May 7
Reflections During A Pandemic
It’s been three months since my last blog post – the longest gap in years. Like all of us, I’ve been trying to process how our lives and the world have changed during this unimaginable time.
In March, I got engaged to the love of my life Steve on another memorable sailing of the 80s Cruise. Having gone through a lot to find each other mid-life, we were excited to celebrate with family and friends, to enjoy the fanfare that such a happy, long-awaited milestone receives from those you love most. As soon as we got home, though, it was clear this wouldn’t be possible anytime soon.
In the week we were away, the coronavirus COVID-19 had escalated dramatically, claiming my beloved New York as its epicenter. Two days before the state’s shelter-in-place order took effect, I left for Florida to be with Steve. The eerie quiet at JFK was a haunting reminder of when I flew right after 9/11. Walking toward my gate, I passed runway after runway of idle planes. My flight had 100 empty seats. As the plane took off and I caught a fleeting glimpse of NYC’s beautiful skyline, questions weighed on me. When would I see family and friends again? What would a post-pandemic New York look like when I returned?
All these weeks later, the uncertainty still overwhelms me at times. My heart breaks for those lost to COVID-19, for their loved ones and my home state. While New York has only 6% of the U.S. population, it accounts for 27% of all domestic coronavirus cases – and more than any other state or country. Expanded testing suggests nearly 25% of New Yorkers have contracted COVID-19. Statistics, of course, only tell part of the story. The devastating scale of this pandemic hits home when death news becomes a daily thing on your Facebook feed. A friend’s grandfather. A former colleague’s dad. A friend’s beloved co-worker, just 29 years old.
It’s sadly ironic. What coronavirus has stolen from its victims is also what it has given the rest of us more than we know what to do with – time. If there has ever been a moment in history to appreciate this precious commodity, it’s now. I felt such appreciation on a deep, visceral level a few years ago, after coming out of my suicidal depression. And I vowed to never take for granted the incredible gift that, whatever storms life may bring, I’m still here.
Quarantine life is a roller coaster for sure. But even with the ups and down, or maybe because of them, it has also opened my eyes to being fully present in the moment and to what the pandemic cannot take away. The comfort and joy of being with my future husband and our beloved pup. The pleasures of comfort food (limited edition Tiramisu Oreos, yes please!). The escapist fun of 80’s movies that still make me smile (Breakin’ 2, Goonies and The Golden Child). The connectivity and conveniences of modern technology.
I often think about those who lived through the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918. They had to face it without being able to text, email or video call loved ones or schedule virtual doctor visits. And without a slew of on-demand TV, movie and gaming options to entertain them at home. Steve and I have been binge watching Downton Abbey and Schitt’s Creek. It’s such a pleasure catching up with the Crawleys again and the Roses’ escapades never fail to provide much-needed comic relief. If you’re looking for additional recommendations and quarantine tips, check out The New York Times’ At Home and USA Today’s Staying Apart, Together e-newsletters.
USA Today also has a great roundup, 100 Things to Do Inside During A Pandemic. I’ve done #10 (face masks), #18 (match lids to Tupperware containers) and #33 (make a classic cocktail – hello again, French Martini). It’s #48 — make a list of things for which you are grateful – that has been most soul soothing.
Every night, I write in the One-minute Gratitude Journal by Brenda Nathan. No matter what bad news or quarantine frustrations comes, I’m always able to fill my daily entry. Among the varied items eliciting gratitude: going out in public without a bra, spotting a butterfly while walking Benji and finding my favorite Krustaez waffle mix back on store shelves.
Most of all, I’m grateful that the transition from a long-distance relationship to being together 24/7 has been a seamless one, a beautiful confirmation of what a great team we are and how well we complement each other.
My Dad used to say that you know you love someone when you don’t have to be out on the town or doing anything, really, to be completely content. That’s exactly how I feel being at home with Steve and Benji. The simple joys of being together mean everything. It’s never mattered more to know, pandemic or not, I’ve got my dream guy and my dream dog by my side. Blessed doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel.
