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At some point, many of us realize we don’t just struggle to trust romantic partners  anymore we struggle to trust people, period. Friends. Coworkers. Family. Strangers. Even the versions of people we thought we knew. And it’s not because we suddenly became bitter or closed off. It’s because life—divorce included—has shown us that people are complicated, inconsistent, and sometimes deeply disappointing. When Trust Breaks, It Doesn’t Stay in One Lane Here’s the thing no one really talks about: when trust breaks in a big way, it doesn’t stay neatly contained. A divorce might be the catalyst, but the ripple effect touches everything. You start questioning: Who actually means what they say? Who is showing up because they care—and who is showing up because it’s convenient? Who disappears when things get uncomfortable? Who is only supportive when it costs them nothing? Once you’ve been let down by people who promised they wouldn’t let you down, blind trust stops making sense. Trusting People Used to Feel Simpler There was a time when trust felt automatic. You assumed people were honest. You believed effort meant intention. You took words at face value. Now? You notice patterns. You read between the lines. You pause before opening up. That’s not negativity. That’s experience. And experience has taught you that not everyone who smiles is safe—and not everyone who promises keeps their word. Trust Isn’t About Assuming the Worst Distrust doesn’t mean you think everyone is out to hurt you. It means you understand that people are human—and humans are capable of letting you down. Trusting people now looks like: Letting actions matter more than apologies Allowing access slowly instead of all at once Keeping expectations realistic instead of idealistic Accepting that someone can be “nice” and still not reliable You can believe in people without  putting them on a pedestal. The Quiet Grief of Losing Faith in People One of the hardest parts about struggling to trust people overall is the sadness that comes with it. Not anger—sadness. The sadness of realizing: Some people were only meant for a season Some relationships were built on convenience, not care Some loyalty was one-sided Some kindness came with conditions That realization changes you. And it’s okay to mourn the version of yourself who believed more easily. Relearning How to Trust—Without Losing Yourself Trusting people again doesn’t mean going back to who you were. It means evolving. It means: Being open but observant Kind but boundaried Hopeful but grounded Willing to connect without abandoning discernment You don’t have to assume people are bad. You just don’t have to assume they’re safe either. You don’t need to assume people are bad. You also don’t have to assume they’re safe. Trust is something people earn through consistency, not something they automatically receive. Trust becomes something people earn through consistency, not something they’re automatically given. Learning to trust people again isn’t about hardening your heart—it’s about protecting your peace. You can still believe in good people while acknowledging that not everyone is capable of being one to you . Trust doesn’t mean access. And boundaries don’t mean bitterness. They mean you’ve learned. And learning is not something to apologize for.

Somewhere along the way, being single turned into a group project filled with unsolicited opinions. “Are you seeing anyone?” “You’ll meet someone when you stop looking.” “My cousin’s friend met her husband at Target.” Thank you, very helpful. I’ll go ahead and add “romantic destiny, aisle 12” to my to‑do list. But here’s the truth no one talks about enough: being single isn’t a problem to solve. It’s a season to survive, enjoy, and occasionally laugh through— one day at a time . The Art of the 24-Hour Commitment: When you’re single, “taking things day by day” isn’t a sign of a lack of ambition. It’s a survival tactic. Some days you’re thriving: • You meal prep. • You work out. • You feel emotionally stable and possibly unstoppable. Other days: • You eat cereal for dinner. • You cry over a song you weren’t even dating. • You consider texting someone who should remain in the Witness Protection Program. Try to think about this: you don’t need a five-year plan. You need a plan for today. And sometimes, that plan is simply: don’t spiral. Single Math Is Different When you’re in a relationship, people ask, “Where is this going?” When you’re single, the math changes: Did I get out of bed? ✔️ Did I answer one email? ✔️ Did I resist the urge to romanticize a stranger who held the door open? Mostly ✔️ That’s progress. We don’t measure success in milestones anymore—we measure it in emotional stability and clean laundry . Healing Is Not Linear (It’s More Like a Drunk Squirrel) One day, you feel healed. The next day, you’re mad about