So this is a blog not just about being left. It’s about surviving being left. At 50. Not 20 or 25 when the whole world’s ahead of you and a fresh start really means that. Not 30 when most of your girl parts are still standing pretty erect, and the wrinkles haven’t started to show cause you’ve avoided the sun (and all that fun!). Not 35, when 40 is creeping around the bend but you tell yourself you, “still look good for your age.” Not the dreaded 40 that you get through because you’ve upped your workout regimen and changed your diet a bit, and bought some pricey wrinkle cream and started yoga and given up carbs. Not 45 when most people think you still look 40 and you’ve updated your wardrobe and gotten highlights in your hair and maybe a few “facial tweaks” just to maintain. Not 49 when you are in total denial. To be a woman, and to be left at 50, is a terrifying, challenging, painful thing that requires much strength not to “fall down the rabbit hole.” Let’s face it. Fifty-year-old men can get a woman 20 or more years younger than they are to at least date them. I do not exist to any 25-year-old man. He sees me and assumes I am somebody’s mother or wife. There’s no, “Oh, I hope that old broad is on the market so I can ask her out” thing. He doesn’t want to go to quilt shows with me. He doesn’t want to have an afternoon cup of Earl Grey tea. He doesn’t want a low cholesterol meal. But that’s okay with me. I don’t want to have to deal with all of that “younger guy who’s not a man yet stuff”. That “First Wife” stuff is thankfully over and done with. All of you reading this deserve better. So let’s be real about what our options are…to be left and to rebuild…our lives, in some cases, also our careers, and most importantly ourselves. Join me, won’t you?