Stay safe and well, everyone.
Jan 27
Timing Is Everything
Ten years ago, I took a two-month break from the Big Apple to explore what dating was like in other cities. While catching up recently with one of my favorite people from the trip, I found myself thinking about timing and the role it plays in finding love.
Connected by a mutual acquaintance, Cleveland native Kim introduced me to her fabulous then-single friends Ryan, Phillip and Diana. I remember fondly how quickly we all bonded over the ups and downs of thirtysomething dating. Flash forward to today. Diana is engaged while Kim, Ryan and Phillip are all happily married.
I understand now why they say love comes along after you stop looking for it. I spent the better part of my thirties wearing myself out trying to meet someone. Online dating, speed dating, Tinder, Hinge, Coffee Meets Bagel, blind dates – you name it, I tried it. When I finally gave up the search, that’s when I found the energy to let go of the emotional baggage that had weighed me down for so long and rediscover what made me happy. To become the most fully realized, best version of myself. I was doing something I genuinely loved when the life-changing moment happened for me and my beloved Steve.
It was a breezy, moonlit night at sea and I was enjoying a poolside concert by my favorite 80s cover band. Steve and I shared a brief but effortless conversation, one that continued seamlessly when he messaged me a few days after the cruise. There was no hesitating or deliberating for either of us. Just the undeniable, exhilarating joy of a deepening and completely mutual connection that felt right in every way. Steve described it as a key fitting into a lock.
So much of our popular culture tells women that the door to marriage and/or motherhood slams shut once you’re over 35. My urgency to partner up intensified after this age, fueled largely by society’s message that a woman’s desirability ends (or at least, drops off precipitously) as our childbearing years wind down.
Just how outdated is this notion? A top wedding planner told me most of her newly-engaged, never married female clients are in their mid-forties. One of my colleagues recently shared that she was close to 50 when she met her future husband. I’m newly 46. The bottom line – it’s never too late to find love. Like so many things in life, it may not happen on your timetable. But God’s timing is always right.
As poet and writer János Arany once said, “In dreams and in love, there are no impossibilities.”
Nov 26
Counting My Blessings
When it comes to holiday traditions, one of my favorites has always been taking the time to reflect on what I have to be thankful for. My gratitude cup continues to overflow from a long list of blessings old and new.
I’m thankful for something that’s very easy to take for granted – my health. Good health, my late mom used to say, is most important; with it, all things are possible and without it, nothing else matters. Physically, mentally and emotionally, I’ve never felt better. Deeply grateful for the pep in my step and peace in my heart.
This year, I’m especially thankful for the power of entertainment to forge soul stirring bonds.
Thirty-two years ago, the witty, Emmy Award-winning soap opera Santa Barbara introduced me to my Colorado-based best friend Lisa. Earlier this month, Lisa and I joined dozens of fans from around the world for a Santa Barbara Reunion Cruise to the Bahamas with six cast members from our beloved show. The instant ease and camaraderie we all shared was magical, just like what I’ve experienced year after year on The 80’s Cruise. There’s an immediate, unspoken kinship that happens when meeting people whose hearts have been moved by the same TV, movies or music that have touched yours. I have never appreciated this beautiful dynamic more.
Speaking of connections, I’m thankful for technology that brings me closer to loved ones both near and far. While it must be said that you can have too much of a good thing (I’m looking at you, people who use speakerphone in public), it makes all the difference to have ways of narrowing geographical distance. From Facebook video calls with my Florida born and bred boyfriend Steve to Whats App chats with dear friends in Australia and France, I treasure being able to stay in touch beyond email and texting.
I’m thankful for my beloved pup Benji. In addition to being playful, affectionate and irresistibly adorable, this lovebug is also completely unflappable.