something that happened three relationships ago. That’s not failure. That’s being human. Taking things day by day means: Letting yourself feel it without overanalyzing it. Not forcing closure just to feel “caught up.” Accepting that healing shows up differently on different days. Some days you’re reflective and calm. Other days, you’re angry and googling “why do men” at 11:47 p.m. Both are valid. You’re Not Behind—You’re Just Living Offline Being single often feels like everyone else got a secret timeline you missed. Engagements, weddings, babies, anniversaries… meanwhile, you’re celebrating: Canceling plans A good night’s sleep Not sharing your snacks But life isn’t a race. It’s a weird, winding path where sometimes the win is simply not settling for the wrong thing. Taking things day by day reminds you that your life is happening right now, not someday when someone else shows up. Small Joys Are the Whole Point When you stop obsessing over “what’s next,” you start noticing: Morning coffee that actually tastes good Laughing way too hard at your own jokes is peace instead of chaos, I say to myself I'm so funny all the time :) The freedom to change your mind without explanation These aren’t filler moments. They’re the main event. Today Is Enough You don’t need to have it all figured out. You don’t need to be “ready” for anything. You don’t need to know who’s coming next. You just need to show up today. Because some days, being single means growth. Some days it means rest. Some days it means eating dessert first. And honestly? That sounds like a pretty solid life to me; take life, one day at a time. 💛 or not... You do you and do it unapologetically. xoxo Erin and for your entertainment: A drunk squirrel:

Once upon a time, I tolerated dating games. The guessing.The waiting. The “he watched my story but didn’t text me” math. That version of me had free time and low standards. She is no longer available. No, sir, you cannot play games with me anymore. If your communication style requires decoding, a crystal ball, or a group chat of friends to interpret, please know I will be exiting quietly and blocking loudly. I’m not asking for daily poems or carrier pigeons. I’m asking for: Consistency Clarity And the bare minimum of adult behavior If your energy is hot one day and cold the next, congratulations, you’ve invented emotional whiplash. I do not have insurance for that. And let’s be clear: If I wanted confusion, I’d rewatch my ex explain “what he meant.” I’m in my bad ass woman era . I eat dinner at a reasonable hour. I go to bed on time. I do not stay up wondering what a text meant. So no sir.If you want to play games, download one. If you wish to attract attention without effort, try a mirror. If you want access to me, show up like you mean it. This is not an audition. This is the final cut. Just do not do this to me or anyone...Thank you sir!

If 2025 were a person, it would be that friend who says, “Trust me, this will be good for you,”  and then immediately hands you emotional whiplash, a plot twist, and a bill you weren’t expecting. This year had a lot of audacity . It tested patience.It tested boundaries. It tested how many times one person can say, “Wow, that wasn’t on my bingo card.” So before we close the book on 2025, let’s pause and ask the fundamental question: How are you feeling about this year—honestly? Not the polite answer.Not the “I’m fine” answer.The real  answer. Because if your response includes a deep sigh, a nervous laugh, or “well…,” you’re not alone. Divorcee Edition: Why This Year Felt Extra Spicy For divorcees, time works differently. One minute you’re thriving, the next you’re crying over something completely unrelated, like a song in the grocery store or the fact that no one ate the leftovers you saved. Maybe 2025 was the year you: Realized healing is not a straight line—it’s more like a drunk squirrel Thought you were “over it”… until you weren’t Got really good at doing things alone and surprisingly okay with it Learned that growth often shows up disguised as mild chaos Progress this year may not have looked glamorous. It probably looked more like emotional stretch pants . Staying Positive (Without Lying to Yourself) Let’s be clear: staying positive does not  mean pretending 2025 was magical. If it was magical, it was the kind of magic where something disappears—usually your patience. Here’s how to keep it light while still moving forward: Laugh at the Plot Twists If you don’t laugh, you’ll spiral. 