As 2008 began, a lot of us made resolutions that we truly hope to keep. Aside from the typical, "I will lose 10 pounds," my resolutions have more to do with my emotional well-being.

I will not put so much pressure on myself.

I will not live by a schedule — I will be less anal retentive.

I will be more aware of the things I say and how they can be interpreted.

I will stop telling people how fat I am and how much weight I gained.

I will continue to think positively and I will continue to be open-minded.

I will be true to myself.

I will take a deep breath when I start to feel anxious and learn to appreciate being single.

I will add more culture to my life and spend less time shopping.

I will learn to stay in on a weekend to unwind and catch up on "me" time rather than partying till all hours of the night.

I will learn to call it a night before 4 a.m. on a weekend.

I will not send drunk text messages to guys.

I will start to save money again.

I will use my divorce as a template for all the things I know I can't live without in a relationship.

I will remember that people are who they are and for the most part will not change.

I will not stress out if someone does not call when they say they will.

I will stop comparing people to Steve and instead focus on what I am looking for.

I will stay positive.

I won't sweat the small stuff.

As 2007 comes to an end, I am grateful for a new year. I'm happy to rid myself of my daily planner that had all of my plans with Steve written throughout it. I'm looking forward to starting 2008 fresh, with a positive outlook that it will be a wonderful year.

Last year made me realize how strong I am, showed me how to keep things in perspective and enabled me to be more open-minded. It made me realize that although I am divorced, I'm fortunate for so many other things in my life. Although my life will never be the same, I believe and understand that the future can hold so much more.

I've formed new friendships, met some wonderful people, and learned how to date again. It has made my bond with my parents even stronger than I ever thought possible and it's allowed me to help friends who are going through the beginning stages of what I've been through. It has made me look back on the things I've done and the things that I was willing to accept. I know what I want for my future. It's all much clearer now.

This is the year that my friends and I turn 30. Although I know there are certain things I won't accomplish that I thought I would by the time I turned 30, I know there's plenty of time. I know all my goals will get accomplished. I will get re-married. I will buy a home in the suburbs. I will have children. I will do all the things that I always planned to do. It just will take a bit longer.

Goodbye 2007. I am ready for a new beginning.

I attended the funeral of a very dear friend's grandfather recently. He was 85 years old and he and his wife had just celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary. Their love affair lasted longer than most people ever get to experience in their lifetime. They were each other's soul mate and the one great love of each other's lives. He was a wonderful man.

I can't help but wonder what will be said about me when my time comes. Will I have found the one great love of my life? I truly loved Steve and wonder if I will ever love someone as much as I loved him. Will someone consider me the great love of his life? Will I be remembered as a good person? Will I have children and grandchildren who could look back on my life and say that I was a role model for them? Will I be remembered as showing my family how to love unconditionally and being able to teach them that they can do anything that they set their minds to? Will I be able to pass on the values that my parents and grandparents instilled in me?

In 60 years, I will be close to 90 years old if I am still alive. Although realistically that is a lifetime from now, I have often envisioned how I would be eulogized. Would they say, "She lived an unfulfilled life and never had children of her own," or "She was lucky in life but not in love," or "She leaves behind her four cats and two dogs who she adored as if they were her children."

I recently read an article in "Page Six" magazine that described the amount of pills New Yorkers take on a daily basis. The list goes on and on and incorporates Ambien, Klonopin, Paxil, Percocet, Ritalin, Valium, Vicodin and Valium — just to name a few. It seems that everyone has a reason why they "need" their drug of choice and somehow convince their doctors to write a prescription.

I wonder if a study has been done to determine how many of these people are in the midst of a divorce and are new "pill poppers". I can admit that my pill-popping has increased. I rarely took a Tylenol or an Advil unless I was in excruciating pain.

Now, although I would definitely would not consider myself to be a pill-popper, I've been know to pop an Ambien to help me sleep. I'm on a prescription of Doxycycline for my skin due to stress, I've been taking more Advil than for my headaches, vitamins to balance out my immune system, Zantac for my heartburn. I've been offered Zanax and Valium by half a dozen friends, and still have them wrapped in little tissues in my drawer just in case I decide I "need" them.

