Over the last two days here in Manhattan, Damon and I binged the new romcom series “Nobody Wants This” and it was pretty okay. Based in LA, not here, but still American AF.

Cute. Relatable. 

I am writing this blog in support of waiting for the right person and the magic that manifests when you find them.

Noah (romantic cis male lead) and Joanne (romantic cis female lead) are maybe a bit like my spunky former Monk and me. He’s calm, humble, cute, and called to spiritual and general leadership practice. She’s a small hurricane and hot mess. 

Biggest glaring difference in the narratives obviously being we are doing our best to navigate the journeys of the combination of seven kids from our previous relationships. That is a terrific, terrifying and rewarding challenge.

We are currently in the final throws of our third annual big family trip. Took the teenagers to Japan in January. Six of the seven kids joined us for a ski trip to Queenstown. This last 2024 adventure started with all four of my kids, my very difficult to understand (so I have long since stopped trying) ex-husband Steve, and my stepson River. 

There are only two remaining children here in NYC. Stephanie and River. They are both much happier having their third amigo Daniel (my oldest kid) in the mix, and are clearly missing his calming and quirky vibe. We all are.

Steph had a tummy bug a couple of days ago but is on the mend and River has been a great sport. He remains undeniably a 15 year old boy. 15 year old boys are shuffly, snuffly, filled to the eyeballs with testosterone, and generally live on a completely different frequency to tired but content middle aged witches such as myself. 

Yet we get along most of the time. We all Love and respect one another, and all three of my step kids are actively grateful for the happiness I bring to their father. He is a pretty happy guy and really finds me a joy to be around. Who the fuck knows how or why that is the case, but we do have a great time together. 

The close quarters over the past couple of weeks have probably now worn on the last communal nerve however. 

That’s to be expected. And we have separate rooms on separate floors here in Manhattan so are all given the space to rest and there’s a lovely dinner with some of our fave New Yorkers in the West Village tonight. 

It is clear we have grown and had some amazing moments. One day they might even realise what a huge fucking effort it is to get something like this to happen. And if the Oracle is particularly kind, perhaps they will even appreciate those efforts one day. We live in hope.

None of this is what I want to talk about.

I want to talk, again… I know, about my beautiful and doting wife Damon. 

Watching this romcom about a couple in their 40’s finding happiness was a lovely little chance to reflect on our journey.

It has been over five years “off the apps” which seems so strange, as it’s been mostly a smooth ride, despite the occasional bump. 

Damon was never for a single second on any of the apps. He is not built that way, nor would he need to as he was considered a rather eligible bachelor in the months before we hooked up. 

Over two years we’ve been blissfully married, monogamous and meandering the planet together. We are basically and continuously joined at the hip. Neither of us knew we’d be quite so content in such an arrangement.

So the final episode of the season – spoiler alert – left the happy new couple briefly breaking up because Noah was going to be the big cheese Rabi and Joanne wasn’t ready to convert to Judaism. 

Queue contemplative moment looking over at my man (who is SUCH a snack, I just gotta remind everyone how beautiful this fella is, face, baby blue eyes, luscious curly locks, body and MOST importantly his shining, brave and abundant soul) and thinking how far we have both come and what we sacrificed to be living the life we do.

We found each other at low points in both of our lives. I was fairly fresh out of a serious nervous break-down and he was healing and rebuilding himself across many facets of his journey.

We moved in together and started traveling at a mind-boggling pace. There was little to no fucking around and he was not for a single moment in the maybe camp, but always a resounding “HELL YES” when it came to me and our relationship.

I just, generally, couldn’t believe my luck. And yes, I did absolutely do the Dee thing at the start and try my very best to sabotage the situation as soon as it seemed it might actually work. Luckily he saw through my dipshittery and trauma and hung in there.

Covid locked us down at our farm together, and that farm has become our business and a bane and blessing to both our bank account (which is shared, I must do a blog on that one day) and our overall happiness. 

We love that farm. 

It is unrecognizable from the weed infested fuckery it was when my ex was making decisions for the property. The farm was the only thing I demanded in my divorce. Other assets were split down the middle without any fuss, but the ex and his mother kept hold of a property portfolio that is actually huge. Never was there a single fuck given by me on that front. 

