Blog by Yessica Maher, los Angeles Native.

She explores life after marriage, starting a career in her late 30's, relationships, breaking cycles of abuse, online dating, self care, fertility and depression. 

It's all over the place, but so is living. 

Would You Rather. . ?

Gluten free is easier and feels better than eating wheat. Food that makes me feel like death is coming for me through my digestive tract is evil. Even if it is buttery and flaky with sweet marzipan filling. It should be illegal to make sugar free foods if you can't make them taste better than the idea of starvation.  Meals should be based on taste and hunger. Anything that makes me want to brush my teeth to get rid of the taste should not be considered food. Yes, I've tasted sugar free snacks that tasted far worse than toothpaste.

We're all looking for something.  It might be a pinata with a blindfold.  It could be your keys that are just chilling in your door.  It could be sanity in the bathroom where you can lock the door and hide from kids.  I bet you've spent some time looking for a sock or two and just decided to accept your role in the House Elf Liberation Front (if you don't know Rowling, just know there are libraries for people like you). If you're really lucky, you have help looking for that ever elusive g-spot, even if it is just a girlfriend sipping a bloody Mary and describing the journey over dinner with lots of giggles. I'm looking for company, but it looks like I'd rather be alone.

I did it again.  I tried online dating.  It lasted less than a week this time, but the horrible feeling was just as fresh.  I'm in a different place from the last time and I didn't get pulled into the needs of others.  I was able to distance myself in some ways, but at the end of the week, I felt just as violated. There were a few decent people online.  We just wanted different things.  They wanted a forever partner and I'm not her. Two out of three men wanted me to get sexual because I was willing to say hello.  It was usually, "Hi.  Sex tonight?" Sometimes it took a few texts before they were comfortable enough to treat me like a discount hooker.  I wanted someone to stretch my perception, make me think, get my heart racing and give me peaceful moments.  It was too much to ask.

Laugh at my Freudian slip.  I did. The not gorgeous doctor stopped talking to me after this.  It was going so well as we talked books and museums.  The person I was thinking of was worth the slip up.


I'd rather be alone than go through all of this again . . .


Sometimes they are friendly for a while until they subtly ask for a picture, and not one you would be willing to share with the world.


I was up front with my shallow side.  I like looking at beautiful men. I like watching them run.  I may or may not have taken a few detours on my way to work to watch that lovely poetry in motion on Chandler.  It's a public service they perform and I will be that public audience, shamelessly.  I mean, there is a point to that really close relationship they seem to want with a bench press, and it's for me, right? Except, I won't dehumanize him to his face unless we mutually arrive at that point and I haven't gotten there.  He has to be amazing.  He has to be worthy of that next crush (#4 in 16 years, because I was a faithful wife). For now, I'd settle for someone willing to jump into my intensity.


There is a dating app that looks like a really great idea.  You get to see people that cross paths with you.  The problem is most of those people worked near me or at the same company, or they lived in my neighborhood.  It's all fun and games until you are looking over your shoulder on a Perrier run at your local 7-Eleven.  I got a "hello neighbor, it's nice to meet you" followed by, "let me bring you something from the store" in the same evening before I fully wigged out.  I live on a street that is 3 blocks long.  I made the mistake of naming it, and now I'm slightly paranoid every time I drive past the house he carefully described.



He ignored me after this and later the next evening I deleted the profile and the app because the gravity of my tiny one way street with no parking really sunk in.

And then on my way home tonight I met a beautiful hipster with blue eyes and a terrific smile while walking home with Kid3.  I may or may not have seen him topless through his bedroom window and I might have missed offering the neighborly suggestion for drawn curtains at night. I can't remember his name, but the look that was friendly and not predatory tells me I really don't belong online.  At least when looking for company. And no, he's not the one.  He looked really young.


Cut Flowers

The Look