Got to know when to hold ’em, when to fold ’em — The lyrics to Kenny Rogers’ song, “The Gambler,” looped in my head for weeks before my wedding. “You’ve got to know when to hold ’em Know when to fold ’em Know when to walk away And know when to run” I’ve long believed the Universe communicates with me through songs…

It’s not a hygiene thing. — Even on the days when my partner and I are fighting and my brain screams “head for the hills!” my body tells me the opposite. He smells so… right. His scent is intoxicating to me. It’s like after-shave or cologne — except he uses neither. He, in turn, loves my…

I want to know how the movie ends. — I came upon this meme the other day: “Retrosexual: Going back to an ex then blaming it on Mercury Retrograde.” Not usually a good idea, but I’ve been reviewing past relationships lately for insight into my wobbly marriage. Which is how I find myself across the table from Ed at…

At least that’s what we’re taught. — The murder of Sarah Everard, a British woman killed while walking home alone, shook women around the world. We’re concerned and angry. Mostly angry. We identify with her. I lived in London back when I was her age and walked home alone more times than I can count. …

Whose business is it anyway — Showmances are ubiquitous in Hollywood. During a film shoot, you’re isolated with a small group of people over a condensed period. There’s little time to see anyone outside of work, let alone date or pay your bills. The job becomes an alternate reality. A bubble. But what if your significant…

It’s a blessing in disguise — My daughter is on a Zoom bat mitzvah right now. The girl stepping into Jewish womanhood is the daughter of my ex-husband’s best friend, “Max.” Max and his wife “Sophie” used to be close friends. Max was the best man at our wedding. I’d known his wife before he did…

A writer’s conundrum — “First, do no harm,” rasped my father from his hospital bed as we flailed about searching for solutions to save him. He’d quoted this part of the Hippocratic Oath as if to say, don’t let the cure be worse than the condition. Leave the patient better than you found him…

They say it’s inevitable in the teen years. — You just turned 11. I’ve heard 12 is when you’ll start to push me away. The words, “I hate you” will pass through your lips more than once, especially when I’m doing my job correctly. Your tone may sharpen along with a snarky attitude and contempt for my very existence…

A new family and new traditions arose from the ashes of divorce. — “What are you going to be for Chanukah, Mommy?” my three-year-old daughter asked. She’d made a plausible connection to Halloween, which was still in the rear view mirror. I didn’t have a good answer and, to buy time, wholeheartedly endorsed her plan to be a fairy. Chanukah eight years ago…