Girls Just Want To Have Fun

As you may or may not know, this blog came out of my stumbling across the manosphere, listening what to these gruff and sometimes grouchy men had to say, and then realizing that it was information being said nowhere else that women like myself and those I knew needed to hear.

And I also knew that most women probably wouldn’t be able to stick around the manosphere long enough before they got offended, or in an argument with the men, and rejected the message entirely.

Because guys see things in a different way, it’s almost a different language, my I’d ea was to take the information that the men were sharing and then translate it into language that women could understand, would find helpful, and would not reject because of the way that it was phrased or who was saying it.

I also wanted this to be a welcoming space for male readers, just as they so graciously allowed me to hang around the “men only” manosphere and answer my million questions and not just run me off. Maybe I (and we) can give them some insight into the female brain, just like they gave me insight into the male brain.

And here I am, I don’t know how many years later, 6 or 7 years later, and I find myself writing less not because I don’t care about this anymore or I don’t believe in these things anymore but because I really feel like I rarely have something new to say that I haven’t said before.

If you are new here I would encourage you to dig back to the beginning of time and read from the bottom up or just poke around and read stuff as you see fit or use the search box and find things that you have questions about. There’s a lot of information here.

Today I was thinking about this concept of how girls just want to have fun and how it’s both an upside and a downside.

But for better or for worse it is the way the Creator has designed woman, and I truly think the world needs their levity when it is a positive force. The feminine nature is at its best inspirational and what makes civilization get built by men who like these silly happy creatures and making them happier.

But it can be also a huge blind spot and weak point for women who do not understand it themselves.

The naturals and cads of the world understand this about women intuitively, and know that appealing to a girls just want to have fun nature is a big part of connecting with them.

The downside to this of course is that women often get involved with the wrong kind of man, the love ‘em and leave ‘em cad, just because he’s witty or charming or knows how to talk to women and “be fun.”

In the past the man in a woman’s family would sort that out because they can see it better than women can and they would runoff the men that had bad intentions and not let them get close to their precious women They were trying to protect and wanted good future’s for.

Along came feminism which told women these men are trying to control you and you should be able to make your own choices.

It all sounds good but it’s kind of like Eve and the Apple. And what seems harmless can cause great harm indeed, including to her. Although she may be having so much fun at the time she doesn’t notice.

But if you look around and you observe how many women are being used and misstreated and ditched and hurt because of this, you will see the obvious downside and how it’s really not that fun except initially.

So ladies remember girls just wanting to have fun can have drawbacks. So make sure you’re sticking to the good fun side of things.

And to any men folk reading here I would say remember girls just want to have fun and so if you can somehow couch your interactions with them in the guise of fun you will probably find it is very effective, indeed! It’s like catnip! Use this knowledge well and wisely and for good.

Goodness knows with everything else that’s going on in the world we could all use a little more fun in our lives. Just make sure it’s of the productive sort.

What do you think? Please share in the comments.

The Farmer’s Wife


While I don’t always live up to these ideals myself, I think this posted elsewhere is good advice and I will try to heed it more:

Wise Advice from a Farmer’s Wife

Whenever you return a borrowed pie pan, make sure it’s got a warm pie in it.
Invite lots of folks to supper. You can always add more water to the soup.
There’s no such thing as woman’s work on a farm. There’s just work.
Make home a happy place for the children. Everybody returns to their happy place.
Always keep a small light on in the kitchen window at night.
If your man gets his truck stuck in the field, don’t go in after him. Throw him a rope and pull him out with the tractor.
Keep the kerosene lamp away from the the milk cow’s leg.
It’s a whole lot easier to get breakfast from a chicken than a pig.
Always pat the chickens when you take their eggs.
It’s easy to clean an empty house, but hard to live in one.
All children spill milk. Learn to smile and wipe it up.

