My husband and I have been together for over 20 years. We met in high school and watched each other graduate high school, college, and graduate school, find (and change) careers, and become parents.
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One fascinating aspect of my work as a couples/ family therapist is that it gives me an intimate view into the current cultural dynamics of couples.
For the last twenty or so years, over half the couples I see contain the "nice guy" with his frustrated wife.
Yom Kippur, the Jewish holiday of repentance, had barely been over for 14 hours and I was already fighting with my husband. Over our poached kale and egg salads with a side of chickpeas I notice my firecracker friend is uncharacteristically glum.
Has my Teflon-coated mind not retained a single shred of serenity? When Peter died, the only thing that kept me sane was writing about grief. I recognized that by spewing out my emotions with honesty, I was helping others which meant it was work that made me satisfied.
I was 55-years-old, and yet my Christian upbringing still had a stranglehold on my sexuality.
Recent conversations with Millennials and 30-somethings have made me feel even better about my age and lucky to have spent my Millennial dating years pre-internet, well before the current awfulness of online 'hooking-up'.
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