2025 proved that life loves a surprise ending, and not all of them need to be taken personally. Redefine Success Success this year might have been: Not texting back Leaving earlier than planned Finally saying “no” Or simply not crying in public (much) These are wins. Stop Romanticizing “Where You Should Be.” If you had a dollar for every time you thought you’d be “further along by now,” you’d be financially healed. But life doesn’t follow a Pinterest board—it follows vibes, lessons, and timing we don’t control. Accept That Optimism Can Be Sarcastic You don’t have to be glowing with positivity. Sometimes optimism sounds like: “Well… that was terrible. But I survived.” Still counts. . So Let’s End 2025 With This Before we let the clock flip the year again, take a moment to ask yourself: What moments this year taught you something real? Where did you stand up for yourself, even when it scared you? What patterns showed up that you’re now ready to leave behind? What didn’t  work — and what does that mean for how you want to be treated moving forward? You don’t need a perfectly wrapped ending to close out the year. You need to recognize that you made it through. You learned things you didn’t ask to learn. You handled situations you didn’t want to handle. And you became someone who knows themselves a little better—whether you like it or not. So if you’re closing out 2025 feeling stronger, softer, wiser, funnier, more tired, or all of the above—congratulations. You did the work. Here’s to stepping into whatever comes next with humor, boundaries, and the understanding that healing doesn’t mean being serious all the time. Sometimes it just means laughing and saying: “Well… that was a year.” — Divorcee Dish

There’s something oddly comforting—and painfully familiar—about Surviving the Holidays when you watch it as an adult, especially if you’re divorced. On the surface, it’s a chaotic holiday comedy. Awkward family dinners. Forced cheer. People pretending everything is fine when it clearly isn’t. But beneath the jokes is something more profound: a story about loneliness during a season that’s supposed to feel full—and what happens when the magic you once relied on no longer shows up the way it used to. When you’re younger, magic happens . It lives in traditions you didn’t have to plan, families that felt permanent, and the assumption that someone would always be there on Christmas morning. You didn’t question it. You didn’t budget emotional energy for it. You just showed up. After divorce, the magic doesn’t disappear—it fractures. Suddenly, Christmas is quieter. Or louder in the wrong ways. Maybe you’re negotiating schedules instead of decorating together. Perhaps the house feels too big—or painfully empty. Maybe the traditions you loved now belong to a life that no longer exists. In Surviving Christmas , the main character literally tries to buy a family for the holidays. It’s funny, but it’s also heartbreaking—because it captures that exact feeling: I don’t want the presents; I want the belonging. Divorce Changes the Texture of Joy What no one really talks about is how divorce doesn’t just take a relationship—it reshapes how joy feels. Holiday joy used to be layered: Anticipation Shared memories Familiar rituals Someone witnessing the moment with  you After a divorce, joy often feels thinner. Still there—but quieter. Less reliable. You may feel guilty for not feeling festive enough. Or pressured to “make it magical” for others while quietly grieving what you lost. And grief doesn’t stop just because the calendar says it’s time to celebrate. Watching Surviving Christmas  as a divorced adult hits differently because the awkwardness is no longer exaggerated—it’s recognizable. The forced conversations.The pretending.The sense of being out of place even when surrounded by people. That’s the reality for so many divorced adults during the holidays. You’re present, but not entirely comfortable. Smiling, but monitoring your emotions. Trying to honor the season without reopening wounds. It’s not that you’re bitter. It’s that you’re changed. Losing the Old Magic Doesn’t Mean You’re Broken Here’s the part that matters most: losing the old magic doesn’t mean you’re incapable of joy—it means you’re in transition. The magic you had before was built on certainty: Certainty of roles Certainty of family structure Certainty of who you’d wake up next to After a divorce, certainty is gone. And magic doesn’t thrive in uncertainty—it has to be rebuilt. That takes time. And honesty. And permission to admit that some years won’t feel the way you hoped. If Surviving Christmas  teaches us anything beneath the comedy, it’s this: the longing for connection never goes away—but it can change shape. The new magic might look like: A quiet morning without expectations Creating traditions that are yours , not inherited Letting go of perfection Finding warmth in chosen family, not just biological ones It’s subtler. Softer. Less cinematic. But it’s real. And maybe the actual loss isn’t the magic itself—but the belief that magic is supposed to look the same forever. If the holidays feel different now—if Surviving Christmas  feels a little too relatable—you’re not failing the season. You’re surviving it. And sometimes, that’s the bravest kind of magic there is.

