True Love Returns In My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2

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Fourteen long years ago, Greek Canadian actress Nia Vardalos had a surprise hit with a sweet and harmless comedy. My Big Fat Greek Wedding plundered Ms Vardalos’ ethnic heritage for broad and affectionate stereotypes, and co-starred John Corbett as an Anglo-Saxon suitor who gets a nasty shock when he meets his fiancée’s loud and histrionic family. With the support of producers Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson (who  helped make Vardolas’ one-woman show into a feature film), the film defied expectations and became one of the highest-grossing comedies of all time. Made for a song, it earned more than $350 million, but a subsequent TV show flogged the idea to death and that, it seemed, was that.

However, the spirit of the Greeks is resilient.  Vardalos returns as the star and the writer of My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2.  Her character Toula has been happily married to Ian (Corbett) for nearly two decades. Their daughter Paris (Elena Kampouris) is close to going to college and for much of the film, she’s torn between studying at Northwestern near where the family lives in Chicago and moving to New York City to become a student at New York University. Like the original film, the plot’s twists and turns are seldom surprising but it’s the cast and the characters here who keep the story entertaining. Most of the characters aren’t new (other than Paris– who briefly appeared as a child in the original– there are few new characters to speak of) but there’s a comfort and a wacky sense of fun that appears whenever this cast comes together.

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While the reviews for this sequel have been a bit mixed, there is of course a sweet humor and charm that is meant for everyone to enjoy. Why did it take 14 years to follow up the top-grossing romantic comedy of all time? “That completely my fault,” says Vardalos. In fact, the reason behind the delay is intensely personal. At the end of the first movie, Vardalos had written that her character had become a mother. But her real lifed did not stay on script. She and her real life husband had tried for years to have a child of their own, but to no avail. She couldn’t bring herself to write a film in which she was a mother. “I wouldn’t know the emotions of what to write. I just said, I can’t do it.”

But Vardalos never gave up hope of becoming a mother. In 2008, after more than nine years of struggling to become parents, Vardalos and her husband were told they’d been matched up with a beautiful 3 year old girl. “The road to my becoming a mother was long and sad,” says Vardalos. “But now that I am one, I am so grateful. I can’t imagine my life without her.”

My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 is now playing in theaters nationwide. Watch the trailer here:

3 Beautiful Love Poems For All Your Romantic Moods

From the archives of True Love Magazine, here are some beautiful poems that were submitted by readers.

Was It Real To You?

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When you close your eyes to
sleep tonight,
Will you think of me?
Or will your arms reach out
to pull her close,
And your thoughts just let me be?

Will I just be a memory
Of a night from long ago?
A love affair you carried out
When your spirits were feeling low?

Were the words you spoke
Words that you meant–
Or words you already
Choose to forget?

–Deborah Harper

 

Good Mornings

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Those early mornings when I wake,
And see you lying there;
My heart is filled with gladness,
As I gently stroke your hair.

I like to be beside you,
And kiss you till you wake;
Wrap my love around you,
While I wait for dawn to break.

Then happily I trace your lips–
It helps me pass the time–
Until you slowly come to life,
And once again, you’re mine.

–Pat Poehler

 

Why You Love This Man

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How do you not love a man
Who has given you everything in life?

The inspiration to do and be
All that you are capable of.

The friendship to share and enjoy
The wonders of life.

The support to hold you afloat
When life seems to pull you down.

The compliments that make you feel
You are the most beautiful woman.

The love that makes you glow
Like you swallowed the stars.

Why do you love this man?
Because you cannot help it.

–Betty Hunter

Name Your Ex After a Cockroach?

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By Cassie Ciopryna 

Valentine’s Day has come and gone . . . again. Still single? No worries! You can still enjoy the gift of giving . . . along with the joy of revenge.

The Bronx Zoo has brought back its sixth annual “Name a Roach” campaign, which lets you name a Madagascar hissing cockroach “for your sweetie,” or as we’d rather, after your “ex-not-so-sweetie.” Really though, who would actually appreciate someone naming a cockroach after them?

For the low price of $10, they will send your (ex) loved one a digital certificate featuring the name of their special Valentine’s roach. Throw in an extra $15 and you can send a printed certificate along with some chocolates from the Nunu Chocolate Company in Brooklyn, NY.

As the Bronx Zoo states on their website, “your donation will also help us protect these misunderstood love bugs, along with a lot of other animals, both big and small.” So not only are you getting personal revenge on your ex—you’re also helping animals at the same time. What can be better? Besides the option to send the roach certificate to your ex and keep the chocolates for yourself.

If making a cockroach forever live with the name of your terrible ex isn’t something you want to do, don’t forget that you can still rely on one of these amazing go-to’s we’ve examined before such as sending them a bag of dicks, glitter-bombing, or chocolate buttholes.

