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 scent first thing in the morning, after it’s had the night to marinate in me-ness. Our smells attract one another, our bodies are a couture fit. The rest we could work on.
My friend Jen and I used to talk about this in college. A guy could be the nicest…
“Boss up and change your life. You can have it all, no sacrifice.”
While rocking out to Lizzo with my 11-year-old, I think: I wish I’d had Lizzo as a role model when I was 25. She’s bold, brash and unapologetic. Her music inspires me to “be my own soulmate” and to feel “good as hell.” She’s the virtual girlfriend telling us, “Got to take a deep breath, time to focus on you.” I’m thrilled my Gen Z daughter gets that messaging. I wish I’d had it, instead of the fairytale crap I was fed as a Gen X-er.
I also wish I’d had a crystal ball, so I could have recalibrated some…
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. Also through billboards, books and seemingly “random” conversations. But mostly through music. I didn’t understand the message, though.
“You’ve got to know when to walk away, when to run.” So, my choices were to walk away — or to run?
But the song also said, “you’ve got to know when…
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. In fact, he’d met Sophie indirectly through me.
My husband and I traveled to Tuscany with Max and Sophie, we had babies together. Underneath my seemingly ideal marriage, though, was a lot of heartache and unhappiness. Eventually, I decided to leave.
During the year of separation before my divorce, I…
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. It’s my credo as a writer as well.
For better or worse, I feel driven to share stories. Writing is my cure to processing strong emotions and memories. It’s how I make sense of the world and share insights, joys, humor and tidbits about the human condition. I wish I…
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. I’m bracing myself and hanging onto the last year of little girlness before it’s all about make-up and friends and being cool. I’d like to think we’ll be the exception to the tween cliche, but already you’re hiding in the closet on the phone with your friends and applying mascara…
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 commemorated a fresh start for our family as I emerged from the ruble of a protracted divorce to build a new life in California with my daughter, Ruby, and my fiancé, Dane. Ruby did not yet comprehend the idea of being Jewish. This was the year I introduced her to…
We’re following stay-at-home orders, just moving our home temporarily
I whole-heartedly believe in the precautions recommended by the CDC and by Dr. Fauci. I’m an avid pro-masker. I’ve perfected the “death glare” at people who don’t take this simple precaution for others. I have not had friends and family inside my home since March. I’ve not been on a plane in over a year. I know we’re not supposed to travel this holiday season.
I’m going anyway.
It’s not a vacation to Seychelles or a weekend getaway to Cancun. I do not take this decision lightly. And I’m not actually going home for the holidays. …
TV writer, producer and author gone rogue on Medium
Fate nudged me in the direction of entertainment early on when I was offered an intern position at a Miami television station at the age of 15. After working there for two years during high school, I left for Dartmouth College, graduating with a degree in English and a desire to produce TV and movies. So, I set out for Hollywood a la Kermit the Frog (“Big time show biz! It’s always been my dream!”)
After working on numerous television commercials, including a couple years at Ridley Scott’s company, I segued to telling stories longer than thirty seconds in feature…
I’d thought starting an MLM biz was a detour. Turns out it was an important step on my path to success as a writer.
I’d just finished a job on a TV show, feeling weary and disenchanted. I’d been producing and writing television for years, climbing the ranks until my daughter was born. Now I took freelance jobs with less responsibility so I’d make it home in time to tuck her in. I’d started this particular show as a polish writer, which was perfect for our schedule. I worked a few hours in the office and mostly from home. Then, the show got picked up for thirteen more episodes, and I was hired to take over the story department.
At first, the job was…
Pam Suchman
TV writer, producer and author who writes about marriage, dating, sex, beauty, spirituality, Hollywood. Let’s stay in touch: www.pamsuchman.com