Dating after a relationship—whether it was long-term, short-term, serious, or complicated—can feel like stepping back into unfamiliar territory. You’re wiser, more cautious, and probably more precise about what you want. And then it happens. A message that sparks hope.A compliment that feels intentional.A connection that seems promising until it stalls. If the interest never quite turns into effort, you may be dealing with breadcrumbing. What Breadcrumbing Really Is Breadcrumbing is when someone gives you small, sporadic bits of attention to keep you engaged, but never enough to move things forward. They text occasionally. They check in “just because.”They flirt, react to your stories, or say they miss you. But they don’t make plans. They don’t follow through. They don’t build anything consistent. Breadcrumbing creates the illusion  of interest without the substance of it. Why People Breadcrumb People breadcrumb for many reasons—but the common thread is avoidance. Here are some of the most frequent ones: 1. They enjoy the validation. Your attention reassures them. Your responses feed their ego. But they aren’t invested in a real connection. 2. They want access without commitment. Breadcrumbing keeps the door open on their terms—low effort, low responsibility. 3. They’re emotionally unavailable. They like connection in theory, but distance in practice. Breadcrumbs feel safer than vulnerability. 4. They’re unsure of what they want. Instead of taking time to figure it out, they keep people loosely attached while they decide. 5. They don’t want to be honest. Fading in and out feels easier than saying, “I’m not interested in pursuing this.” None of these reasons requires you to wait around. Why Breadcrumbing Feels So Confusing Breadcrumbing thrives on mixed signals. When you start to detach, they reappear. When you’re ready to move on, they say something that pulls you back in. It’s not enough to feel secure—but it’s enough to keep you questioning yourself. That confusion is the point. Healthy interest brings clarity. Breadcrumbing keeps things ambiguous. How to Catch Breadcrumbing Early Once you know what to look for, breadcrumbing becomes much easier to spot: 1. Effort never increases. Weeks or months pass, but the dynamic stays the same—casual messages, no progression. 2. Plans are vague or nonexistent. “Let’s hang out sometime” replaces actual dates. 3. Communication is inconsistent: L ong gaps followed by sudden bursts of attention. 4. You’re always responding, not being pursued. You’re fitting into their life when it’s convenient and not being prioritized. 5. You feel unsettled instead of grounded. Your intuition keeps asking, What is this, really? Listen to that. What to Do Instead You don’t need to prove your worth or demand effort. You can: Ask for clarity early State your needs without apology Or step away when consistency isn’t there Someone genuinely interested will meet you with intention—not confusion. Breadcrumbing isn’t a reflection of your value, and it’s a reflection of someone else’s capacity. They can't handle the fun, then run!

The holidays are supposed to be joyful. The lights glow brighter, music fills the air, and social feeds overflow with smiling families and perfectly wrapped moments. But for many people — especially after divorce, loss, or a significant life change the holidays don’t feel magical at all. They feel heavy. Holiday depression is real, and it’s more common than we like to admit. Why the Holidays Can Trigger Depression The holiday season amplifies emotions. If you’re already navigating grief, loneliness, financial stress, or the aftermath of a relationship ending, this time of year can magnify those feelings. Common triggers include: Loss and grief — missing a partner, loved one, or the life you once had Loneliness — especially when routines change, or kids are with the other parent Comparison — measuring your reality against curated holiday perfection Pressure — to feel happy, grateful, or “over it.” Disrupted routines — less sleep, more alcohol, irregular schedules For divorcees, the holidays can be especially complicated. Traditions shift. Homes feel quieter. And the silence can be louder than any holiday party. Signs You Might Be Experiencing Holiday Depression Holiday depression doesn’t always look like sadness. It can show up as: Feeling numb or disconnected Irritability or emotional exhaustion Changes in sleep or appetite Withdrawing from friends or events A sense of dread as the holidays approach Feeling overwhelmed by things that once felt manageable If you’re thinking, “Everyone else seems fine — why am I struggling?” — you’re not alone. Let’s be clear: feeling low during the holidays does not mean you’re ungrateful, weak, or failing. It means you’re human. The holidays shine a spotlight on what’s missing as much as what’s present. Acknowledging that truth is not negativity: it’s honesty. If the weight feels too heavy, reaching out for help can make a real difference. Support might look like: Talking to a therapist or counselor , even short-term Checking in with your primary care provider , especially if symptoms feel physical Leaning on trusted friends or family — you don’t have to explain everything. Joining a support group , especially for divorce or grief Calling or texting a mental health hotline if you feel overwhelmed or unsafe If you’re in the U.S., you can call or text 988 , the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, anytime. You don’t need to be in crisis to reach out — they’re there to listen. Small Ways to Care for Yourself This Season You don’t need a complete life overhaul to survive the holidays — sometimes small steps matter most: Create new traditions , even simple ones. Permit yourself to skip events that drain you. Limit social media if it fuels comparison. Prioritize rest, nourishment, and movement. Let yourself feel what you feel — without judgment. Healing doesn’t mean forcing cheer. Sometimes it means choosing gentleness. The holidays can be a reminder of endings, but they can also quietly mark beginnings. This chapter may feel lonely or uncertain, but it does not define your future or your worth. If you’re struggling, please know this: help is available, your feelings matter, and you do not have to carry this season alone. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do during the holidays isn’t smiling through the pain — it’s asking for support. And that, too, is a form of strength.

