And There Were 10!

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What the hell happened? How did I get to the sweet (not ripe) age of sixty-three and have ten…count them…ten…divorces under my belt? Hell, that’s more than Elizabeth Taylor! I spent my life protecting that number. I never wanted anyone to know the truth because people judge, and I had been judged enough in this life so far. I literally could count on two hands how many people on this earth knew the truth, and four of those were my children. If you were married twice, it seemed okay, if you were married three or more times, eyebrows raised and opinions were formed. So if anyone asked me if I’d been married more than three times, I would very seriously look at them and very directly say, If I tell you, I have to kill you. Do you really want to know? The subject would then get dropped.

But in my defense…no one ever goes to the altar with divorce in mind! Or at least I never did. I was just looking for that marriage filled with love, respect, trust, chemistry, longevity, and something that didn’t look like my mother’s marriage. Let me take you on my journey, but first, buckle up, this will be a wild ride!