Learning the Hard Way

Brown Shirt “You know I love you,” he said, hand poised in mid-air. “I love lots of people,” he added, his eyes bright. “We are friends,” he said, “and I love you.” He loved me like a brown shirt. He loved me as if there were 15 others in his closet, just waiting to be chosen for the day. He loved me like an egg white omelet, a Monday morning, a hazy day. “Is this also how I love myself?” I asked. Do I love myself like a Tuesday afternoon, a turkey sandwich on store-bought bread, black work pants, a re-run on a weeknight? His brown-shirt kind of love seemed to only reflect my own.  - Jenny James

One evening after a long day, I visited one of my favorite dating blogs and began to notice a trend. Many women in this group were recently going through divorces or break-ups after long relationships. They felt they not only lost financial assets, but their social network as well. “Not only did he get the house, cars, and 401Ks,” one woman wrote, “but he took all of our friends with him,” she posted. I have always had my own small circle of friends that were separate from my marriage or relationships, but as I began to read stories of women ending long relationships, they often found themselves without a partner, but also without a large network of friendships to support them. What few friends they did have, quickly became overwhelmed by the vast amount of support the woman needed as she navigated her way through the end of her marriage or relationship. Simply put, it was too much for just a few friends to absorb the vast amount of support, advice, and comfort that she requir