Homemade’s always better’n store bought.
A tongue’s like a knife. The sharper it is the deeper it cuts.
A good neighbor always knows when to visit and when to leave.
A city dog wants to run out the door, but a country dog stays on the porch ’cause he’s not fenced-in.
Always light birthday candles from the middle outward.
Nothin’ gets the frustrations out better’n splittn’ wood.
The longer dress hem, the more trusting the husband.
Enjoy doing your children’s laundry. Some day they’ll be gone.
You’ll never catch a runnin’ chicken but if you throw seed around the back door you’ll have a skillet full by supper.

Biscuits brown better with a little butter brushed on ’em.
Check your shoelaces before runnin’ to help somebody.
Visit old people who can’t get out. Some day you’ll be one.
The softer you talk, the closer folks’ll listen.
The colder the outhouse, the warmer the bed.

The Hope Chest

Today I bought a vintage hope chest, to work on and refinish as a project with my oldest daughter.

For being a solid decade older than myself, it’s in pretty good shape. All it will need is a corner of lifting veneer reglued and a fresh coat of clear shellac to bring it back to its early 1960s prime.

But  I didn’t buy it because it is made of beautiful walnut wood with amazing graining, or because it is built to construction standards you cannot even find in furniture today, or because it’s worth $200 more than I paid even in current condition. Not that any of that is not enough, but I bought it for another reason.

I bought it because it’s time for my daughter and I to start talking in ernest about the idea of maturing from girl to woman, and of marriage. And preparing for marriage. And what that means.

I am not even sure if they still make hope chests to this day, or market them to every girl of a certain age in  high school with a free tiny cedar box, but they used to back in my day and in generations before. 

I remember when I brought my tiny cedar box home from high school, excited about the idea of a hope chest, and how my mom nipped that idea in the bud right quick. (I still have the little box, but never got a hope chest.)

In my mom and many of her generation’s mind,  hope chests represented a thing of the past. Gone, she believed, were the days were a girl needed to put things to start a home aside, dream of a good man,  and plan to bring something to the table to start a new life with him when that time came. As a team.

As I have written multiple times in the past, perhaps it was well intended “modern” advice, to put off marriage and kids as long as possible while focusing instead on self, but in reality it was disastrous (socially speaking.) No. That experiment has failed.  Clearly.

I think it’s time to bring back the idea of the hope chest and all it represents.

I look forward to restoring this sweet little chest with my daughter and the many discussions about all of that that will come.

Luckily my oldest is a sensible girl, she’s not boy crazy, and she’s not wanting to date even though she is the age where many would have racked up multiple notches already on too young of a belt.

I hope and pray that she will wait, find her other half, hitch up, and live happily ever after.  Without all the drama, trauma, and heartache “dating loads of guys first” can bring.

I hope that she will wait for her one and only and that they will be together for their entire lives.

What mom with any sense would not wish that for her daughter? Or not encourage her to indulge in the idea of a hope chest and fill it with the best of dreams?

Happily ever after is a good thing to dream of, plan for, work toward, and stick to.

I look forward to supporting that adventure!

What do you think? Please share in the comments! 


On Babies

Yesterday, my oldest came running up all excited from the chicken coop.

“Mom, I think they’re hatching! Come see!”

We snuck down for a look at momma hen, who a few months ago started sitting a nest the very next day after the local coyotes got three of our six laying hens. Gotta rebuild, I guess? Trouble was the eggs were duds.

We used to have a rooster, as I personally love the sound of one crowing in the morning, and because they protect and guide the hens, so I don’t have to. If you watch chickens you’ll see, the hens wander around, pecking and looking down as they scratch and forage for tasty seeds, plants, and insects. The rooster stands near the flock on alert, always scanning around and above for danger. I have lost several Roos to coyotes as they heroically threw themselves between them and the hens while loudly sounding the alarm, “Danger, back to the coop!” 

But after the last roo decided my three-year-old was a danger and flew at her and then anyone —including my ex who grabbed it and wrung it’s neck on reflex when it flew at him when he came to pick up our daughter — so into the pot it went, and we have been roosterless since.