We were even going to move into the family home and fix it up and pay market rates to rent it knowing the kids (Adam in particular) wanted to keep the place. 

That absolutely did not happen and I am eternally grateful it didn’t. Funny how stressful moments can in hindsight clearly be blessings. We were poised with boxes on moving day when the ex-husband phoned out of the blue and announced his new missus wasn’t having it.  

Dumbass forgot to talk to her about it. Not cool. Not a surprise either, but seriously disrespectful to her and to us. Que sera sera.

So we were homeless for a few weeks with all our shit in storage. I was very confused and angry, but am now chuffed that I didn’t end up trying once again, in an infinite stream of attempts to help out my ungrateful ex. That is a hiding to nowhere. He will never appreciate anything. We get it, we move on.

Wanting the farm and nothing else, and not fighting for the much more valuable family home was one of the many excellent decisions I have made for myself since my brain and self was re-set.

I said to Damon this morning, that I appreciated all he sacrificed. He sold his house and we spent a few fabulous months managing getting it to market together. That meant he came to our marriage solvent and supportive. He also agreed to leave his CEO role at a lovely NGO. He took huge risks and stepped in as acting CEO for 6 months at one of my companies ChargeNet. He was a calm and steady hand and was kicked to the curb without so much as a thank you after his internment. Not a single fuck given by either of us on that subject either. People suck, it’s cool I am basically immune at this point.

I think, the secret sauce to my bountiful happiness these days has a lot to do with letting people and shit go. These days I step forward into what is next without overthinking or wasting good give-a-fuck-energy.

Damon wrapping up as CEO at ChargeNet was a special time for us. His job was stressful and as soon as he was replaced by a competent woman, we were able to focus on the farm, and more importantly ourselves and our marriage. 

As he started dating me basically at rock bottom and held me up and accountable through my divorce and recovery, I did not feel like the one who had to make too many sacrifices coming into this.

He corrected that thought process by reminding me I completely turned my back on “an active social life”. 

That translates to my slut-faming phase. 

I was also still, at that point, surrounded by some large number of people who would not cross a road to piss on me if I were on fire. But yes. When we started out, I thought I was a big independent bad-ass who needed to not have her wings clipped. 

This was an arrangement he originally considered, but the fact is, our boy Damon does not share. No way, no how, with no-one. He is a penguin through and through. Only has eyes for Dianna, and boundaries around that are clear and observable in every aspect of our relationship. 

I can chat once in a blue moon with a fun or interesting ex, and he knows about that. It’ll just be for a check-in or cheerful congratulations message, but it is rare that I bother. He just maintains a cool and respectful distance from anyone that was or wanted to be romantically involved with him. 

Worth mentioning that I am a big fan of his first wife. She is a walking contradiction, a great beauty, and fierce goddess. We are not designed to be friends as we have deeply different personalities, passions, goals, and interests. I definitely think you could say I am a fan though. She’s a stunning and fascinating woman. Damon and her are pretty low drama and they both clearly Love their kids. I do too. They are incredible people and make me very proud.

So I will wrap up there as I have blathered on enough. And, as the title says, I do NOT care to jinx this incredible soft, safe, squishy and satisfying marriage of ours. We fought our own battles to become the people we are today, and our nervous systems are clearly grateful for the ongoing reflection and efforts toward healing and gratitude.

But what’s my take home message? Well a number of our friends who have left or had disappointing relationships and marriages come to an end say that Damon and my relationship gives them cause for hope that the next time around can be better, that it is possible to find a more rewarding and loving relationship in our more mature years. We often joke that that is a huge amount of pressure for us!

Whilst we may not have the definite explanation of our apparent success (at least to date), and we do know in the grand scheme our relationship is still in its relative infancy, we can say honestly that we do take the job of not taking one another for granted very seriously. I think that is a key reason why things have gotten better and better with each day that passes rather than is so often the case getting worse. We tend to focus on what would make the other person happy and delight in delighting each other.

That’s some good tonic right there. How many people in relationships do you know that can genuinely say that? I’ll warrant it’s not many, but you know what, I can almost guarantee that the relationships where the parties involved ARE able to say that will be the most happy ones and will have the greatest chance of surviving. 

Thanks for reading.