The Leap
…the leap was the easy part because the free falling didn’t cost you shit. It was the landing that was a killer.
J.R. Ward, The King
So, a bit about me. After all, it’s customary to at least kiss before going all the way—which this level of intimacy feels like—at least from my end.
This website and blog represent my personal flyer—headfirst– off the cliff of some of my deepest fears.
Until now, I’ve worked hard to maintain at least a patina of professional respectability and distance in my public face. Sure, I have close friends and family who know the real me, but now I’m hoping to open myself up to a much wider audience. It’s absolutely terrifying stuff. Exhilarating at the same time. Kind of like Kingda Ka—not that I would ever ride a roller coaster like that without a gun to my head. I’m not crazy.
I grew up on the upper east side of New York in very privileged circumstances—on Park Avenue with a chauffeured limousine driving me to my exclusive private school (silly girl that I was, I made our driver, George, drop me off two blocks from school so that no one would see me being driven in a stretch Cadillac—oh, well, the young are not known for their wisdom).
I had a seriously misspent youth, which I managed to hide, mostly, from my oblivious parents. I decided to imitate the Woody Allen movie, Manhattan, and asked my 46-year-old boyfriend (who looked like the Marlboro Man) to be my date to my senior high school prom. Classy, that was me.
I then had the dubious distinction of being the youngest person (at least at the time), to pass the NY state exam to become a licensed Workers’ Compensation Representative, appearing before Administrative Law Judges to represent workers who had been injured on the job. Why, you may ask? Because the geriatric boyfriend was a partner in the law firm where I worked. Naturally. Career choices dictated by dating—that is the story of my life.
After breaking up with the Marlboro Man, I ran away to Israel to live for a year and nurse my broken heart. Another boyfriend, and another bizarre career direction—this time, I worked for a private investigative firm going undercover to discover whether narcotics were being used on various kibbutzim (collective living places). Yup, I was a narc. My big achievement there was the inadvertent takedown of an international heroin ring. Inadvertent meaning accidental—total dumb luck. My life has been like that.
I then returned to the U.S. (after my cover was blown and I was almost beaten up), finished college and went to grad school (my International Affairs major again based on the boyfriend du jour, but this time, I got engaged to him). He was a Special Forces officer (I’d developed a taste for men in uniform in Israel) who I thought was cool and mysterious and romantic. I was wrong. He was just aloof and emotionally abusive. Thankfully, I didn’t marry that one. Shortly after, I started a career in national security (although I swear I didn’t grow up dreaming of becoming a U.S. nuclear weapons stockpile management expert—another of those things I just kind of fell into). Then, finally, I met the man of my dreams, my husband, Michael, who is the greatest guy in the world. Truly.
We had twin boys after a devastating struggle with infertility. Unfortunately, the difficulties getting pregnant were followed by a difficult pregnancy and capped off with a life-threatening delivery (I am nothing if not a drama queen), right before the apocalypse that wasn’t in Y2K. We brought our babies home on December 31,1999. Good times.
Then came the rough years—in a nutshell, I got really sick and no one could figure out what was wrong with me. At the same time, we moved from Washington DC to Annapolis, MD, my husband made a mid-life career change, and we renovated our new house while dealing with very small children. It was a mess. But, in the end it all worked out. I got smart about natural health, going back to school to get certified as a traditional naturopath, getting healthy in the process. My husband’s career was successful, and I finally admitted to the world that my secret passion is reading smut.
I think that brings us up to date. I think the only major milestones I left out were my multi-year stint at a seminary, and a two-decade battle with bulimia, which has been at bay for many years now, thankfully.
So, now we can go all the way. Hopefully, you’ll read my blog, follow me on Twitter, find me on Facebook and help me to get to know you, too.
We have a lot to discuss.
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