But I digress.

So when the hen decided it was time for babies, she parked parked herself in a corner in the coop with a clutch of eggs and trust me, the look in her eyes told me, she was NOT going to let me take those eggs!

I told a friend of mine, whose farmer husband helps me out from time to time with bigger projects, “I don’t know how to break it to her, but she can sit there as long as she wants, but those eggs won’t hatch.”

The next day my friend showed up with five eggs from her place. She has almost 30 chickens, and a rooster. She cooed at the hen as she slipped the old dud eggs out, and the new fertile ones in about three weeks ago.

Yesterday, my daughter and I sat and watched the hen hunkered down in the corner, feathers a bit more fluffed and posture a bit more defensive and “stay the hell away” than usual. All ears. Then we heard it… “peep, peep.”

I can’t tell you how that sound brought such joy to our hearts! After all the trial these past few months, as the world got seemingly weirder by the day, we really needed that moment of lightness. Yay!

I think I heard two, but I didn’t want to disturb momma, and the chicks were tucked safely under her warm belly out of sight. We’ll find out how many there are soon enough, but for now we just want her to stay put on the last few eggs until they all hatch out.

(Nobody is a better momma than a momma hen, by the way! Lucky chicks! I feel sorry for ones raised by a lamp, no momma to fuss over them constantly. )

The rest of the day felt more hopeful, thanks to those peeps. And my daughter had a huge smile for the rest of the day.

Despite what current social norms say, about babies holding women back, I think babies —feathered, furry, or human — actually lift us up!

Trust me, as a woman who has lived in a man’s world, I would much rather be surrounded by cute little faces beaming with love, than sit in a room surrounded by competing and often unethical colleagues who don’t care a lick about me or anything but getting in front of the  line, no matter how ruthlessly they do it. No thanks.

As I lay here in bed, typing this on my phone before the rest of the house awakens, two adorable little faces are gazing upon me with love. They are the last two kittens from a group of four feral ones my neighbor rescued out of a long parked and abandoned VW Baja and then brought to me, his soft hearted neighbor who he knew would be happy to bottle feed them and find them homes. Two were adopted this weekend, and these last two will be going to live together at their forever home in a week.

Until then, I am going to revel in their cuteness,  and let their constant little baby needs distract me from the cares of the world. Because that’s what babies do, and between them and peeking in on the chicks, I won’t have time to worry about myself or things happening in cities far away. It’s not about me. It’s all about them. What a relief!

Don’t let anyone tell you differently, babies are a blessing and their spark and new life lift us up in a way little else can. Enjoy it!

Hopefully one of those five eggs contains a rooster! I’ll be watching close to see if any of the baby chicks stands more upright and looks up and around, unlike the rest.

What do you think? Please share in the comments! And I hope the news of our new arrivals lifted your soul up, too!

“Peep, peep!”



The Lost Generation

Something I have been pondering a lot lately is this concept of a lost generation.

Thanks to effective birth control, like many women of my generation, I was able to avoid pregnancy young, as I had been urged by my mom and others. They advocated to put off having children as long as possible. “Don’t waste your potential,” they said. “Invest in yourself.” As a result I had my first child at age 33 and my second at age 40.

I was very fortunate both times that I had no trouble conceiving, but I know many friends of my generation who are unable to do so in their 30s even with expensive medical assistance.

I have a 25-year-old helper who works in my business. She’s a go-getter, very enthusiastic, and is not afraid of getting dirty or doing whatever it is that needs done.

Her mom is the same age as I am, but obviously started younger. The more time I spend with her the more I realize I easily could have grown children her age, if I had started having children younger.  And how much I would enjoy it, if so.

When I ponder how much help she is to me and how much help a son her age might also be, I am not sure the advice to put off becoming a mom was so wise. Her young 20s energy is a great fit with my middle of the journey experiences.

