Now when I feel envious or jealous, I send thoughts of gratitude to the ex for teaching him to put the toilet seat down—and for letting him go. I know that Arne loves Jacque. That he knows how to spell it correctly. That he knows my middle name and how much I weigh. read more »

For a moment I imagined how good it would feel to make him listen to explicit stories about every man I’d ever dated. But when he turned to me with tears on his face, I knew there was nothing I could do to make him feel worse than he already felt. read more »

I had attended a women’s college and was trained to support and love my female sisters, but I found that the mere fact of her existence filled me with hostility. My feelings had nothing to do with her personality or any of our interactions. I was simply upset because she was wife number one, and if Arne and I decided to get married, I would be wife number two. read more »

When I first started dating Arne, a friend of mine took me aside about a month into my new relationship and gave me what I thought at the time was strange advice. “Don’t freak out when he calls you his ex-wife’s name,” she said. read more »