In 12-step confessional style, this is what love addiction did to my life: I dropped out of college, quit my job, stopped talking to my family and friends and contemplated suicide.
An unmarried Jewish woman makes an offering to Santa Rita in a Roman Catholic cathedral in Italy.
I couldn't let my parents arrange my Indian marriage from Indiana. I would have to find my own suitable boy. Or perhaps even an unsuitable one.
I was the girl with a framed photo of Gloria Steinem on her bedroom wall, beside a photo of a young Frank Sinatra.
I HAD a cowboy once. It wasn't like Ennis and Jack, more like Roy and Dale. But it was still hard for me to quit him. One Christmas, years ago, when I was living in Los Angeles, I took my children and the man I was planning to marry on a vacation to a dud
My daughter was a Beatles fan by the time she was five, and she had already fallen for John.
My mother’s madness seeped in so quietly that my father was able to ignore it, believing that it would get better on its own.
There was no guarantee an open adoption would get us a baby any faster than a closed or foreign adoption, but we decided to try to do it anyway.
I KNOW I'm not the only woman who waits for something. Some of you are waiting for the phone to ring, or for him to kiss you, or propose, or come home. I just have my thumb out, and I never have to wait long. Though I know I cede my power the minute I get
I MET Krista after an abrupt breakup with a live-in boyfriend. I needed a new place to live, and responding to an ad, I found refuge in what felt like the Brooklyn Annex for Aging Spinsters, an apartment of three women between 33 and 40, nursing various s