Sure I enjoyed my 20’s, travelled, built my career, did things I maybe could not have done with little ones. And yet, was it worth it? Not really. 

When I did finally become a mother I realized I actually enjoyed it quite a bit. Even pregnancy it was not the misery I was expecting it to be, and had been warned that it would be. Perhaps I got lucky there but I never felt so good in my life as when I was expecting my two children.

And don’t get me wrong, I love my kids a lot and they are a source of great joy and are getting more helpful with age. No regrets! Yet I could practically be their grandmother, versus their mother, no matter how young I may look or act for my age.

Although I did not notice it in my youth, I now notice the “missing generation” more with time. I wonder how many others have this same longing later in life, recognizing what could have been that will never be?

There are some who believe every child is a gift, a golden crown. Planned or unplanned, perfect timing or not. The older I get the more clearly I see this is true.

Do not fear or put off having children, would be my advice. Celebrate each and every one! Surround yourself (and your good man!) with them if you can, and raise them up in a happy intact home. Build your tribe!

Sure, you may have to put yourself aside, but the return on that investment simply cannot be matched. To enter midlife and the elder years surrounded by a supportive family unit that you have invested in is gold. Not that this alone as a reason to have a family, but it is a good one!

I feel for my friends who have put careers first and never married or had children and who are seriously regretting that now. They post pictures of their fur babies and try to make it look like everything’s good but I know the sorrow in their hearts. Maybe not all of them, but more that way than not. And by the time that realization came, the ship had sailed.

And of course on top of birth control, there’s a whole other lost generation, the generation lost to Choice. Millions and millions who would never be. Many developed countries are grappling with this loss now.

Perhaps it’s all the unrest we have experienced over the past few months that brings this front and center. I find myself reevaluating what’s important, and looking back on what was important, and what was folly.

As I have written in the past when you were young it feels like life offers many chances. But with age you see every choice is a door opened or closed and there is rarely the opportunity to go back on the path and make different choices. We are all progressing along a linear line that is our life time.

Choose wisely so it adds up to a life well-lived!

What do you think? Please share in the comments!

(p.s. speaking of comments, while there are many worthy topics of discussion today, please try to stay on the topic this blog is about! Thank you!)

Self-Reliance is Freedom


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This recent turn of events seems to have a whole lot of people rethinking things. Like what would happen if suddenly there isn’t what you need at the store. Then what?

Well, then hopefully you already know how to provide some or all of that for yourself, or in the least can come up with some workarounds for what you can’t get.

Like let’s go right for the TMI — toilet paper. What would you do if you can’t find or get toilet paper? Easy! (And you can do this right now to conserve the paper you’ve got.)

Take one or two old towels and cut them up in squares the size of washcloths. It doesn’t need to be exact or perfect. Get a bucket and line it with a plastic grocery sack. If it’s yellow, use a towel to wipe and toss it in the bucket. If it’s brown, use the paper and flush it down. Every day or so, wash the towels on their own with detergent and a splash of bleach. If you are completely out of paper, you can just go full towel. Or you can use old magazines and the like, toss in the trash for the browns. (Don’t flush unless you want to learn how to diy plumbing, not recommended!)  Yep. Problem solved.

But back to the topic, of which the above is just one practical illustration and much better than going out and standing in line at store after store in the middle of a pandemic, possibly exposing yourself or others to a virus, when you could do the towel thing instead. It’s only for a few weeks, folks!

I think one reason for the underlying panic many are feeling (besides the irresponsible fanning of it on any major news station) is they are realizing they have no knowledge or ability to live without the system they have become dependent upon to provide for their needs.

Now would not be a bad time to order one of those self reliance, homestead type books that covers how to do everything from grow and preserve food, to generate power off the grid, to dealing with basic medical care on your own. Sure it is all on the Internet, but what if you did not have access to that for whatever reason? Books never go offline! Plus, it’s interesting stuff!

