious week. You do good work and I consider myself lucky to be one of your readers and writing students.
January 7th, 2010 at 7:38 pm
D. – thanks so much. And yes, ill-placed apostrophes drive me insane, too. I just couldn’t think of a better way to handle that particular event. Does anyone know how I should have handled it? I should ask Jenny. She knows everything.
January 7th, 2010 at 7:40 pm
Lucy, best of luck with all your changes. I know how hard it is to get past being “happy enough” to being truly happy. Well, I know about the settling for happy enough part anyway. I’ve been through a bunch of upheaval in the last couple of years and keep trying to tell myself I really am “happy enough” and it’s all going to be okay. Fortunately, my hubby is the one thing I haven’t had to re-evaluate. But I do understand about how difficult it is to accept that you are angry about circumstances and then try to move past them to find peace. I think that’s especially hard for women, since we’re supposed to be the ones holding everyone and everything together. I’ve had a lot of anger-inducing circumstances myself these last two years, from career and health and loss of loved ones – so I know some kind of big change is coming in me too – I just can’t figure out what yet. Maybe following your year and change will help give me a clue!
January 7th, 2010 at 7:42 pm
Kate, thanks so much. I’m sorry you’re going through a lot of the same stuff, but honestly, I think a lot of women do. As for the jealousy – don’t worry about it. Feel it and release it. Feeling it doesn’t make you unpretty; it’s just human. And I certainly won’t fault you for wishing to work with Jen E. It’s a hell of an honor.
January 7th, 2010 at 7:44 pm
LOL, Stephanie. Some days probably will have more brevity than others. But really, this is about me. I want to make a commitment and keep it, and I want to do a little something every day, and I want to exhibit the courage it takes to share this kind of stuff. But thanks for the permission.
January 7th, 2010 at 7:45 pm
The 40s are awesome. You’ll see.
January 7th, 2010 at 7:46 pm
Happy early Birthday, Jill! It’s exciting, isn’t it? The new year, the new milestone, the rest of the journey ahead. My aunt is almost seventy, and she wrote to me the other day about her life. She’s living in an RV and traveling the country on her own (she was widowed a few years back.) I just adore what she’s doing, and how she’s doing it, and the fact that she’s so happy with her life. So really, it doesn’t matter how far along you are; what matters is how you choose to keep going.
January 7th, 2010 at 7:46 pm
Thanks, Jenifer. LOL on the interesting thing. I guess, I’m not all that interesting to me. But you’re right – I’m fascinated by other people’s lives and inner worlds, and so while I might not be that interesting to me, I will grant that it might be interesting for you.
Thanks, babe.
January 7th, 2010 at 7:49 pm
Hey, Terri! If you’re interested in learning more about the writing, visit Storywonk – I’ve got a podcast up there (free, and you can subscribe via iTunes) where I’ll be talking about a lot of writer-stuff. And there’s always Will Write for Wine.
I’m glad things worked out well for you. I’m listening to Elizabeth Gilbert’s Committed right now, and it touches on so many things about marriage, the nature of the beast. I find it really interesting, can’t recommend it enough.
January 7th, 2010 at 7:52 pm
Steff – wow, this really is a common experience, isn’t it? I’m sorry for all you’ve gone through, and yay for your mom! That’s pretty much what Jenny said to me, except she said, “Come to Ohiiiiioooooooo,” and I did. The people who give us a soft place to fall are the most incredible blessings in life. Congratulations on your new marriage, and thanks for checking in here. It’s good to know I’m not alone.
January 7th, 2010 at 7:53 pm
Thanks Lily! Glad to have you here!
January 7th, 2010 at 7:54 pm
Hey, Kelly! You can call me whatever you want. I answer to almost anything!
I’m so glad you enjoyed the books! And it’s wonderful to have you in class, and have you here. Thanks so much.
January 7th, 2010 at 8:03 pm
Hey, Lani/Lucy. I love your books, adore your voice, and love the wisdom you impart with your online teaching.
Wishing you every possible success with the new avenue you’re taking in your career, and of course with navigating the ups and downs of single parenthood. It can be a lonely journey at times, but you’re lucky to have the support and friendship from Jenny.
I can now look back on those years pre and post divorce, and measure my achievements. It’s all good, but during the mess I often felt like I was trapped in molasses.
Last night I went to see that new movie, It’s Complicated, (Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin) it was a lot of fun, some good humorous moments and some wonderful insights into life and relationships. You and Jenny should go check it out.
January 7th, 2010 at 8:07 pm
You are a combo of all the good parts of Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Lion.
January 7th, 2010 at 8:08 pm
Lynn, thanks so much! Glad you’re here. And you know, maybe following my year will help some of you. As I’ve mentioned, reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love was huge for me, mostly because I knew someone else was feeling what I was feeling. There’s something about not being alone in it that is so therapeutic.