Twelve-hour travel day stuck at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport because of a blizzard? No problem. Jolting fender bender in a cab followed by an emergency room crowded with cops and screaming patients? Not even so much as a whimper from my little guy. To say that Benji is a huge emotional support and source of strength for me is an understatement. Adopting him is the best decision I’ve ever made. We rescued each other.
Last but most definitely not least, I’m thankful for Steve.
Over the last nine months, he has showed me what it means to be a true partner and made me happier than I ever thought was possible. Because of him, this is the first holiday season in over 20 years that I’m genuinely excited about. Looking forward to the many more beautiful firsts we have ahead of us.
Happy Thanksgiving all!
Sep 16
From Mourning To Healing
Twenty one years ago this week, my mother died of breast cancer – 8 days before she would have turned 58.
Mom’s passing blew my entire world apart. At 24, I couldn’t fathom living the rest of my life without her. As anyone who knew Mom would tell you, she was the embodiment of strength, resilience and positivity. During her first bout with breast cancer at 48, she quietly underwent radiation treatment, going into remission shortly thereafter. So when the disease returned seven years later, I had every reason to believe she would beat it once again. I naively clung to that belief, even while bearing witness to every stage of her decline.
Living at home at the time, I saw it all. The debilitating ravages of chemo. The increasing amount of time she spent sleeping. The slowing down of her once effervescent, bouncy walk. Still, denial is a pretty powerful thing, especially when it’s encouraged.
That summer, I had a long-planned two-week trip to London. Mom wouldn’t hear of me cancelling.
“Go and have a wonderful time, I’ll be better when you get back.”
She died six weeks later.
Dad insisted Mom had wanted me not to miss out on anything, to go on with my life. But that didn’t take away the overwhelming regret and guilt I felt about losing precious time with her. Once Dad was gone too – also from complications of cancer – I held on tightly to the things that reminded me of both of them. Her favorite books and antique knickknacks. Photographs and furniture from his office.
My home was pretty much a shrine. But it took a friend brave enough to say that for me to realize it.
“I don’t know how you can live like this. I can feel them everywhere and I didn’t even know them.”
Minutes after she said that, the night before Mother’s Day 2010, I finally began the long overdue process of letting go, parting with all but a handful of inherited items. Along with the kitchen and both bathrooms, my bedroom – modeled after Mom’s preferred style of décor (English Country frou frou) – underwent a makeover. I can still remember the sharp, crunching sound of the bedroom carpet being ripped up, the cathartic joy that flooded me. At long last, I was no longer living in the past.
That was the first turning point. The most significant came in 2016, when I had a nervous breakdown. I was hospitalized twice for depression and wrestled with thoughts of suicide. It took 18 excruciating months to find my way out of the darkness. The emotional core of my entire being shifted and with it, the weight of sadness about Mom and Dad. Having fought so hard for a second chance at living, I knew I could no longer allow grief to define me.
As anyone who’s been through loss knows, grief isn’t linear. There are stretches of time when I feel like I’m doing okay. And then there are moments when the searing pain of my parents’ absence hits me like a tidal wave. But the seismic difference is that pain doesn’t consume me anymore. It recedes more quickly than it used to. For years, I spent Mom’s anniversary curled up at home and crying. Today, while still carving out time to reflect and think about her, I go to work and get on with the business of living. I know that’s what Mom and Dad would both want for me.
It is said that the only reason to look back is to realize how far you’ve come. I used to feel like the best of my life was in the rearview mirror. Now, I feel like everything is ahead of me. Thank God for new beginnings.
Jul 29
Forever Friends And Santa Barbara Fans
Thirty-five years ago this week, NBC’s Santa Barbara made its debut. Over the course of its nine-year, 2,137 episodes run, the offbeat, brilliantly written soap opera garnered critical acclaim and loyal fans around the globe – including me.
Like so many viewers, I was drawn in to the show by one particular storyline – the incredible pairing of star-crossed lovers Cruz (A Martinez) and Eden (Marcy Walker-Smith). During the ‘80s heyday of soaps, as the format churned out plenty of so-called supercouples, Cruz and Eden set the bar for all, capturing hearts with their against-all-odds, romantic and passionate love.