Even if you live in an apartment there is a lot you can do. I have seen people grow a crazy amount of food in pots. You can even grow sprouts in a jar for fresh eating! Basic knowledge of what plants can be foraged in your area are another source of nutrition if all else fails. Dandelion leaves, for example, are are an excellent source of vitamin A, folate, vitamin K, and vitamin C (in its raw form), and a good source of calcium and potassium.

Self-reliance also comes into play when it comes to protecting you and yours from infection. You don’t have to wait for the government to tell you what to do, all you have to do is understand viruses, how they spread, how to protect yourself, and what to do to boost your immune system in the case you do get sick. There is a LOT you can do, besides just give up and allow the virus to run its course. Like take vitamin C, salt water gargle, saline nasal rinse (neti-pot), zinc lozenges, elderberry gummies or syrup, garlic, raw honey, turmeric… look it up! There are LOTS of ways you can help your body fight back against a virus. Don’t believe, “there is nothing you can do.”

Hopefully in addition to encouraging a return to self-reliance (remember victory gardens?) this pandemic will also bring back into fashion the tried and true traditions of personal and social responsibility. If everybody practiced these, we would not need all this increasing government regulation and intervention.

If we need the government, military, and police to guide our every move and tell us what to do, then we are no longer free. It is from our own handing it over, abdicating personal and social responsibility and holding others responsible, too, that they have turned into the tyrant they have become.

So please, don’t beg the government to make things safe for you or demand they do what you really need to do for yourself. Because every time we do, we all become less and less free.

What do you think? Please share in the comments!



Flipping Narratives


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Well, who would have guessed a pandemic would get me writing again, but here I am! Glad to see you!

I am on day 15 of strict social distancing, and day 8 of complete just me and the girls lockdown. We don’t plan to go anywhere or see anyone in person for at least another month. If all the models are correct, my area should hit peak cases in about two weeks.

Luckily I am for whatever reason an early adopter, so I noted months ago that this was likely going to happen. I stocked up on food and supplies, figuring we’d be an a lockdown like I was seeing in China at the time, and I did not want to be caught unprepared. We’re stocked to the gills!

A bridge I have not crossed yet but will need to is to ask to skip visitation for one weekend. I think as the cases will be peaking then, and the other side is out in the wild and in rather high risk exposure roles at that, I hope that the reasoning will be obvious. Just one weekend. To be made up later, fair and square. (I would not play games with this.)

So after four or five zero outside contact days of not knowing what to do with myself and obsessively following news articles and researching about the virus, I found myself yesterday wanting to nest.

I have been cooking up a storm as the kids seem happiest when there is food in the works. I suppose on a most basic level, food equals we are still OK. I had for days been gently quieting the agitated folks on my regular social media, trying to be a voice of calm and reason when the rest of the crowd felt one step short of full blown Mad Max. I keep it light, breezy, slip in some red-pillish thoughts served with lots of plausible deniability.

I can only imagine what it must be like to be getting red pilled in a single week. It was hard enough for me over a span of several years. And yet here they are, the blue pill herd, not knowing what to do as the narratives they have clung to are coming crashing down around their ears. It is admittedly a bit much.

So I have been trying to be a helpful guide, saying things like, “It’s not crazy, it’s OK to change your point of view based on life experiences,” when they say they no longer support open boarders or overseas manufacturing or they can’t relate to their usual party holding up their relief check over ridiculous pork projects that can in no way be explained as making sense to be included. I virtually pat their hand.

Who would have though a virus could do so much to expose what we folks in the Red Pill world have been discussing for five plus years.

Yesterday, as I was nesting, I posted a few snapshots of domesticity, joking I was somehow turning into a 50s housewife in less than a week. I expected to get heckled and jazzed.

Instead, within minutes career gals were jumping in and confessing they were also baking bread and nesting and (gasp!) actually enjoying not going to work. I pondered how many of them will decide not to go back to their non-essential jobs.