As far as the anger goes, all I can tell you is that it helps to identify the source. I was in so much denial that I never could. Now, I’m starting to do it, and it’s not pretty, but it’s helping a great deal. Best of luck with your journey, too!
January 7th, 2010 at 8:09 pm
Lori – I believe it!
January 7th, 2010 at 8:10 pm
Robena, thanks so much. I’ve heard wonderful things about It’s Complicated – plus, it’s got Meryl (LOVE HER) and John Krasinski (adore him). Jenny and I want to see that, and I have to see Sherlock Holmes with Robert Downey, Jr., who I also adore. Lots of good stuff out there!
January 7th, 2010 at 8:12 pm
Jill, you are my ambassador of kwon, baby. Love you.
January 7th, 2010 at 8:12 pm
Lucy/Lani:
Good luck with the next 516 days. On the 516th, I will give you the words of wisdom that were given to me on my 40th, and which saw me through a very good decade.
January 7th, 2010 at 8:21 pm
Carol – can’t wait! And I’m gonna hold you to that, baby!
January 7th, 2010 at 8:31 pm
This may sound strange, but I’ve been waiting to turn 55 for the longest time. At that point you’ve lived and people pretty much don’t tell you “you can’t say that.” By then you pretty much earned the right. That’s not mentioning the senior citizen discounts. Of course, life happened and kept right on kicking my butt with no end in sight. At some point I had to accept a steady diet of eating my tongue was not good for me. If I lost friends from being the real me then so be it. I’d rather have ones who knew and loved Melissa not the watered down version. ‘Cause frankly I’m not up for waiting 31 years.
So go you. Life is so much better when allow yourself to be you. Also what Jenifer said about us being writers.
January 7th, 2010 at 8:35 pm
I’ve followed you a bit on your storywonk site and as I wish for everyone I follow to blog more, I’m very excited about this idea.
Also? Your courage to face yourself is impressive. I hope to have half as much this year.
January 7th, 2010 at 8:44 pm
LOL, Mel, I’m glad you’re not biting your tongue anymore. If we wait for other people to give us permission to be ourselves, it’ll never happen. Good for you.
January 7th, 2010 at 8:46 pm
Thanks JenK! I’ve had a problem blogging in the last few years precisely because I wasn’t willing to talk about all this stuff. For me, it’s hard to only reveal part of myself. Plus, when you’re fixing to leave your husband, blogging isn’t the first thing on your mind. But now that I’ve hit a stable point, and I’m ready to move forward, I’m looking forward to doing the blog. And if I can keep a commitment for 516 days, that’ll be a damned miracle.
January 7th, 2010 at 8:58 pm
Lucy – from Jenny’s website I found the excerpt for Little Night Magic which I look forward to. That led me to reading your books which I have enjoyed so far. I’m always so happy to find a new author to follow.
To all the divorce sufferers – I’ve been married and divorced 3 times, yes, 3. Every time I started out thinking forever. Now I think that is unrealistic. If one or both people are growing and changing, what is the likelihood that they are growing and changing in the same direction? Not very likely. And, in fact, often they grow in ways that make their lives together not work. That has been my experience, anyway.
January 7th, 2010 at 8:58 pm
My 40s started out bad with my mother’s terminal illness and death. If I was writing a fiction book about my life that would be the inciting incident. Her death set me on a journey that eventually lead to truly wonderful things. Don’t fear the 40s. I believe life often gets better as we age. In my 40s I left behind my state of origin and moved to the Keys. I got a job with an organization that I love and have work that fulfills me. I wrote and sold a couple of books and built a fine life.
My 50s have been pretty good so far and I just turned 52.
Moving forward is a great decision. Forward = progress.
January 7th, 2010 at 9:00 pm
At 35 I hit the big, ol’ re-set button in my life. Left my husband, my job, and my hometown in one fell swoop. That was the first step in living honestly.
Cut to 10 years later, and I live a life that’s most often filled with laughter. To get there I had to go through the scary step of being honest about myself to me. Scary.
Like you, I started a blog about what was going on. In it I resolved to be honest about me, while preserving the privacy of others as well as I could. It’s a (slightly) less scary way to try out the totally honest approach.
It’s a journey worth taking. I’m still refining the honesty. Like anything, it’s learn and forget, learn and forget. There are days where I stumble back into my GRRRRRRRRR-must-do-must-be-perfect-everyone-must-like-me groove. Best answer I’ve found for that? Be gentle to yourself. Don’t wallow when it doesn’t work. Know that the next time X-event happens is another chance to try a new approach.
You can do it, darlin’. I know you can. Rah!
January 7th, 2010 at 9:10 pm
Thanks for the info on the free links and I subscribed to the WWFW forum earlier today. I’ll lurk for a while, since I don’t drink wine.