(From Never Liked It Anyway, the number one destination for all things break-ups and bounce-back! It’s the place to buy, sell and tell all things ex! Sell your breakup baggage, tell your story and join the community of rock stars bouncing back better than ever! )

LOVE May Be The Next Big Netflix Show

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Episode to episode, there’s plenty to like about Love, Netflix’s new Judd Apatow–produced, Gillian Jacobs–led quasi-rom-com. The romantic comedy (premiering today on the streaming service, and not to be confused with the 3-D Gaspar Noe movie of the same name) is a savagely honest, frequently hilarious story about two thirty something screw-ups who use each other to fix themselves. If anything, the title often feels like a joke at the expense of its characters, whose deranged courtship reveals the maddening isolation of modern life in Los Angeles.

Mickey, played by the truly luminous Gillian Jacobs, is an alcoholic and all that entails amid the Echo Park singles scene (i.e. she makes a fool of herself at parties and has sex with many men, some of whom she treats badly). During a wholly expositional and overly wrought first episode we meet Mickey, whose job as producer of a radio self-help program works in eye-rolling contrast to her self-destructive personal life, and Gus (star/co-creator Adam Rust), an on-set tutor, passive narcissist and self-defined “nice guy” who can’t understand why his girlfriend has cheated on him.

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The rest of the episodes documents their courtship as a series of missteps, miscues and occasional moments of tremendous illumination (the Magic Castle episode is terrific on every level). With many Echo Park locations used as both exterior and interior, Los Angeles hasn’t looked this real since “Transparent” went to the Warehouse in Marina del Rey for drinks.

Unfolding like a five-hour Judd Apatow movie, the series has the time and patience to let us watch Gus and Mickey take two steps forward and one step back as they repeatedly crash into each other. “I think it feels like it moves more at the pace of real life,” Jacobs argues. “The show has enough time to have periods of confusion, misconnections, awkwardness — it just seems like dating is getting more complicated, and relationships don’t actually develop in a clean 90-minute arc in real life.”

Watch the Trailer Here:

Mother Knows Best

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From The How I Know I’m In Love Series

My story is not a fairy tale romance. I had my fair share of dates growing up, but I always seemed to pick losers of one type or another. Eventually, all of my friends got married and started their families. I was always included in their outings, but I felt like a third wheel, and some of them were even a little afraid of having a single woman near their husbands. I was stuck in a rut and I knew that my biological clock was ticking away quickly. In my twenties, I was told that because of numerous back operations, it wasn’t likely that I would be able to carry a child to term, so I stopped looking for a husband and resigned myself to growing old—alone. Boy, was I wrong!

It was 1984. I was thirty-six years old and single, with no kids, no siblings, and no steady boyfriend. My mother was in the hospital, dying of cancer. I went to visit her just before she fell into a coma and an old friend of ours was there visiting her, but he left when I arrived. During our visit, my mother said to me, “That man loves you, and I would be more than proud to have him as a son-in-law. I know that he could never hurt you, and I could die knowing that he was there for you.” Well, he was like an older brother to me and I had no romantic notions about him. Plus, he was a married man. I told my mother this, and her reply was, “He is not happy!” He had always felt close to my mother, and he had told her that he had been pressured into marriage to a woman who he had never loved and was getting a divorce. That was one of the last conversations my mother and I were able to have before she lapsed into the coma and passed from my life.

Well, I always did what my mother told me to do! She was rarely wrong. She was a very smart, intelligent, and loving woman, who would give the shirt off her back or her last penny to help someone in need. Plus, she was also my very best friend. At the time, I was lonely, afraid, and sad about her impending death, so ten months after she passed away, I married the man my mother had picked out for me. I married my best friend, but I didn’t love him at the time. I was always waiting for my toes to curl and my heart to skip a beat when he touched me or was nearby, but it never happened. We were together because we had a lot in common, and were both lonely and hurting.

Now, almost twenty years have passed and we are still together—and in love with each other. Now, my heart does skip a beat when he comes near me and my toes do curl when he kisses me. I’ve realized that a person does not need instant fireworks to have love. Love takes time, commitment, caring, and experience. I guess my mother really did know what was best for me!

—Bev Stephens, Alberta, Canada

How did you know this crazy, wonderful feeling was the real thing? Share your experience with others! Email your story, in 700 words or less, along with your contact info, to trulovebooks@gmail.com and type, How I Know I’m In Love, in the subject line. 

Are You Really Ready for Love?

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By Mary Cope

You’ve mourned, moved on and let go of the baggage from your past relationships. You are prepared for love. You are emotionally ready to give and receive love. You want love…

But, are you truly ready?