This timelessly magical duo also sparked three of the most cherished, enduring friendships of my life.
I first became pen pals with Kansas native and fellow C&E devotee Lisa in 1986. We clicked even more when we met in person months later. And so cemented a bond that has defied geographical odds to become the sisterhood closest to my heart.
Lisa is everything a best friend should be and more. A trusted advisor, sympathetic ear and the person I think of first whenever something really great (or really terrible) happens. Over the years, we’ve shared everything — celebrity gossip, love life highs and lows, job-related tribulations and triumphs and the seminal loss in each of our lives, that of our respective parents. I am so thankful and blessed to have known Lisa’s extraordinary Mom and Dad. I know she feels the same way about mine.
It was 1991 when I first met Ohio resident and retired teacher Marilyn. We connected through the informal Cruz and Eden fan club I had started. She was in town for an event with A and Marcy that we both attended. Marilyn is an amazing woman — intelligent, kind and joyful. Along with being a wonderful friend, she’s a devoted mother and grandmother with a great sense of fun and true appreciation of life’s pleasures, big and small.
I’ve lost count of how many times during my visits, we’ve curled up on her couch and shared hours of effortless conversation over a cup of tea. The pleasure of her company has comforted me through many a trial and remains one of life’s sweetest joys.
The most unexpected friendship to come from my affection for SB began on a summer day in 1988 at NYC’s legendary Waldorf=Astoria Hotel. It was my first time attending the Daytime Emmys. I was 14 years old.
In the star-studded crowd, I suddenly found myself face to face with Cruz Castillo himself, A. I immediately burst into tears. A pulled me into a comforting hug as Marcy, who also happened to be standing there (!), put her hand gently on my shoulder.
“Are you going to pass out?” she jokingly asked.
I somehow managed not to. But the diehard Cruz and Eden fan in me was beyond starstruck to meet these two beautiful people so instrumental in shaping my perception of true love.
In addition to being a tremendously talented actor/writer and dedicated human rights advocate, A has a well-deserved reputation for being gracious, down-to-earth and exceedingly kind. Over of the course of many delightful meals together, I’ve had the good fortune of experiencing his generous spirit first hand. He is also a devoted family man who adores his three grown children and lovely wife Leslie, always speaking with boundless pride about them. A remains one of my heroes, someone I love, admire and respect with all of my heart.
With all of us living in different places, I’ve never had the pleasure of being with A, Marilyn and Lisa at the same time. This November, it’s finally going to happen with the first-ever Santa Barbara Reunion Cruise. Joining us for the four-night sailing from Miami to The Bahamas will be four other original SB cast members and a few hundred fellow fans (more info here, booking ends August 9th). In a nice bit of symmetry, the ship is Royal Caribbean’s newly-upgraded Navigator of The Seas – the very same vessel on which Lisa and I did our first cruise together 11 years ago.
Such beautiful connections forged because of one unforgettable show. Happy Anniversary, Santa Barbara. To celebrate, I’m raising a symbolic glass to Lisa, Marilyn and A. Love you all dearly and can’t wait to be together on the high seas!
Jun 9
The Not So Pet Friendly Skies
Since adopting my beloved pup Benji almost two years ago, we’ve traveled thousands of miles together. On every trip, be it by car, train or plane, he is always calm and easygoing no matter what surprises we encounter along the way. I can’t always say the same for me, especially when it comes to navigating how airlines treat passengers with Emotional Support Animals (ESAN).
More often than not, we are subjected to unnecessary hassles under the auspices of following ESAN procedures. Procedures that seem to change depending on what airline and which employee you’re dealing with.