And I read Eat, Pray, Love last year. IMO, outside of BET ME, it’s the best book ever. Should be required reading for every woman over 30.
January 7th, 2010 at 9:21 pm
Judy – wow, 3 times. What is it they say? Second marriage is the triumph of optimism over experience? LOL, you are definitely optimistic! But yes, it seems to me that people do outgrow each other, and it can be tough to hang in there. But some people do it, and my hat’s off to them.
Mary Stella – I’m so sorry about your mother, but glad it turned into a positive journey for you. The 50s are good – by then, my children will have moved out, and it’ll be a whole new experience. I’m excited about those, too.
Glynis – it’s always a process, isn’t it? And you’re right about learn-and-forget – wow, are you ever right. But I think you remember quicker, each time, and eventually, it’s learned. Takes a while, though, doesn’t it?
January 7th, 2010 at 9:29 pm
Another Wiffer here lending you her support. I think most of us started that countdown to the first Lucy March book ages ago. You write beautifully and I look forward to your insights on life as seen through your eyes – funny or not.
January 7th, 2010 at 9:30 pm
Thanks, Karen. As always, it’s lovely to see you!
January 7th, 2010 at 4:38 pm
Lucy, on a totally superficial note – definitely make time to see Sherlock Holmes. I know purists are hating on it because Robert Downey Jr. is a totally kick-ass kind of Sherlock, but it’s still a lot of fun. And it’s great to see him looking fabulous and back on top of his game.
January 7th, 2010 at 4:56 pm
Hey, that’s my life you’re describing there. Except, my husband contributed more actively to our breakup. But you said it perfectly – I couldn’t keep rowing for the both of us. I think what’s really still got me uncertain about what to do about our relationship is the feeling that not many people really *know* me, and he does. Who will ever really know me like that again? Which sounds pathetic, I know, but there it is.
January 7th, 2010 at 4:57 pm
I just wanted to say how much I loved this entry and am looking forward to reading the blog over the next 516 days.
January 7th, 2010 at 5:17 pm
Well, I for one will be reading every 516 posts you write.
Now, this might be the wine talking (a merlot/sangiovese blend if you’re interested) but what I really love about you is your enthusiasm for everything. It’s infectious. It was my catalyst for writing again (thank you a thousand times for your Discovery course… very awesome (drink)). It’s the reason I’m going through the back catalogue of Will Write for Wine episodes (and for the fantastic CJ Barry *of course*).
Your enthusiasm has brought me happiness and laughter. If there’s really such thing as karma then it’s coming back to you threefold. You have every ounce of luck that’s in my being to give you
January 7th, 2010 at 5:30 pm
I wanted to comment when I saw this earlier today, but couldn’t from work. Now everyone has said what I might have wanted to say, but they’ve said it better.
I’m always “in process” (progress?) my own self and have found blogging helpful. Not quite brave enough to do it so publicly — and had some serious privacy issues to consider — but I have friends from my LiveJournal who have supported me and listened (and kicked my butt) for several years now. One day I’d like to get them all in the same room with some wine!
Best of luck and lots of wishes for all good things. I’ll be cheering you on.
January 7th, 2010 at 5:52 pm
How courageous of you!
I linked here from arghink and I’ll be back to read about your journey.
I’m a newlywed, so I’m on a slippery ice floe to offer advice. I will call it a suggestion, a polite one.
Paint your toenails. Read something fun and funny (swear off the Eat, Pray, Love spiritual side of divorce stuff), rent an old movie and swoon over the clothes.
You’re obviously strong, talented, honest. Take good care of yourself. You deserve it.
January 7th, 2010 at 6:48 pm
I have long admired your guts, Lani, and now more than ever. It’s not easy to admit that you don’t know things, when we spend a lot of time and energy pretending that we do. Just remember, there are lots of us who love you for sharing your flawed self!
January 7th, 2010 at 7:28 pm
I have been where you are, and striving for peace is the best thing to do.
Okay, how about striving for Peace, with little moments of Joy sprinkled in?
Here’s the two best pieces of advice I received when I was going through my divorce:
1. This is a death, just like any other death. There are going to be days you’re great, days you’re okay, and days that are Bad. Just remember that the bad days don’t last any longer than the good ones. (It just seems like it.)
2. Make sure to dump your “stuff” on lots of friends. They all want to help, and that way no one starts looking for a big palm to hide behind when they see you coming!
Looking forward to the blog!
Love ya Babe~!
January 7th, 2010 at 9:50 pm
Don’t worry you’re cookie dough. You’re just not done yet.
January 7th, 2010 at 10:15 pm
If you’ll blog, I’ll read, and look forward to it. Take care of yourself.
January 7th, 2010 at 10:49 pm
It takes a lot of guts to put yourself out in the blogosphere and share things with anyone who happens across your blog. I admire the hell out of you for doing it. The kind of introspection and honesty this journey will take for you is probably something all of us should try at some point in life, but not all of us are brave enough to take this step.
