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Category: Doing Divorce

Angela Dunne provides practical advice based on real examples of what she and her clients have faced through the transition of divorce.

Doing Divorce

Angela Dunne provides practical advice based on real examples of what she and her clients have faced through the transition of divorce.

A Single Statement

She wrote them all out:  42 reasons that she loved me, a gift for my 42nd birthday.   Each reason was handwritten on a separate notecard. “When I tell you drama, you tell me the truth about what you think.”  “You are okay with random Target runs.”  “You pretend to not know when we do things like this.”  Some funny, some sweet – the cards collectively made me cry. The one that most made me pause read “You prove being a single mother is not only possible, but amazing. (You raise/treat/encourage us so well).”  She has never referred to me as a
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My Birthday

There I am.  Whirling and twirling amid bubbles on my 7th birthday in my peach party dress.  Not a care in the world, perfectly present, and feeling loved and special in every way.  I love this image.  I love who I am in this moment.  I refer to it often – particularly around my birthday.  For me, this is how birthdays should feel. This week I will celebrate not just another birthday, but another year of learnings, moments both happy and sad and everything in between, and newfound wisdom and growth.  As many of you know about me, I love
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My Busy Brain

It started slowly. I started getting sick to my stomach prior to plane trips.  And then I was nauseous on road trips.  The triggers were random and illogical given my lifelong love of travel.  It took me a while to notice and connect the dots given my travel time was no less than months in between trips.  When additional triggers started, I decided I should see a doctor (after my mom told me to). I had good blood pressure, my pulse was also normal, and the blood panel results showed a solid row of normal.  She asked about my lifestyle.
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Sentimental Spaces

She was born last night.  Just before midnight Rowan arrived on April 5, 2017 after much anticipation into her parents’ arms.  Rowan is the granddaughter of my long time paralegal, Lori.  In the last couple of weeks, as the birth became imminent, Lori was asked by her middle son to be in the delivery room to help support with both her wisdom and photography skills.  Lori could not have been more thrilled to be asked to bear witness to life being brought into this world. Lori asked me to pull out the birth albums I have of my own daughters
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Sacrificing Smiles

She told a heartbreaking tale:  Of a marriage long desired, of children finally born, and of it all unraveling after.  Her marriage now finds itself in a house with two middle school age children and a spouse she barely considers a confidante.  Intimacy of any kind deserted them more than a decade ago.  And these words she spoke after finally meeting with the divorce lawyer to look at her options and dividing time with her children became real: “My happiness can wait.  I will have time to be happy.  I need to make the best of it as it is
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Spring Reminder

Each year I send a photo of my first spotting of a spring flower to my longtime friend, Melodee, in Anchorage. She sends me back a picture of her snow covered driveway.  It is a pause to appreciate the perpetual power of the seasons. Every year the crocus counsels me on the inevitability of spring. Every year I need her precious reminder. As winter comes to a close, I find myself mysteriously steeped in focusing on doubts and disappointments, mostly in myself. Am I once again pledging to purge the little stacks and bags and boxes lingering in corners? Am
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Lucky Us

I remember the instantaneous excitement I felt when the girls came home from school and enthusiastically reported that Anna got a part in the play.  As someone who did my own share of performances in junior high and high school, I was thrilled to see her so excited to experience the unique kind of magic that being part of a cast and a show produces. This was her first year with a role, a costume, and a solo.  I wanted to be with her for all of it and to celebrate it all.  When mapping out the rehearsal and performance
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Beautiful Still

By the time I was sixteen I knew I was a one man woman. I fell in love with the long-haired guitar playing hippie and remained madly so until I was half way through college. A serial monogamist, I love being coupled. Being coupled means an ever present partner for the small joys that fill me up. Someone to make a spinach frittata for or to bring me a cup of coffee just the way I like it. A fellow traveler strolling from the arugula stand to the flower stall at the farmer’s market.  The one who relaxes reading nearby
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Why Wait

“I just want it over,” he said. I remember he’d been insistent he get the earliest available appointment. When asked whether he had been referred to a specific attorney he said, “Yes. But just get me in. I need someone now.” There were no allegations of intimate partner abuse, of bank accounts being emptied or credit cards being maxed out. No dispute about who would remain in the marital home. No children. Unlike most who consult about divorce, Jason wasn’t interested in sharing his story of his fifteen year marriage or why its end appeared imminent. He’d barely taken his
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Being Dishonest

I was sneaking down the stairs to the basement to avoid both the creaky steps and detection.  I made my way to the Sam’s Club storage stash and started taking the packs of toilet paper out to hide them in a different place.  I was nervous and moving quickly.  The shame of my scheming and deceitful behavior was one thought and tear away.  I felt like a thief.  I was in my own home. To remember, let alone admit to this behavior, immediately fills me with embarrassment.  I had a choice to ignore this part of my past and pretend
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