The most maddening, frustrating experience checking in with Benji ever happened recently on Delta, flying back from Puerto Rico. The desk agent insisted there was no record of ESAN approval, despite my submitting the paperwork a week before and having checked in without incident for my outbound flight. As every airline advises, I had brought all required documentation with me. Standard protocol is that, if any issues arise, a supervisor reviews it and has authority to clear you for travel. Or you can call the airline’s special service desk and they will make a notation in your reservation. This time though, neither tactic accomplished anything.
While Benji and I were at the desk, I called Delta and a helpful associate immediately updated my reservation with the ESAN approval. But it didn’t show up on the desk agent’s screen and he refused to speak with the Delta rep. He maintained my paperwork was out of date, even after I showed him an email confirming approval for Benji on our outbound flight just three days earlier. His supervisor misread it as an acknowledgement of receiving the paperwork and not clearance – even though those two communications look nothing alike.
About 45 minutes into this ordeal, they tell me that I need to have something signed on my doctor’s official letterhead. Interesting since this is not stated anywhere on Delta’s website or in the airline’s downloadable PDF of required ESAN forms. I present a form signed and dated, with my doctor’s official stamp. How could I have flown with Benji three days ago if my paperwork wasn’t correct? Can’t they look it up? The supervisor says it gets deleted once a flight is consumed. And yet curiously, after just a few keyboard and mouse clicks, she manages to call up my previous itinerary, find the approval and transfer it over to my return flight. Benji and I race frantically to the gate, barely making it in time.
This needless drama shouldn’t have surprised me. Delta has the most frequent and infuriating ESAN service issues. As Benji and I were boarding once, a flight attendant glanced at him and said with a fake smile–
“Just a reminder, no food or water.”
“Excuse me?” I answered, baffled by this unheard-of directive.
“No food or water because it will make him have to go to the bathroom.”
Dripping with condescension, the attendant also smugly maintained that she “knew the rules.” Not so much, as it turned out. A quick tweet to Delta revealed that pets are permitted to be fed and given water as long as they remain in their carrier.
On our most recent Delta trip, Benji and I were about to settle into our seat when one of the attendants snapped—
“I have nothing in my computer about any pets being on this flight.”
Really? Then how could we have even boarded the plane in the first place?
Delta typically validates ESAN paperwork for both segments of a round trip. The unnecessary drama in San Juan happened because approval was applied only to my outgoing flight. Meanwhile, American Airlines assured me that ESAN paperwork remains valid in their system for a year. Except, of course, after they decide to change one form a few months later without indicating as much on their website. The previous version has the exact same information from my doctor and yet I still had to fight with AA to accept it.
Each airline requires its own separate documentation. So if you are in the unfortunate position of forgetting to bring one airline specific form, don’t expect a competitor’s to suffice. During the Delta kerfuffle, I presented United’s two-page medical authorization form signed by my doctor as additional verification. They refused to accept it. I’ve lost track now of how many times I’ve had to bother my doctor to fill out different forms that all say the exact same thing.
The inconsistencies in airline ESAN policies happen in flight as well. Some cabin attendants have said Benji must remain in his carrier. Others say only for takeoff and landing. Never mind that airline websites state your animal has to fit either in a carrier under your seat or on your lap.
I understand the need to prevent passengers from traveling with dangerous, ill-behaved animals. Especially in light of several incidents where people have taken advantage of the ESAN privilege to smuggle creatures like snakes and peacocks on board. Airlines have a right to demand that passengers claiming their pet is for emotional support have documentation to back it up. What they do not have the right to do is treat those of us who follow the constantly changing rules like we’re somehow at fault.
We deserve a lot better and so do our four-legged companions.
May 1
Single Gals No More
Last weekend, my dear friend of 20 years Taslin came to visit from New Orleans. It was a simply perfect, soul soothing couple of days into which we packed a lot. We went out for some great meals (sushi and Thai food), took in a Broadway matinee (Mean Girls – smart, witty and fun) and, of course, talked non-stop.
