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Category: Love

There’s something really nice about being on the other side of fifty. You’ve seen it all and done it all (well, maybe not everything, but quite a lot) and you know that you don’t have too much tolerance (or time) for crap… your own or anyone else’s. You know what works for you, and conversely, what doesn’t. And if things fall into the “not working for you” camp, you can say without hesitation and without too much delay, I’m done. There’s a certain freedom that comes from knowing when you’re done, and calling it. It means you can walk away,

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On 31 December of each year, I do a review of the past year. I look at what I’ve learned, what went well, and what didn’t.  I revisit what I know for sure. This year it’s a little later because of, well, stuff. And by stuff I mean life and all that that entails. It has been a jam-packed year, though. Moving to Vietnam does that to a girl. From nearly dying to reinventing myself as a writer to almost falling in love, there hasn’t been a dull moment. I’ve had the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.

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Well, it appears that I did send that letter to John after all! I found this letter in my personal effects, hidden between a couple of old photos… Dear Diane, I’ve been thinking a lot about you the last few days. I was going to write you a letter sooner before your letter came today. Thank you for the letter. I’ve had a lot of good times with you too, and would like to say you’re a wonderful person with many interesting facets. The love and support I’ve felt from you over the last ten months has been greater than

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This is the 19th essay in the #26essays2017 challenge that I’ve set for myself this year. I’m doing this because I’m the first to admit I’ve become a lazy writer: allowing guest posts and series and cross-posting to make up the bulk of content on The Diane Lee Project across 2016. The brave, fearless writing that readers admired and respected me for has all but disappeared. This year—2017—will be different. I’m reclaiming my voice—my write like a motherfucker voice! I have been clearing out my belongings in preparation for my indefinite move to Vietnam and I found this letter in a bunch of old papers

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This is the 8th essay in the #26essays2017 challenge that I’ve set for myself this year. I’m doing this because I’m the first to admit I’ve become a lazy writer: allowing guest posts and series and cross-posting to make up the bulk of content on The Diane Lee Project across 2016. The brave, fearless writing that readers admired and respected me for has all but disappeared. This year—2017—will be different. I’m reclaiming my voice—my write like a motherfucker voice!  This weekend, here in Hanoi, I voided an awful sexy times encounter with a Frenchman (aka That French Fucker) that happened at the beginning of 2016. That

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This is the 6th essay in the #26essays2017 challenge that I’ve set for myself this year. I’m doing this because I’m the first to admit I’ve become a lazy writer: allowing guest posts and series and cross-posting to make up the bulk of content on The Diane Lee Project across 2016. The brave, fearless writing that readers admired and respected me for has all but disappeared. This year—2017—will be different. I’m reclaiming my voice—my write like a motherfucker voice!  Dying. Dead. Buried. Everything about him that I respected, admired, enjoyed. Gone. Killed by a single gesture that extinguished all others that preceded it. The way he

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This is the 5th essay in the #26essays2017 challenge that I’ve set for myself this year. I’m doing this because I’m the first to admit I’ve become a lazy writer: allowing guest posts and series and cross-posting to make up the bulk of content on The Diane Lee Project across 2016. The brave, fearless writing that readers admired and respected me for has all but disappeared. This year—2017—will be different. I’m reclaiming my voice—my write like a motherfucker voice!   Four weeks. Give or take a day or two. That’s how long it took. Takes. For my crush to run its course. But my crush didn’t just

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This is the 3rd essay in the #26essays2017 challenge that I’ve set for myself this year. I’m doing this because I’m the first to admit I’ve become a lazy writer: allowing guest posts and series and cross-posting to make up the bulk of content on The Diane Lee Project across 2016. The brave, fearless writing that readers admired and respected me for has all but disappeared. This year—2017—will be different. I’m reclaiming my voice—my write like a motherfucker voice!  Oh, God. Really? Another crush? Why? Can’t I be done with this shit already? I’m 53 years old, and I’ve been single for 10 years. Of

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This is a companion piece to the last post I wrote about the 10 Things I Learned From Being Single For 10 Years. Because you can’t talk about being single without discussing sex… 1. The desire for sex is always there… Sex—reproductive urges aside—is a basic human need, just like shelter, food, safety. Maslow was onto something with his hierarchy thing. Humans are sexual beings. There’s no getting away from that, even when you are single. Coupled up people will tell you that they don’t really get that much sex… well, at least not as much as when they first

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I’ve been single for 10 years. Being single isn’t at all bad, but I’ve had to come to terms with a few things to be at peace with it. I’m in the process of relaunching my ebook series. What was Love & Other Stuff will soon be republished as Love & Other Brave Acts: Essays on Courage for Fearless and Fabulous Living. I’ve researched keywords, redesigned covers and rebadged the tagline. I’ve rejigged my product descriptions. I’m also in the process of rewriting my “About this Book” section for the front matter, after ditching the foreword. The first book that

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Sunday Best is a curated list of articles I’ve read over the past week or so that I find enlightening, educational or just plain interesting. This week’s focus is on love, relationships and the dating game—all of which I’ve always struggled with. Enjoy! The mating game is changing You know how you think that it’s a man’s world when it comes to dating? Tinder, hook-ups, no commitment, few return phone calls or second dates? Turns out you were right and you weren’t imaging things, according to Psychology Today. It’s all because males are currently in short supply. Dating is a supply and

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As you know, I’ve just returned from a trip to Bali. I went there for the Write A Bestseller Retreat at Sharing Bali. I think I also mentioned in a previous post somewhere that I had never been interested in going to Bali, what with all the drunk Australians that are drawn to the island. Bali equalled Kuta equalled Bali, as far as I was concerned. I am here to tell you that Bali was one of THE best travel experiences I’ve ever had. If you have been following my escapades adventures on my travel blog, you’ll know that the

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