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Community Talk makes it easy for you to find relevant, informative articles from First Wives World's leading contributors, all in one place. All content is hand picked by First Wives World and covers a wide range of topics important to you.

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Last weekend, I won a fish at the county fair. It wasn't a big deal -  it was the kind of prize you win from aiming, quite badly actually, a ping pong ball toward a cup full of water. I didn't even try to win. Knowing how bad may aim normally is, I threw the tiny plastic ball with no expectations. Somehow, by whatever forces of gravity and chance, the ball landed inside a cup instead of bouncing off its side, and I was given a ticket that read: 1 free fish.
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Friday, 30 August 2013 16:46
In "Walden; or, Life in the Woods", Henry David Thoreau wrote, “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” A few sentences later, he wrote, “A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind.” If I had been more introspective during the earlier years of my life, I would have realized those words (written in 1854) were meant for me. Instead, I put my focus on my labors, as Thoreau witnessed his neighbors do. I spent my time watching others lead lives of quiet desperation and I ignored my own happiness. I let things slide by that you can never get back and I allowed other things to destroy parts of my soul. Just as you have done.
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Thursday, 29 August 2013 16:50
Last week, I had a terrible fight with my ex-husband. It didn't start out as a fight. In fact, it started as an amicable conversation about new tires for our shared car. We agreed to take a trip together that weekend and take care of it, and on the ride there we discussed ordinary things, like what each of us was doing at work, our new apartments, my sister's recent graduation. But then, something went awry. He asked me a question about someone I was dating, and the conversation veered into dangerous territory. Emotions bubbled to the surface, and an off-hand comment he made about my potential romantic interest turned into a heated argument about the past. I realized mid-way through that we were having the same fight we had been having for years. And if it had never been resolved before, it certainly wasn't going to be resolved that day, either.
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Tuesday, 20 August 2013 15:02
One of the most valuable lessons my divorce has taught me is to depend on no one but myself. It isn't that I was a helpless female from a Disney drama before my divorce. I have always had life skills, and I am an educated woman with common sense. It's more that I had become accustomed to a life that made me feel secure. My husband was someone I loved, but he was also much more than that - he was the person who was always there, no matter what. If a friend had news, I would go home and share it with him. In a lightning storm, I could always reach out for his hand. When the car broke down, he would know what to do. He was a part of me, and I would like to think that I was a part of him, at one time. When we parted, I felt like the most important part had been stolen from me. I was alone, and I was broken, and no one could ever help put me back together again.
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Wednesday, 14 August 2013 18:26
Many of us have suffered through awful marriages, bitter divorces, and are now staring ahead at the future.  That future involves all sorts of unknowns - financial, emotional, romantic, just to name a few.  Divorce can be the end of one ...
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Tuesday, 13 August 2013 18:26
Many of my friends think that I'm a funny person. They laugh at my jokes (even when I don't know I've told one) and if asked, most people would tell you I'm fun to hang out with. I suppose I have always been able to see the humor in everyday situations. Overall, I think friends and acquaintances would describe me as entertaining. Little do they know that on the inside, I am unbearably depressed on most days, and it takes all of my resources to try to escape the sadness. I usually fail. When faced with divorce, I tried even harder to escape the pain, only to find out that there is no escape.
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Wednesday, 07 August 2013 19:32
My ex-husband did a lot of little irritating things when we were married. He clinked his spoon loudly when eating yogurt, and whistled, much to my chagrin, when working in the room next door. He was miserly with money, and I didn't care for his choice of friends. But overall, we didn't argue often, and even if we bickered, I was rarely truly angry. At the most I would feel disappointed, annoyed, or sad. From time to time I felt mad, but I managed to keep my hostile thoughts to a minimum. Nothing prepared me for the fury I would feel when we began the process of divorce.
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Tuesday, 06 August 2013 15:51
When I first heard me ex-husband say the D word, I wanted to disappear. I imagined taking flight from my anguished body and leaving him, myself, and the whole world behind while I soared unnoticed between treetops overhead. Every time he pronounced that horrible word, DIVORCE, I pictured myself air-borne, weightless, and invisible. If I were invisible, he wouldn’t be able to divorce me. But gradually, I had to come back down from my lofted position in the imaginary sky. I couldn’t hide, or disappear, or magically become invisible to the world. I would have to live in it, and face the stark unavoidable reality that he wanted to leave. And everyone would know, and they would all have to see me suffer. I couldn’t take refuge in autonomy, because we did not live in New York City or Los Angeles. We lived in a town of a thousand people, and there was nowhere for me to hide.
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Thursday, 01 August 2013 16:42
My ex-husband and I were married for eight years, and lived together for seven of them. I know that doesn’t seem like a long time compared to couples who have weathered the trials and joys of twenty years or more. My own grandparents were married for over forty, until death closed a heavy coffin door on their marriage, leaving my grandmother alone and confused about how that could be possible. For forty years she had woken up at six to make his breakfast. She sat across from him every night at dinner, and fell asleep to the sound of his gentle snoring. When he got sick, she made a habit of checking and double checking that he took every pill, drank enough water, and didn’t exhaust himself. They hadn’t spend more than a night apart since he had returned from war all those years ago. Then, one day, he was gone. 
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Thursday, 25 July 2013 21:04
I know a farmer and his wife, and they are a perfect couple. Well, maybe not perfect, but close. At least to me, they seem to have everything. They have a beautiful house and two adorable children, and they are always smiling. Sophie, a wife and mother of two, is a beautiful woman who radiates warmth and happiness. When she was a bride, she wore a wreath of flowers, and the wedding ceremony took place under an old oak tree the groom’s father had planted as a boy. I envision them on their wedding day, though I hadn’t yet met them and so I wasn’t there. Still, I can see them. They were youthful and in love, and  brimming with the sense of possibility. They had their whole life together ahead of them, and it would be such a wonderful life. They would wake up each morning with the sun, and sleep peacefully at night in their cozy home, nestled deep in the rolling green hills of the Hudson Valley. I envied them.
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Wednesday, 24 July 2013 20:02