The most important thing is that it helps YOU get where you’re going. If it is successful, great- I’ll look forward to reading you every day.
Good luck!
January 8th, 2010 at 12:23 pm
Oh, wow. I’ve tried to respond to everyone individually on this thread, and now I’ve lost track of everyone. So let me just say – thank you all for stopping by, and for continuing to read. Your support is so tremendous, and it makes me feel good about this little project. Also, it’ll keep me honest and help me stick to it. I hope. Have I mentioned that I’m not great with commitment?
January 8th, 2010 at 12:50 pm
Well hi there, woman! I’d lost track of you until Linda linked to you. Look how our lives have changed! You’re divorcing, now I’m the married woman with a new baby. You’re a successful author, I…have a new baby.
I’ve always wanted to thank you, because it was because of your incouragement that I got into blogging. Thanks.
I’ll be following along from now on, and may 40 be fabulous for all of us!
(ps My birthday’s in March. Does that make me the oldest person in Club 32?)
January 8th, 2010 at 1:50 pm
You sound very brave and optimistic, which is a good combo. I can’t wait to read the Lucy March book.
January 8th, 2010 at 7:50 pm
the need to not be a burden while taking on as many burdens as I can carry; the certainty that I understood how the world worked
Wow. I was going to tell you I was 43 and that hit me between the eyes, but I thought about it and realized I’m 44.
Hang in there girl. I’ll hang in there with you, reading every day and maybe screwing up the courage to talk about taking my own bull by the horns.
And I second what Lynn Reynolds said. See Sherlock Holmes!
January 9th, 2010 at 6:00 am
I loved The Fortune Quilt, and I think you’ve been working through the happiness issues for a very long time — it was enlightening to me, anyway. I’m really looking forward to your new book. It sounds like a lot of fun, but also promises to have a certain amount of “bottom” to it, too, which makes a good book something to cherish.
BTW, there is a very little, but very interesting book called “Happiness: The Science Behind Your Smile” by Daniel Nettle. (-: It sounds a little hippy-dippy, but I think the science is sound, and it’s a really interesting way to look at the whole “what is happiness” question.
January 9th, 2010 at 10:57 am
[...] on The Fat Girl’s Guide to Living. I should do that, I thought. And then, yesterday, I read this blog, which shocked me to my core. Lucy March has vowed to blog every day up to her 40th birthday. She [...]
January 9th, 2010 at 3:52 pm
Kira! Hello, and lovely to see you again! I’m glad I encouraged you blogging, and congratulations on your new life (and baby!) I don’t know if you’re the oldest from Club 32, but hell – we’re almost Club 40 now. There’s a point where you have to stop counting…
Margaret – lovely to see you, dear, and thank you!
JulieB – you know, you only need courage before you take the dive. Once you’re in, it’s done, and it’s not bad! Also, I will see Sherlock Holmes – maybe this week. I love me some RDJ!
Micki – Yes, anyone reading my books knows I’ve been dealing with these issues for quite some time! I was the only one slow on the pickup.
And thanks for the book recommendation, I’ll check it out!
January 10th, 2010 at 7:10 pm
Lucy – A post from Jenny Crusie’s blog brought me here. I find the concept of your blog challenge very intriguing. I am turning 40 this year and I plan to make this year about so much more than that. Age has never bothered me but there is something about that number that inspires a bit of introspection. I look forward to reading a few of your books and following your journey!
January 10th, 2010 at 10:40 pm
Could you make the asterisks larger? Please. When I read daily, larger will help. Usually the funniest parts. Thank you.
January 15th, 2010 at 1:18 pm
Something I’ve been thinking since I started to read this blog, but I haven’t wanted to put you on the spot…so I waited until fewer people will be reading this post to suggest it. At the risk of sounding like my mother, I will make a possibly personal, definitely crazy request. After this year of growth and change and finding yourself, will you consider having a new headshot taken for your Lucy March book jackets? While the one you currently use is very nice, I’ve always thought the pose and attitude looks a little like you’re hiding yourself. And this blog is all about rejecting the idea of hiding, and putting yourself forward. I’d love to see you emerge from this and have a headshot taken where the pose and attitude is a little more “Everyone wants to be me or do me” – like the pictures of your Aunt that you posted! What I can see of you is so pretty, but your hair is hiding your face, and I think you need to think about coming out from there and showing yourself off. Now I’ll stop being a nosy, pushy mommy about the picture thing, and let you get back to the more important things you’re working on.
January 16th, 2010 at 2:43 pm
Howdy, Lucy — I love that you’re doing this. I greet 40 in two months; red wine and dark chocolate will help me ring in a decade I think is one of the best we gals have ahead of us. Glad you’re anticipating good things, too!