A New Chapter In Life (And This Time I Know How to Write It)

Anyone who has read So Much For My Happy Ending (and is aware of the semi-autobiographical nature of the book) knows that my last marriage was fairly disastrous. But even if my ex had been...well, sane, there would have been problems with that union and a lot of those problems were my fault. I gave up a huge part of myself when I became a wife. My career suddenly felt less important than his career. I transferred out of my dream college so I could attend a school in a city that he felt comfortable in. Yes, he wanted me to do those things but no one held a gun to my head.

I felt secondary and worse yet I accepted that role for myself. My husband cherished me and often surprised me with lavish romantic gestures. But I was like a doll or God help me, a trophy wife. I was so very young (eight years his junior...and in my junior year of college) and in my own way I was rebelling. I didn't want to be like my mother. As much as I love my mom I have always known that when it comes to her relationships she has control issues (although that’s less true these days) and those issues often prevented her from fully enjoying the tenderness often shared in male-female relationships. No one is EVER allowed to take care of her. Of course she doesn't want to be a caretaker either. She just wants her independence and she has no interest in making herself vulnerable to anyone.

I didn't want to be like that. I didn't want to be afraid of the word "wife." I didn't want to be the matriarch in the house. I wanted more romance. More of the fairytale. My then-husband was all for that so I gave up New York, my dreams of making it into the Bloomingdale's executive training program and even some of my friendships in exchange for strawberry bubble baths, champagne toasts on the beach and impromptu stays in adorable B&Bs.

I know that doesn't make it sound like I was suffering and in the first few years of my marriage I wasn't but I was losing my sense of self. And when my ex would suggest that I pursue a degree in astronomy (after all, I did so well in that class) or as a daycare provider or even a bookkeeper my heart would sink. Those are not careers that I could ever be happy in but my husband didn't know that because he didn't fully know me and maybe that's because the real me was getting lost.

Now I'm in a new relationship and it's pretty serious. I may move to be closer to him since, of the two of us, he's the only one who has to go to an office in a particular location and my son is homeschooled. Furthermore if I moved it would probably be to Marin. I've ALWAYS wanted to live in Marin, that lovely little community just over the Golden Gate Bridge. Minutes from San Francisco but just removed enough to be peaceful and safe.

And yet I can't help but think about the last time I moved for a guy. Will I lose myself again? Will I resent him for personal sacrifices he never asked me to make?

To be honest the whole thing freaks me out. I feel like Carrie Bradshaw when she moved to Paris for Mikhail Baryshnikov and look how that turned out!

I'm kidding of course (sort of). My boyfriend is nothing like Baryshnikov and oddly enough I mean that in a good way. He also doesn't really ask me to sacrifice a lot. One of the reasons he took a job in Marin is because he knows I like the area. Even before we were talking about moving in together he picked an apartment near an adorable shopping district and a Starbucks because he thought I'd like visiting him there.

So my fears are really just that, my fears. They have nothing to do with reality. Still, they toy with me. They dance around the corners of my mind until I either reach for the popcorn or the martini glass as I attempt to fill myself with something other than these irritating worries.

But, unlike my protagonist, I'm not a borderline-alchy so after the first drink I'm pretty much done and I spend too much money on my gym membership to screw it up by ODing on Orville Redenbacherr. So I try other means of calming myself like browsing Tiffany & Cos website (yes, I know how that sounds but for me it's meditative so don't judge). In the end I guess I just have to trust that I'm smarter and savvier than I was in college...at least when it comes to affaire de coeurs. I know myself too well to get lost these days. I have a built in emotional GPS. When I start getting a little crazy or confused I can quickly navigate my way back to sanity. I can compromise without sacrificing what's important.

It's just another adventure, really. And this time, I think I'm ready for it.

Kyra Davis
Bestselling Author of:
The Sophie Katz Murder Mystery Seris,
and
SO MUCH FOR MY HAPPY ENDING
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