One of the highlights of Taslin’s visit – introducing her to Jessie’s Girl, my longtime favorite 80s cover band. I’ve been going to see JG for a decade now and they never disappoint with their tireless energy and amazing two hour concerts featuring some of the era’s most beloved pop and rock songs. This particular show had an added dimension for me. Because I got to enjoy it with one of my best friends. And because Jessie’s Girl performed during the most memorable moments of this year’s 80s Cruise.
My third voyage on the nostalgic annual sailing turned out to an unexpectedly life changing one. It felt like God was giving me this amazing do over after being in the vise-like grip of depression the previous two times. Though The 80s Cruise lineup is full of fantastic headliner artists, Jessie’s Girl is the band that really brings everyone together. They’re the hardest working musicians for sure, performing six shows, each with completely different set lists.
It’s no surprise then that this talented and totally awesome group provided the pitch perfect soundtrack to the moments I will forever cherish most from this year’s cruise. The sail away party that gets the 80s party started. An intimate jam session with JG and Tiffany on the last night which found me dancing up a storm to Toto’s hit Africa. And, sigh, the beautiful slice of time when I connected with my boyfriend Steve.
On a breezy night at sea, as the band played to a packed crowd on the pool deck, I stood toward the the back by myself. I savored every beat of the music, on a high from seeing Kenny Loggins in concert earlier and feeling completely present. Though Steve and I already knew of each other, had been Facebook friends for awhile and met briefly at the cruise pre-party, this was the first time we got a chance to talk. Our connection was immediate, the conversation effortless. I so loved talking to Steve that I asked a friend of his to take the above picture of us. Of all the photos from this year’s cruise, it’s the one where I’m smiling the most. Little did I know that was a preview of what was to come for us.
Now I understand why people say love finds you when you stop looking for it. Before meeting Steve, I had not only stopped but accepted that love wasn’t in the cards for me. Taslin felt the same before meeting her husband Ross. She and I talked a lot about the winding road to meeting our soulmates. We fully appreciate the miracle of finding a life partner in this day and age when social norms seem to prioritize a toxic dating culture over committed, long term relationships.
Since falling in love with Steve, I’ve found myself thinking about the mountains of advice that people have given me over the years. Always well intentioned, most of it rings true. With one very big exception — that my expectations were too high. That I was unrealistic to want what my late, adored parents had with each other.
In nearly 30 years together, the magic and mutual passion they shared never went away. Dad himself said, their love was like cement — it could never be broken. Mom assured me I would eventually find that kind of relationship. With someone who would, to paraphrase how she once described Dad, fulfill the wildest dreams of my imagination. Mom, I am so very happy to finally be able to say — you were right.
That’s the thing about true love. It doesn’t require settling or giving up the values you hold dear. It brings out your best, most authentic self because at long last, you’re finally with the person who really sees who you are and loves you unconditionally. The same exact way you love him.
Even for a writer like me, there are no words to say how thankful and blessed I feel that Steve and I found each other. I’m so excited about all that’s ahead for us. Including, of course, seeing Jessie’s Girl again on the 2020 sailing of the 80s Cruise.
Mar 26
Remembering A Cherished Friend
Earlier this month, I was on a cruise when I decided to text my dear friend Molly. We hadn’t been in touch since the holidays and she was on my mind. I told her I would call when I got home. Two days later, I found out on Facebook that Molly had passed away. She was 45.
Molly and I first got to know each other during our junior year in high school. I was new to NYC’s Nightingale-Bamford School, where most of the girls had established cliques going all the way back to kindergarten. Molly went out of her way to welcome me with open arms. We bonded quickly and easily over our shared love of the written word. Even then, she was a brilliant, thoughtful writer. She knew poetry (William Carlos Williams was a favorite). She contributed to Nightingale’s highly regarded literary magazine. While inhabiting that rarefied space of being both a great talent and intellectual, she was also incredibly open and loving. She radiated warmth.