Now of course that doesn’t solve the other problem Larry G pointed out when I shared this on another blog in the comments. He felt it might be good to let them know that all the good guys are long gone, and part of being a housewife included, well being a wife. And that maybe I should tell these 30+ SIW that the gentlemen have long since left the building. Good luck!

I figured Rome was not built in a day and told him I will share that when they get to the wailing about, “Where are all the good men,” part. For now, maybe best to just let this sink in.

I have long asserted that the SIW narrative is the blue pill flip of the soy boy. Maybe a few weeks in isolation with nothing to do but bake and explore their hobbies might put them in touch better than anything that they had been sold down the slave wage, dead end job river by those telling them staying home would only lead to sadness, abuse, and oppression.

I suppose for now they have the government to play the role of their provider and protector, but finding one of their very own in real life once this blows over may prove more difficult.

Anyway, I laughed when later that day I saw the president serve Ms. Markle a red pill straight up, unrepentant Alpha style. Let’s have a look, shall we?


Ouch! Yep, making your own choices is all fun and games until you’re held accountable to them and reality hits. Then a gal realizes she’s played her hand out capitalizing on her sexuality and youth, getting her every whim, thinking it would never end — until just like that it does and and still has decades and decades to go minus a title, crown, or royal privileges. Markle isn’t on her own yet, but if I were a betting gal I give it two years, tops! (Should have looked a little closer at the fates of Fergie and Wallis — not the lap of luxury life either had imagined ahead, I am guessing.)

Anyway, interesting times! What do you think? Please share in the comments!

Strange Times



Hi everyone just a quick note to say all is well.

As is always the case in summer, I  have been very busy this season and have been otherwise focused on the surreal and strange goings on socially and politically, which has left little time for red pill ponderings

Strange times.

I could not have made up some of the occurances of the past few years and more recently the past few weeks — if I had tried!

Hopefully its all going somewhere that, while messy at the moment, will eventually lead us to more solid ground.

In the meantime buckle up and try to be part of the solution not part of the problems!

On a personal and individual level I am doing good, one day at a time, one step at a time.

When I look back and add up how far things have come since my manosphere discovery days, I’d say while not perfect, I am getting it worlds better than I did before then and life is making much more sense for me and mine.

I hope it is the same for all of you. And that we are all better of for having taken this wild ride together! You’ve each taught me so much and I greatly appreciate each and every one of you!

What do you think of these strange times? Please share in the comments!

Nice Guy Syndrome


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A commenter suggested a really good resource that explains the concept of Nice Guy Syndrome and explains why in the SMP and MMP, nice guys finish last.

Please visit the link above for the whole scoop, but in short (from the website):

“Who is a Nice Guy?

  • He is the relative who lets his wife run the show.
  • He is the friend who will do anything for anybody, but whose own life seems to be in shambles.
  • He is the guy who frustrates his wife because he is so afraid of conflict that nothing ever gets resolved.
  • He is the boss who tells one person what they want to hear, then reverses himself to please someone else.
  • He is the man who lets people walk all over him because he doesn’t want to rock the boat.
  • He is the dependable guy at work who will never say “no,” but would never tell anyone if they were imposing on him.
  • He is the man whose life seems so under control, until BOOM, one day he does something to destroy it all.

Characteristics of Nice Guys

  • Nice guys seek the approval of others.
  • Nice guys try to hide their perceived flaws and mistakes.
  • Nice guys put other people’s needs and wants before their own.
  • Nice guys sacrifice their personal power and often play the role of a victim.
  • Nice guys tend to be disconnected from other men and from their own masculine energy.
  • Nice guys co-create relationships that are less than satisfying.
  • Nice guys create situations in which they do not have very much good sex.
  • Nice guys frequently fail to live up to their full potential.”


I think this information could help a lot of guys who have been taught, “Be nice and the girls will like you,” only to find out it does not work that way. Rather than the usual PUA advice, I think this route may work better for guys who don’t want to become a cad, but could use some tips for breaking free of being, “too nice.”