Relationships take commitment, focus and time but before you think you are ready, ask yourself these three questions.

1. Do you love yourself?

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It’s easy to quickly answer, “Yes, I love myself,” but do you? Are you happy in your own skin? Are you content being by yourself or do you constantly need someone to talk to or entertain you?

You are responsible for your own happiness. When you are truly happy with the person you are and love yourself, it is then that you are ready for the possibility of love. You can’t truly love someone until you love yourself first. Opening yourself up to the possibility of a relationship begins when you have the self-confidence of a loving relationship with yourself.

2. Are you looking for someone to complete you?

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The three little words Tom Cruise spouted off to Renee Zellweger in the 1996 movie, Jerry Maguire, “You complete me,” may have had worked on the big screen but in the real world looking for someone to complete you is too much pressure for anyone. It is not anyone’s job to complete you or vice versa.

Rather than looking for someone to complete you, you should be looking for someone who adds to your life and in return you add to theirs.

3. Can you settle for imperfection?

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In the beginning of a relationship everyone puts their best self forward, they always appear perfect but the reality is, this person, who seems to have no flaws will eventually show their shortcomings. Are you prepared to let go of the myth of perfection? Can you accept this person for who they are?

Our quirks and imperfections make us human, if you can let go of looking for perfection you may then open yourself up to the possibility of a meaningful relationship.

People are drawn to those who are confident and happy within themselves. Be that person and remember being ready for love begins with you.

 
Mary Cope AuthorAbout Mary Cope

Mary Cope is a first time author with Astraea Press. Her book, Beautiful One, is the first in a planned trilogy. She is currently writing the sequel, Beautiful Mess.
Mary enjoys spending time with her family, baking, listening to music and taking long walks with her yellow lab, Maggie.

Website:
http://marycopeauthor.com

Twitter:
https://twitter.com/MaryCope_Author

Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mary-Cope/260006794162636

6 Steps to Moving On After a Breakup

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By Annabel Acton

Breakups. It’s not wholly surprising that the word break is in there. Broken hearts, broken trust, broken vases . . . it’s not a state you want to be in for long. As founder of Never Liked It Anyway — an online place to sell all that stuff you’re left with when a relationship ends — I’ve come across a few tactics for moving on . . . for better or worse. Some are smart, some are silly, and some are very effective. Here are some of the best I’ve come across so far:

1. Cut It Like It’s Hot

Now’s the time to preen it like you mean it! You don’t have to fall into the cliché boy-crop thing, but reinvesting a little extra love, time, and energy into your appearance (read: confidence) can help turn things around superfast. Try bangs. It will transform your look, and if you hate it, they’ll be gone (or at least pin-backable) in a month. At which point, you’ll probably be rocking your mojo again anyway.

2. Overwriting

This little technique involves going back to all the places you had special times with your ex and making even more fun memories with your friends. This cannot be done in halves. If you choose overwriting, go hard or go home.

3. Going, Going, Gone!

Think about it, why would you wear a necklace your ex bought you around your neck? Or stare at a painting you bought together at that cute art fair? Both psychologists and feng-shui experts agree that exorcising those bad reminders helps make space for new possibilities. Start with things you know you’ll never wear again — like jewelry — then move on to other things that just don’t fit with your new life.

4. Try Something New — Day Time

If you try to lead your exact same life, minus your lover, then of course all you’ll notice is a gaping hole. So now’s the time to try new things. Preferably social things. There’s the obvious choices like wine clubs or baseball teams, but why not surprise yourself and get a little whacky. Brooklyn Brainery is full of the unusual, like . . .

5. Try Something New — Night Time

A wise woman once said: “The best way to get over one man is to get under another.” You don’t have to go on a rampage or channel your inner Annabel Chong, but getting back on the horse (so to speak) is the best reminder that your ex wasn’t your one shot at happiness. Good, bad, or ugly, it will feel different to what you’re used to. But different is good, and at the very least, it’s progress.

6. I’m Sorry, Who?

Perhaps a little harsh, but seeing your ex’s Facebook feed is a handwritten invitation to the normally invisible crazy part of you to come out and twerk. It’s kind of like having a free donut table at fat camp. Disaster is inevitable. Until Facebook introduces a “de-friend for a while” option, it’s best to just cut that cord and protect your sanity.

Annabel Acton BIO

Annabel Acton is the founder of Never Liked It Anyway — a place to buy, sell and tell all things ex (as in exes) so you feel better faster. Going strong since 2012, it’s a fun, pro-active and positive way to move on from those dreaded breakups we all go through. Annabel is a creative strategist, entrepreneur, innovator and globe trotter. With her Never Liked It Anyway project, she’s committed to finding new and exciting ways to help people get back to fabulous.