Though we lost touch after graduation, Facebook helped us reconnect. Not long after my ill-fated move to L.A. three years ago, she was one of the first people to reach out to me. When we met for dinner, the time apart disappeared instantly as we shared everything about our lives past and present. I felt the same ease and joy in Molly’s company that I had in high school, deeply thankful to have her back in my life.
It was only at the end of the meal, almost as an aside, that Molly revealed she had metastatic breast cancer. I was knocked back. How could this gorgeous, vibrant woman be in the midst of fighting for her life? She spoke about it matter of factly and briefly, insisting I tell her more about how I came to be on the West Coast. I admitted that I had been struggling with depression and thoughts of hurting myself. She hugged me tightly and made me promise to call her if those thoughts ever returned. Just a few months later when that happened, Molly did so much more than pick up the phone.
In the middle of a weekday afternoon, she dropped everything to take me to hospital, staying by my side in the emergency room for hours until I was transferred — around midnight — to a psychiatric hospital outside of L.A. During that horrendous week, Molly visited me, brought me things from home and stayed in constant communication with my family. After I was discharged, she texted and called daily, giving me strength and hope when I had none of my own. Molly called me courageous. When I expressed my profound gratitude for all that she had done, she said with love—
“Thank you for allowing me to be there.”
That was Molly.
Even though both of my parents died of cancer, losing Molly to this horrible disease feels more unfair, more difficult to fathom. Mom and Dad’s declines were swift once their cancer metastasized, devastating but expected. Molly was already stage 3 when we reconnected three years ago. Treating it like a chronic condition, she attacked it ferociously from all angles, documenting her journey on her blog and Instagram. Last year, she appeared in a New York Fashion Week show benefitting Cancerland. I was fortunate to be in the audience, watching her glide down the catwalk with such power and beauty and never imagining that was to be the last time I would see her.
I will always be grateful for the tremendous blessing of Molly’s friendship. Her light will never be extinguished for all of us who knew and loved her. Rest in peace, my dear friend. You will reside in my heart forever.
Feb 19
Savoring A New Age Bracket
I recently celebrated my 45th birthday. Now, as a longtime friend reminded me, I will be checking the box of a different age bracket on surveys.
While it’s unnerving and more than a little humbling to feel the swift passage of time, I can’t help thinking of all the good that has come with officially being in my mid-forties.
The round numbered birthdays may receive more fanfare, but 45 has already proved to be equally deserving of it. Because even more so than previous ages, this one feels like a new chapter. Especially when comparing it to how I felt turning 40.
As I’ve said many times, the big 4-0 seemed like a blinking neon sign illuminating the things that didn’t precede this milestone—most significantly, marriage and motherhood. I know I’m in good company when it comes to departing from the trajectory that women are still largely expected to follow. And yet, I found myself feeling less than those who’ve taken a more traditional path, like I had failed in some way.
Flash forward to my cousin Alexandra’s baby shower earlier this month. I sat a table where everyone except me had children. For the first time, I didn’t mind being the anomaly. It struck me that having children isn’t meant to be part of my journey and that’s okay. I felt with every fiber of my being the absolute rightness of where I am in my life. I thought about how much I have to be thankful for — especially my beloved fur baby Benji, who fills my days with the unconditional love, joy and affection that make animals such magical creatures.
I am finally experiencing what so many women have told me about the stronger sense of self that accompanies this decade. And no longer feeling the need to apologize or justify who you are, finally embracing that the only person you really need to be true to is yourself. I understand this in a way I couldn’t have before facing some life-altering trials. Finding my way out of a crippling 18-month depression showed me that not only am I enough, but I can feel proud of each line etched on my face. Because I’ve earned every single one.
Age is more than just a number. It’s a beautiful opportunity to celebrate how far you’ve come – and, with the help of God, loved ones and a little determination – how much more you have to look forward to. After all, isn’t that what being both older and wiser is all about?
Dec 31
A Friend-tastic Year
Friends are the family we choose for ourselves — that’s always been one of my favorite sayings. It’s never felt truer, especially when I think about this year.