As 2025 comes to a close, many of us find ourselves doing what we swore we wouldn’t—looking back. Not to dwell, but to understand. Divorce has a way of dividing life into before  and after , and dating post-divorce often feels like a series of emotional audits: What worked? What didn’t? And why did communication feel so hard when we were “trying again”? This year was full of both growth and grief, hope and hesitation. If you’re divorced, dating, or somewhere in between, 2025 likely brought moments that stretched you in ways you didn’t expect. The Highs: Rediscovering Yourself and Your Voice One of the biggest wins of 2025 was self-awareness. Many divorcees entered the year unsure of what they wanted, only to end it with more precise boundaries and a stronger sense of self. The highs didn’t always come from relationships; they came from you : Speaking up instead of shrinking Walking away from situations that felt confusing or one-sided Realizing peace is more attractive than chaos Choosing emotional safety over potential For some, love showed up unexpectedly in the form of a slow burn, a healthy connection, or simply learning that being alone no longer felt like failure. That’s growth. The Lows: When Trying Again Felt Harder Than Starting Over: Let’s be honest—2025 also came with its fair share of disappointment. There were the false starts. The “almosts.” The people who said they wanted connection but disappeared when it required effort. The dates that went well… until communication didn’t. One of the hardest lows for many divorcees this year was realizing that trying again  doesn’t always mean trying better, especially when old patterns resurface. Miscommunication, avoidance, and emotional shutdowns felt especially painful because we thought we were past that stage of life. Ghosting hurts more when you’ve done the work. Silence cuts deeper when you’ve learned how to communicate. The Communication Breakdown: Talking, Texting, and Then… Nothing If 2025 had a theme, it might be this: constant miscommunication or complete cut-off communication. We talked about  communication endlessly, yet struggled to practice it consistently. Some patterns that surfaced: Over-texting instead of honest conversations Avoiding hard talks to “keep things easy.” Pulling away instead of asking questions Assuming instead of clarifying Shutting down at the first sign of discomfort For divorcees, cut-off communication can be especially triggering. It echoes old wounds being dismissed, ignored, or left without answers. The silence isn’t just silence; it’s unresolved history knocking again. It's cowardly. What 2025 Taught Us About Love After Divorce This year reminded us that healing doesn’t make dating effortless; it makes it honest . Trying again doesn’t mean tolerating confusion. It doesn’t mean chasing clarity from people who can’t give it. And it definitely doesn’t mean abandoning your needs to keep someone comfortable. 2025 taught us: Consistency matters more than chemistry Communication is action, not intention Emotional availability is not negotiable Silence is an answer, and yes, it will create a new type of hurt even when you were trying to keep things simple You don’t need closure from someone who couldn’t show up - hell no, run the other way! As we step into a new year, the goal isn’t perfection—it’s awareness. Take a moment to recap your own highs and lows: Where did you grow up? Where did you settle? Where did communication break down—and what did you learn from it? You may ask WHY people are acting so immaturely still and feeling like they really couldn't care less about your feelings. You may see what you actually want and need. You may discover you are stronger than you've ever been. If 2025 taught us anything, it’s that love after divorce isn’t about starting over mindlessly. It’s about starting wiser . Learn from every experience. Just maybe trying again doesn’t mean opening your heart to everyone. It means opening it to what feels safe, reciprocal, and honest. Though be aware of the fools and the breadcrumbs. Cheers to discovery in 2026! Erin

(And Why We All Need a Yellow Light Too) Remember playing Red Light, Green Light as a kid? Run when it’s green. Stop when it’s red. Freeze when you’re caught in between. Dating later in life isn’t much different — except now, there’s a yellow light… and it matters more than ever. When you’ve lived, loved, married, divorced, healed (or are healing), you don’t get the luxury of reckless sprinting anymore. You also don’t need to slam on the brakes at the first unfamiliar moment. You need awareness. So let’s talk about red lights, green lights, and the underrated yellow light of modern dating: Red Light: Full Stop These are the non-negotiables. No bargaining. No “maybe it’ll change.” No explaining it away because you’re lonely. Red lights look like: Disrespect masked as “joking.” Inconsistent communication paired with excuses Blaming every ex for everything Rushing intimacy while avoiding emotional depth Refusing accountability or dodging hard conversations Love-bombing followed by withdrawal If it’s a red light, you stop. Don't slow down. Not “see where it goes.” You stop — because you’ve already been down roads like this, and you know where they lead. Green Light: Proceed (Thoughtfully) Green lights don’t mean perfection. They mean safety, consistency, and alignment. Green lights sound like: Words match actions Clear communication (even when it’s uncomfortable) Respect