You have survived illnesses, unhappy marriages and perhaps the most tragic loss of all, that of a child. But you're strong, somehow you found some glimmer of hope and grabbed on to it and slowly, slowly you began to refocus on the positive, the possibilities. You are extraordinary women.
40s. . .
One of you, who walked out of a marriage just months ago, wrote: "Life is wide-open. I don't know where I'm going, but I know where I've been." For the first time she looks forward to traveling on her own and after decades of marriage she feels lighter, free.
Yet another one of you said she always felt she led a life hovering on the outside looking in, until with a second blissfully happy marriage and some professional assistance feels as if she can finally accept herself and grow. Her talents, I can attest, are varied and magnificent.
She said: "I am no longer a shy little girl longing for acceptance. I have confidence in my future."
And, as she so succinctly and beautifully added, "It's easier to change course if you're already in motion."
50s. . .
|Tara Rinaldi soaking in her hot tub.|
Because I always want to protect your privacy while at the same time sharing your stories I will never, without your expressed permission, link what you have told me to your names and pictures, which brings me to the letter from the woman who lost her son. She told me she reached a point where she wondered about EVERYTHING (her capital letters) in life. She then became a grandmother and realized she felt safest and happiest close to home with her beloved husband of 45 years, cooking and looking after their menagerie of "chickens, horses, cats and dogs."
60s. . .