For the first few years after my husband left me, I felt like one of those plastic garbage bags spinning in the wind, being tossed this way and that. I felt unheard, as though I had lost my voice. No matter what I said or did, I seemed to have no control over anything.
And then slowly, very slowly, I started to regain – or, in some cases gain – control. Most were baby steps, which I have documented in this blog: my year of saying ‘yes’, divorce negotiations with my lawyer, buying a house for the first time on my own, preparing a new will, changing my name.
But there was one problem I kept coming up against. Continue reading
thegreydivorcee 