for your time, boundaries, and pace Emotional availability Curiosity about you, not just access to you Accountability without defensiveness A green light doesn’t mean sprint; it means you can move forward without abandoning yourself. Yellow Light: Slow Down & Observe Yellow lights aren’t deal-breakers — they’re data points. Yellow lights include: Recently divorced and still processing Emotionally guarded but self-aware Different communication styles Busy life seasons Hesitation around labels or timelines Yellow light doesn’t mean stop.It means pausing, watching, asking questions, and checking in with yourself. Have we made the same mistake before? We treated yellow lights like green ones — or red ones like “fixable.” Wisdom is knowing the difference. Why This Matters Modern dating isn’t about chasing chemistry at all costs. It’s about protecting your peace while staying open to connection. By now, you’ve learned: Love shouldn’t hurt constantly Attraction alone isn’t enough You don’t need to convince someone to choose you The game changes when self-trust becomes the goal — not just a relationship. Play the Game Smarter In the kids’ game, the winner isn’t the fastest runner — it’s the one who knows when to move and when to stop. Modern dating works the same way. Watch the lights.Trust your instincts Don’t rush the finish line. Because the real win isn’t finding someone to have fun with, to bring you peace, but the wondering "if" or "when" it’s finding someone without losing yourself.

Age-gap dating has been around forever, but let’s be honest: we’re finally in a moment where confident, successful women are done apologizing for liking what (and who) they like. And younger men? They’re thriving with partners who know who they are, what they want, and how to communicate like adults. Welcome to Cougar & Mantor Dating Rules ; because if you’re going to break the traditional script, you might as well do it with style, boundaries, and zero embarrassment. Whether you’re dipping a toe into younger-man waters or already have a season pass, here’s your guide to making age-gap dating fun, healthy, and drama-free. Own Your Confidence: It’s the Attractor Cougars don’t hunt —they attract. The biggest draw isn’t the candles on your birthday cake; it’s your confidence, clarity, and emotional maturity. Younger men gravitate to women who know themselves. If you step into this dynamic apologizing or overthinking the age difference, you’re already dimming what makes it magnetic. Rule:  If you’re going to date younger, do it boldly. No explanations. No disclaimers. The Age-Gap Math: “Half Your Age Plus Seven” (And Why It’s Just a Guideline) Let’s talk numbers, because everyone else is. You’ve probably heard the classic “dating rule”: The youngest person you “should” date = half your age + 7. It’s not a law, not a moral code—just a social guideline people toss around at dinner parties. But it is  a helpful lens for checking your comfort zone. 🔢 Example Time If you’re 40 : Half your age: 40 ÷ 2 = 20 Add 7 → 27 According to the formula, 27 is the “socially acceptable” lower limit. If you’re 48 : 48 ÷ 2 = 24 24 + 7 = 31  → Suggested minimum. Now flip it. If he’s the younger one and you’re wondering what people say his “max” age should be: The oldest person he “should” date = (his age − 7) × 2 If he’s 28 : 28 − 7 = 21 21 × 2 = 42  → You at 40? Well, within this math zone. If he’s 30 : 30 − 7 = 23 23 × 2 = 46  → You at 45? Squarely in range. So what does this actually mean? These formulas are just social comfort calculators, not compatibility tests. They can help you gut-check whether the age gap feels wildly off-balance—or totally fine. But they don’t measure emotional maturity, shared values, or how he makes you feel at 10 p.m. on a bad Tuesday. Rule:  Use the math as a guide , not a verdict. The real question is: Does this feel aligned with my values, my season of life, and my emotional needs? Don’t Parent Him or Her—Partner Him or Her The biggest trap? Accidentally slipping into a mentor/mom role. No one wants that. Not you. Not him. Age-gap relationships work when you are equals with different life experiences—not when you’re packing his lunch, proofreading his job applications, or fixing his skincare routine. Rule:  Be supportive, not supervisory. Be Clear About the Relationship Temperature Younger men can be genuinely interested in long-term partnerships…Or they can be in “season-of-life” mode. Both are valid—as long as you know which one you’re signing up for. Ask early: Is this fun and casual? Are we building something? Are you exploring? Are you here for a good time, a long time, or both? Rule:  Don’t assume his age defines his intentions—ask. Keep Your Expectations Realistic A younger man can absolutely be emotionally mature. He can also still be figuring out his career, finances, and long-term path. You cannot expect a 26-year-old to behave like a divorced 45-year-old who’s already had a mortgage, a meltdown, a marriage, and a minivan. Rule:  Expect chemistry and connection—not life experience he hasn’t lived yet. Set Boundaries Around Time & Communication If he’s still in the “late-night texts, last-minute plans” phase of life, don’t slide backwards into it. Yes, spontaneity is fun... No, you are not available at 10:58 p.m. on a Tuesday. Rule:  Your standards don’t get younger just because he is. Keep Your Life Full—He’s a Compliment, Not a Centerpiece You’ve built a life you love. Don’t shrink it for