What do you think? Please share in the comments!




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Hello again! Its been awhile. Lots and nothing much has happened in the past few months. Still watching the world and looking at things from a red pill perspective, as always.

I have an update on my college friend. Somewhat of a red pill awakening.

As I said back in a previous post, he was in a bad situation, and struggling. To say he was blue pill was putting it mildly. He was the draft horse described in many a manosphere post.

After we had a few red pill conversations and I sent him some of the links many of you kindly shared, I didn’t hear much from him for awhile.

Then one day he reached out, saying he was the frog in the pot of water and the water was just too hot.

He had said once before, after we chatted about not much of anything, that he decided to put the gun away. It was only then that I realized his telling me he felt suicide was the only way out were not exaggerated. He’d literally been sitting there with his gun in the dark. Thank God he reached out, and I happened to be awake. I told him I hoped he’d always put it down and reach out.

Something about his tone this day too was very alarming. It was like he was trying to explain it was all too much, and that he coukdnt take anymore, and he was saying goodbye. Then…nothing.

I panicked, thinking the worst.

I immediately asked my guy what to do? Wait and see or call 911? I didn’t even remember where my froend lived exactly, having only been to his house once back in college. Luckily my guy’s mad research skills soon had the address.

Still no reply from my friend. So I called 911.

The operator took down the info but I was not sure how urgent they took the call. They’d have someone call, she said.

I was supposed to open my biz in less than 15 minutes, but my gut would not be quiet. I am not sure why, but I called my ex.

“I’ll meet you there,” he said without a moment’s hesitation.  Even all those years later he knew exactly where the house was.

He got there before me and knocked but no answer. Finally a woman peeked her head out and quickly shut the door again.

Just after he updated me, the officer called. He was naturally skeptical and I was more than a little glad that he wasn’t going to just take some random gal’s word for it. But after I told him of the situation, and the gun thing before, and said I was on my way there, he said they would go check and to please not approach but let them handle it.

I was beyond relieved to see my friend standing in his driveway talking to two police officers when I arrived, instead of an ambulance.

As I sat waiting, I hoped and prayed I had not overreacted and just ruined his life.

Apparently he agreed to leave with the officers, and as he walked down the driveway he spotted me. I hopped out of the car and he came rushing over to hug me.

I said I was sorry if I caused any trouble and please don’t be mad at me, but I wanted to be sure he was OK. He said he wasn’t mad and thought I did the right thing.

Then he turned around and saw my ex, who had arrived on his Harley. I think he was even happier to see him than me and he rushed to hug him, too. He told us both he wanted to go with the officers, and my ex said he thought that was a good idea and he’d be in touch.

After they pulled away my ex asked me to join him for a bite to eat and talk. I caught him up to speed on what I knew so far, and he agreed better for our friend to divorce than kill himself.

“Divorce sucks but it isn’t the end of the world,” he said. (Surreal!)

He kept his word and followed up, agreeing with me our friend needed men to help him, not a woman, and that I had done as much as I could.

The next weekend they both showed up in their leathers on Harleys. Looking like a happy and motley crew.

Our friend has gotten help for his depression and is on an experimental but new treatment protocol that seems to be working. He’s also seeing a therapist who he said he likes very much. And is hanging out with my ex.

About two weeks ago he texted me out of the blue, “I’m getting a divorce.” He finally told her he couldn’t do it anymore. Done.

As I have always said here, if people can avoid divorce and make their marriage work, I believe they should. But sometimes, they shouldn’t. I think he’s wise to take a break and focus on finding himself. Who knows, maybe in time they will work it out.

I heard from him again yesterday and he was happy to share all he’s been doing. He sounded hopeful. It’s not perfect but it’s a lot better. And he’s not thinking of hurting himself anymore as an answer.

Anyway to be continued, but so far so good!

Its a red pill world folks, and we’ve got to look out for each other.

What do you think? Please share in the comments!