It's easy to find a doctor to write a prescription and it's even easier to have a friend who convinced their doctor to give them pills that they decide to share with their friends. It seems like we're all self-medicating to try to push the pain away from different parts of our bodies or our minds.

How many men do you know that have taken Viagra just because? How many people pop a Xanax before they board a plane? Half of my friends are on Prozac and I certainly don't think there is anything really wrong with them. Even illegal drugs are used to self-medicate — marijuana to ease the tension of a rough day, cocaine to help you stay awake. Everyone is becoming hypochondriacs. Nobody has to really face their issues — all they have to do is pop a pill.

What would have been my second anniversary has just past, thankfully. I decided to take the day off from work since I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate and spent the most amazing day by myself — at the spa! I treated myself to a full body scrub, followed by a facial, and finished it off with a massage.

It was wonderful. My phone was locked away in the lounge and I was out of touch for hours. I wasn't sad like I thought I'd be and I wasn't depressed like other people thought I'd be.

After my day of pampering, I went for dinner with a close childhood friend who was in town for the weekend. We reminisced and told stories and laughed. We talked about how our lives didn't turn out the way we'd thought they would and we agreed that it didn't matter because we were both happy and healthy!

Although it hasn't been a full year yet since my separation or divorce, it was the last real "first" I had to make it through. I've done holidays alone. I've done babies and weddings and birthdays alone — and now I've made it through my first anniversary without Steve.

I thought it would be more painful than it was. I guess I know in my heart that I needed to let go. I had a few weeks where I finally accepted that I was angry and now it's time to let it go. I have the rest of my life to experience "firsts" that will be of wonderful things, not things that remind me of Steve or how my life was with him.

I will have plenty of "firsts" and the memories that go along with them that will last a lifetime. And those will be even more meaningful.

It's the friends that you never have to ask to be there for you, but somehow always are — those are the ones who I hold the most dear to my heart.

My mother was driving me nuts this weekend trying to organize a family dinner. I know what she's trying to do. My anniversary is tomorrow and she was trying to make it out like she just wanted us all together. Sometimes I feel bad saying no to her. She's extremely sensitive, although doesn't admit it.

I didn't want to be with my family. I wanted to have a low-key day, which Stephanie had planned for us. We went shopping, picked up frozen yogurt, and went to paint pottery. It was the perfect day.

I didn't have to talk about what tomorrow is. Although I am far from artistic, painting pottery and joking around with Steph was extremely therapeutic. It took my mind off the hurt and she didn't ask questions. She knows when saying nothing at all is more meaningful than talking. And she knows that I know how much she cares.

It's amazing how someone that you've only know for a few years can become one of your best friends and know you better than people who've known you for a lifetime.

We went for dinner and over a bottle of wine, we talked a little bit about tomorrow. She tells me how strong I am and how she admires my courage. She was there the weekend when everything deteriorated and I knew my marriage was over.

She knows that what I went through wasn't easy. She knows how much I was willing to sacrifice to try to make my marriage work, just for the sake of keeping my vows. But she also knows that I deserve so much more and that I never truly would have been happy with Steve. I know she's right.

I had a wonderful evening with Shawn. He picked me up at my apartment before our date with another bottle of wine. He called me earlier in the evening to tell me what time to be ready. I asked where we were going and he responded, "out to dinner." I asked where and he said, "to a restaurant." I hate not knowing. I'm not too picky with food, but definitely have some hang-ups. And I'm also horrible with surprises.

We were late for our reservation because we were just relaxing and talking and not in a rush. It's just easy to talk to him and he thinks I'm hysterical. He gets my quirkiness and the fact that I have no filter with half of the things I say. On our walk to dinner, he commented on how I hate surprises. I'm a work in progress. I know I have to learn to let go. I thought it was sweet that he made an effort since that was one very frustrating aspects of my marriage. I'm not used to someone else making decisions.