someone still building theirs. Younger men tend to admire women with full calendars, big goals, and rich friendships. Don’t pause your momentum just because he’s fascinated by your world. Rule:  Don’t become smaller to make the age gap feel smaller. Leave the Age Jokes Alone He knows you’re older. You know you’re older. We all have calendars. But constant jokes about being “old,” “a fossil,” or “his senior citizen” kill the vibe and the confidence that attracted him in the first place. Rule:  If you can’t date younger without self-deprecation, you’re not ready. Let the Chemistry Be What It Is—Not What You Think It Should Be Age-gap dynamics can be electric: energetic, playful, refreshing. They can also be deeply intimate, stable, and supportive. Don’t let stereotypes script your experience. Rule:  Let the relationship define itself, not society. Protect Your Heart—Not Your Image Some friends will judge. Some will cheer. Some will ask wildly inappropriate questions. Their opinions don’t matter. Your emotional well-being does. If he’s inconsistent, avoidant, or only shows up when it’s convenient, age isn’t the problem— his behavior  is. Rule:  Don’t ignore red flags just because he’s shiny and younger. Have Fun: Seriously You’re not enrolling in Cougar School. There is no diploma. This isn’t a performance. Dating younger should feel energizing, easy, and joyful; not like a secret mission. Rule:  If it stops being fun, stop dating him. Age Isn’t the Story—The Connection Is Cougar and Mantor dating isn’t about reclaiming youth or proving anything. It’s about connection, compatibility, and chemistry—regardless of birth year. The math can give you a framework. Your heart, your intuition, and your boundaries give you the truth. If he brings out the best in you, makes you laugh, respects your boundaries, and shows up with effort? Who cares if he doesn’t remember dial-up internet? Fun comes in unexpected packages. Sometimes… those packages are just a little younger.

The holidays have a way of shining a spotlight on everything—our joy, our stress, our families, our loneliness, our magic, our mess. And for divorcees, the season can feel a little different than it used to. Not worse. Not better. Just… different.   The truth is, once you’ve walked through a significant transition like divorce, your holiday wish list changes, too. You stop wanting the stuff that looks good on paper and start craving the things that feel good in real life.   So what do divorcees actually want for the holidays?   Let’s unwrap it.   1. Peace (Wrapped in a Bow, Please). Divorce teaches you a new appreciation for peace—the kind that comes from quiet mornings, uncluttered plans, and the choice to say “no” without guilt. No chaos. No arguments. No emotional gymnastics. Just peace. Simple, steady, and yours.   2. Time to Breathe. Between co-parenting schedules, work deadlines, holiday events, and unexpected emotional waves, December can feel like a marathon. Divorcees want time to rest, reset, and maybe sit on the couch in pajamas watching three hours of Hallmark movies without anyone judging their predictable plotlines.   3. A Drama-Free Co-Parenting Season. For those with kids, the holidays can feel like a carefully negotiated summit at the UN. What do we really want? Smooth handoffs, clear communication, and holiday plans that don’t require twelve back-and-forth texts and a miracle. Bonus gift: a co-parent who sticks to the schedule.   4. Moments of Real Connection. Not forced cheer. Not performative joy. But honest conversations, real laughter, real memories with people who make us feel safe, valued, and seen. We don’t need a crowd—just the right humans.   5. To Make New Traditions Without Guilt. Divorce gives you a blank page, and the holidays are one of the first places you feel it. Whether it’s ordering takeout, opening gifts on a different day, taking a trip, or deciding to skip the tree, divorcees want permission to do the holidays in ways that reflect who they are now.   6. Emotional Safety. The holidays stir up old memories, old wounds, and old expectations. Divorcees want spaces where they don’t have to pretend they’re “fine.” We want conversations that don’t start with, “So… are you seeing anyone?” We want compassion over curiosity. Understanding over assumptions.   7. Something Thoughtful (Not Expensive). Contrary to popular belief, divorcees aren’t expecting luxury gifts. We want meaning: a handwritten note, a book that reminded someone of us, a cozy candle—something that whispers, “You matter.”   8. Rest from Being the Strong One. Divorce requires strength, and by December, many of us are tired of being brave. We want a moment where someone else says, “I’ve got you. Sit down. I’ll handle this.”   9. A Little Magic Again. Not the fairytale kind—just the feeling that good things still happen, that life can still surprise us, that joy isn’t something we have to earn. Divorcees want to feel hope, wonder, and possibility again.   10. The Reminder That We’re Not Alone. At its core, that’s the holiday wish: to know we’re supported, loved, and allowed to show up exactly as we are.   The holidays after divorce aren’t about replacing old traditions—they’re about rediscovering yourself inside the season. So if you’re a divorcee this year, give yourself the greatest gift of all: grace.   And if you love a divorcee? Show up. Listen. Offer kindness without conditions. That’s the gift that lasts long after the lights come down.