2018 gave me many cherished opportunities to reconnect with dear friends near and far.
This summer, I spent a wonderful week in Colorado with Lisa, who I go back with more than 30 years. A loyal confidante and supporter, Lisa is someone I’ve always looked up to. We share a unique and rare bond, one which intensified following the untimely passings of our beloved parents. Though God knows it’s something you never want to have in common, He also knows what it means to have a friend who fully understands that loss console you. What is more, Lisa met my Mom and Dad and I met hers. Though we were out of touch for a few years, we picked up right where we left off during my visit, laughing and talking effortlessly for hours. Time and distance are no match for true friends.
I was reminded of that again when I caught up with friend Vania for the first time in a while. We met about 10 years ago, clicking immediately during a girls night out at the rooftop bar of NYC’s Peninsula Hotel.
A vibrant spirit with a knack for bringing people together and razor-sharp sense of humor, she is also a great listener. Vania and her delightful boyfriend Dave joined me at The Pierre for two outdoor summer events as well as for my recent annual holiday party. They are a perfect fit for each other and such fun to be around.
When it comes to fun, there’s been no shortage of that and so much more with longtime friend Marilyn.
A beloved part of my life for 27 years now, Marilyn has become like a second mother to me with her unfailing wisdom, understanding and zest for life. She came East from Ohio in September to visit her lovely daughter Karen and the three of us enjoyed afternoon tea at The Pierre. Marilyn stayed over and we talked into the wee hours of the night, continuing a longstanding tradition whenever we see each other.
A pair of work trips brought my dear friend of 25 years Camilla to NYC. Born and based in Norway, Camilla and I lived on the same floor during my junior year in London. I’m even more in awe of her now than I was then.
A married mother to three beautiful girls, Camilla ably juggles her career with parenthood and a strong, loving relationship of more than 20 years. Over brunch and a stroll through Chelsea Market, we fell into easy conversation about life, love, politics and more. The time flew by. I haven’t been to Norway since Camilla’s gorgeous wedding 11 years ago, so I think I need to start planning a return visit!
Speaking of weddings, last month I headed down to Miami for the nuptials of my dear friend Taslin.
Taz and I met at journalism school 20 years ago, quickly bonding over academic demands and adventures in dating. Her effervescent spirit and thoughtfulness meant so much as I dealt with the passing of my mom six weeks after school started. It filled my heart with joy to be there for her special day. Taslin and longtime love Ross exchanged vows at sunset on the beach in an intimate, moving ceremony that made me believe in happily ever after all over again.
A November benefit for the non-profit Hopeland reunited me with Chicago native Shantel, in town to produce the first-class event.
I first connected with Shantel about 10 years ago, when she was a producer for the Oprah Show and one of my PR clients was Tourism Queensland. We worked on a fun segment together and remained in touch. It was through her then-day job that she became acquainted with Hugh Jackman, whose wife Deborra Lee Furness founded Hopeland. Hopeland’s mission is to help protect children at risk and keep families together. They are doing incredible work and I was thrilled when Shantel told me about it and my hotel The Pierre was able to support the event’s silent auction. She did a fantastic job coordinating the A-list entertainment, which included knockout performances from Hamilton’s Ari Afsar and The Greatest Showman’s Keala Settle.
Last but most definitely not least, 2018 provided two fantastic weekends with my 80s cruise BFF Natalie. In June, we met up in Vegas for the finale of my beloved Ricky Martin’s All In residency at MGM’s Park Theater. More recently, Natalie came in from Ohio for my annual holiday party.
I was over the moon to share this magical time of year with her. In just 3 years of friendship, Natalie has already given me a lifetime’s worth of unconditional love and support, becoming a cherished friend as well as a favorite travel companion.
I am profoundly blessed and beyond thankful to have all of these incredible women as part of my chosen family. Looking forward with great anticipation to more adventures with each of them in 2019.
Happy New Year all!
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