Daisy Dooley Does Divorce
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sattvic strength. That strong, silent, inner peace that is the answer to all your problems and endless, destructive mind talk. One part discipline, three parts trust. What you are speaks volumes more than what you say.
sexual sorbet. The first person you sleep with after a break-up. A sexual palate cleanser to refresh the taste of a bad, broken relationship.
sperminator. A man who serves only one purpose: to fill your tank with his fertile seed.
spirit-lit. A form of spiritually informing literature and therapy-lite to help you access yourself and survive the crippling disappointment of divorce. See all of the above.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Believe it or not, a woman as daft, ditzy, desperate, daring, and occasionally as delightful as Daisy Dooley is someone I relate closely to. I’m not saying I’m quite that self-absorbed. Actually, that’s a fib because I am. But really, my life had started out with such promise. The idyllic childhood. The famous ancestry. The revered Oxford academic father. The beautiful interior designer mother. The place at Oxford University with the glittering social life to match. With a siren-spinning surname, I owed it to myself and my family to do something of note. So of course my future was all mapped out. I’d waltz out of Oxford and into some top job that marked me out as special, wouldn’t I? But that wasn’t quite the way it happened, and it knocked me for quite a loop. Really, who wouldn’t agonize over such monumental life cock-ups—realizing on your honeymoon that you had married the wrong man. Come on, could it get any worse?
Naturally I worried myself half to death about how I was then going to get my life right, let alone learn to love again—myself and a worthy mate, that is. So Daisy Dooley was born out of my own ridiculous and miserable myopic marriage and divorce, followed by my dire dating experiences. I found that the only way to reach the other side of unhappiness and raging insanity was to poke fun and send myself up in the most unbecoming, but hopefully often endearing way. And judging by the sales in self-help, I can’t be the only woman who has stood in a bookshop by a stack of best sellers, feeling utterly broken inside and turned with trembling hands to any uplifting tome that might just instill a further nugget of promise that actually, yes, if you believe this or chant that, you will feel less of a failure and more emotionally grounded and secure.
As I ricocheted from starter marriage to a relationship with a younger man that ended in—further shock and horror—my single mother status, at least I clung to my spiritual support. I began to believe in something bigger than myself—if the knight on the white charger wasn’t going to save me, at least my guardian angel might. I’ve lived through all Daisy’s disappointments but I have an amazing daughter to show for it. And would you believe it, after all the life knocks, I still believe in the happy ending!
5 Things
Not to Do on
Your First PDD
(Post-Divorce Date)
1 Get drunk
2 Get pregnant
3 Get arrested
4 Get even
5 Get married—again!