The holidays have a way of bringing out all the emotions—nostalgia, excitement, stress, and yes… the occasional why-is-this-so-hard  moment. When you’re divorced and co-parenting, the season can feel even more layered. Between juggling schedules, managing expectations, and trying to make the holidays memorable for your kids, it’s easy to feel pulled in a million directions. But here’s the truth: you can  create a joyful, meaningful holiday season—one that honors your children, respects your boundaries, and supports your peace. It just takes a little intention and a whole lot of grace. Here are some practical, heart-centered tips to help you navigate it all: Plan Early (But Stay Flexible) Holiday schedules are easier when they’re decided well in advance of the festivities. Communicate early—dates, times, school breaks, travel plans. But life happens—snowstorms, sick kids, work emergencies. Flexibility isn’t weakness—it’s the foundation of successful co-parenting. Mantra:   Plan with intention, adjust with compassion. Keep the Kids at the Center, Not in the Middle Your kids don’t need to hear the negotiations, frustrations, or disagreements. Shield them from adult stress. Keep conversations with your ex calm and focused on what your kids need most: stability, joy, and a sense of belonging—regardless of which home they’re in. Create New Traditions (Let Go of What No Longer Fits) Some traditions from your married life may need to be retired. And that’s okay. This is your chance to build something fresh and meaningful—gingerbread pajamas, holiday morning hikes, service projects, or a movie marathon with hot cocoa. Kids don’t need the “old way.” They need your  way. Keep Gifts Reasonable and Consistent Talk with your co-parent about gifts if you can—no one wants to play the “one-up” game. Aim for balance and avoid overcompensating with stuff. Kids remember how they felt, not how many presents were under the tree. Take Care of Your Heart Too The holidays can be triggering, lonely, and emotional—even years after divorce. Build in support for yourself: dinner with friends, a morning walk, therapy sessions, journaling, or volunteering. Remember: you’re not just co-parenting; you’re healing. Give yourself space to breathe. Make Space for the Tough Moments Your child might miss the other parent while they're with you—or vice versa. Instead of taking it personally, validate their feelings: “It’s okay to miss them. You’re allowed to love both of us.” This creates emotional safety, the greatest gift you can give. Split the Season, Not the Spirit You don’t have to celebrate on the same day to have a magical holiday. A “Second Christmas,” “Bonus Hanukkah,” or “Holiday Weekend 2.0” can be just as special. The calendar doesn’t define the moment—connection does. Communicate the Plan Clearly to Kids Kids feel more secure when they know what to expect. Share the schedule early and use simple language. If they're little, a visual calendar can help. If they're teens… a text works just fine. Put Peace Above Being Right This is the season to choose calm over conflict. You don’t need to win the argument, jump into old patterns, or prove a point. Sometimes the healthiest thing you can say is: “Let’s find what works for the kids.” Remember: A Beautiful Holiday Doesn’t Require a Perfect Family Picture Your holiday doesn’t need to look like a Hallmark movie. Beautiful doesn’t equal perfect.Beautiful looks like: laughter, effort, grace, compromise, new beginnings, and the steady love your kids feel from you. Co-parenting during the holidays isn’t always easy, but it is  doable—and even joyful. Your kids will remember the warmth, not the logistics. The love, not the labels. The moments you showed up with kindness, not the moments you felt stretched thin. You’ve got this. Truly.