We engaged in conversations with the entire staff of the restaurant, and our waiter even invited us to a party. We closed down the restaurant. I'm not used to that either. I was always the talkative one and felt like Steve was always disinterested in life. Shawn definitely shares the spotlight with me. We are both funny and make people feel welcome. It's a quality that I really find so attractive in a guy.

Shawn is not my "type." But the physical qualities, such as a great body and someone who is very tall, are so insignificant when I think of the more important qualities. The small gestures, like bringing over a bottle of wine and picking me up at my apartment, are the things that are making me like him more.

A few readers responded to one of my recent posts and accused me of being "desperate". I was a bit taken aback. Sometimes it's hard to see yourself and understand how other people see you.

I personally do not believe that "desperate" is a word I — or anyone I know — would use to describe me. Considering this year has been quite a whirlwind, and I'm also realizing that the previous years weren't so picture perfect either, it's understandable that all my days aren't going to be rosy.

It's understandable that I may not always be the life of the party and it's understandable that I'm going to have days where I'm not myself, especially around the holidays and my anniversary.

For anyone reading that hasn't had a bad day, has not felt sorry for themselves, and has not been stressed out at work, I applaud you. For anyone that has been able to wake up smiling every day, loving every aspect of their lives and not worrying about any part of their future — regardless of your marital status, I want your life.

I spent the first seven months post-separation not crying. I threw myself into my career, trying to focus on the positives in my life, not showing emotion and living my life as if nothing had occurred. I was "fine" and I truly believe that during those months, I was — I had to be.

That was how I dealt with my circumstances. I partied it up, spent weekends away with friends, socialized and began to date. But now I'm allowed to be angry. I'm allowed to worry about my future and I'm allowed to wonder "what if".

It won't last long — that's not how I'm wired. I'm grounded, well-balanced, and almost always have a positive and realistic outlook on life. And I know that I truly will be OK. But in order for me to continue to move forward, the one or two steps back had to happen. I'm almost ready to move forward again. Once I do, there will be no looking back.

It's always hard deciding which family to spend each holiday with. Thanksgiving is not so big in my family, since we focus more on the Jewish holidays. Who would have thought that less than a year later so much would change?

My sister-in-law, Shari, is due with her first child any day now. Rather than have her sit in traffic and be far from the hospital, I offered to host Thanksgiving at my apartment. I've never really cooked for my family, although it's one of my passions, so I cooked for two days straight and made a huge dinner.

It was a small group — just my parents, me, my brother and sister-in-law and my grandfather and his girlfriend. It was cozy, intimate, and exactly what I needed after making it through my second wedding anniversary only a few days prior. I made my family proud and it made me realize how very lucky I am to have such a supportive and loving family.

After a few stressful weeks and a bit of self-pity, I am ready to continue moving forward. Over dessert, my family made an executive decision that Thanksgiving would take place in my home every year. A new tradition was started and it made me feel wonderful. It was a tradition that was formed after my split from Steve. It was a tradition that I will never have to look back on as another event that we shared together. It was just what I needed.

My brother and I are only one year apart, and his wife and I used to compare "trying to get pregnant" stories. Steve's best friends were our travel buddies and the couple that we had our lives planned to be in synch with.

These were the people that Steve and I planned to have children alongside. What would be my second anniversary is less than two weeks away and the holidays are not far behind. Everyone's perfect worlds surround me as I try to stay afloat and focus on the positive aspects of my life.

It's hard. Sometimes I feel like I'm being punished. I believe in karma and I know I haven't always been perfect. My mother tells me that God doesn't work like that and that He forgives. I don't know what I believe anymore.

This is not where I saw myself being at 29. I pictured myself with a baby by now, and a husband who was strong enough to handle all that life threw at us. I thought I would have a husband that didn't give up. I thought that unconditional love would be enough for him — that I would be enough for him.

I thought I'd be hosting dinner parties for our friends and holidays for our families. I thought my brother and I would sit and watch our children play together. I thought we'd smile as we realized how lucky we were to be able to share yet another part of our lives.

I'm angry. I'm hurt. I feel broken. Although there we many good times, I feel like six and a half years were stolen from me. I want my life back.