 

What Your Husband Does On A Business Trip

hotelHe may not be quite as innocent as he seems!

The flight attendant glided down the aisle, taking drink orders. “Would your wife care for a beverage?” she queried, referring to my seat companion, who was dozing.

“I don’t really know,” I responded. I didn’t correct the stewardess’s incorrect presumption of our marital status. She could be forgiven for not realizing that we were traveling from continent to continent hardly knowing one another. The truth was, I had met Britney only six days before.

I was the director of marketing for one of our country’s largest conglomerates. We had chosen to expand into the cosmetic industry, and we had made a provisional deal to acquire a noted brand name. It was privately owned, available for purchase, and we had leaped at the opportunity. We were entering the final twenty days of our due diligence examination of their company to assure ourselves that there were no unpleasant surprises. Their finances looked solid, and their U.S. operation was fine. I just needed to spend two weeks in Japan, their second-largest market, to ascertain that all was satisfactory there.

Although I was perfectly capable of evaluating the company’s marketing and advertising, I  had no competency in judging the quality of their product line. Certainly, there was no one within the conglomerate with that kind of knowledge. It had not been easy to find someone with the cosmetic product expertise who could fly to Japan with me for a couple of weeks.

However, fortuitously, the beauty editor of an international fashion magazine had recently announced her retirement. The publisher had brought in an experienced editor to fill the vacancy, causing Britney, the young, talented associate beauty editor, to resign her position. The timing was perfect for me. Britney was fully knowledgeable about cosmetic and skincare products, and she was available for my two-week assignment.

When I had interviewed Britney the week before, it’d seemed to be an easy decision for each of us. I required her expertise, and she appeared to be interested in the well-paying project. Only at the end of the interview had there been any complication.

“The assignment sounds fascinating.” She had hesitated a moment, and then added, “Do I understand that you and I would be traveling together to Tokyo for two weeks?” She was pleasant, but wary. “Alone?”

I nodded. “Yes. Would that be a problem?”

“I want you to know that I’m engaged,” she said earnestly.

“Well, that makes us even. I’m married, with two darling little daughters.” It was technically correct, although my wife and I had been experiencing major marital problems, and we were planning to separate upon my return from Japan. Still, I figured that I had better not mention any of that if I wanted Britney to accept the assignment. “Britney, please don’t worry. We have an important job to do here. This trip is all about business, and nothing more.”

She paused. “I would like to discuss it with my fiancé. May I give you a final answer tomorrow?”

I agreed.

The following morning, she had accepted. Over the next couple of days, I made arrangements and booked appointments in Japan. Now, we were in the sky, taking the long flight from New York to Tokyo.

“I’d love a Diet Coke,” the sleepy voice next to me spoke. I had ordered a scotch, and we spent the next couple of hours getting to know each other.

Britney had graduated from Vassar with a major in art history. During the ten years since college, she’d worked in product development and product management, first at Estee Lauder, and then at Revlon before joining the magazine staff. She had not traveled since her junior year in college, which she’d spent in Florence, Italy. The opportunity to see Japan was tremendously exciting for her, she told me.

I was incredulous. This extremely attractive, fashionable New Yorker had not traveled at all during the past ten years. She shopped at Bergdorf’s and Henri Bendel, was familiar with the finest restaurants of Manhattan, and knew the city’s museums and galleries intimately. And yet, she really had very little exposure to the world.

“Why have you chosen to stay so close to home?” I asked her.

“Damon doesn’t really enjoy traveling.”

“Damon is your fiancé, I assume? How long have you two been together?”

“We’ve been engaged for eight years.”

I had never heard of an eight-year engagement. I tried not to let my astonishment show. “How does that happen? Do you live together?” I asked gingerly.

“We see each other on weekends. Damon’s a brilliant oncologist. He doesn’t want to get married until he’s fully established. What about you?”

I told her about my career, in which I’d alternated between the advertising agency world and client-side employment at marketing-oriented companies. I was only a few years older than she was, but I’d been married for ten years. Now, the marriage was ending, but I didn’t mention that  to Britney. I showed her photographs of my two daughters.

“What’s your wife like?”

I described my wife, a lovely lady, a marvelous mother, and an avid and talented teacher in the suburbs. I commuted from our home in Westchester to work in New York City. I avoided telling Britney about how my wife and I had grown apart. Somehow, I felt that that would have seemed to contradict my original conversation with her. At any rate, perhaps she sensed my marital problems.

“I think loyalty is the most important thing between a man and a woman,” Britney said.

“More important than love?”

“Perhaps.”

“I suspect you would add patience and perseverance to your attribute list,” I rejoined, referring to her lengthy engagement.

She laughed. “Touché.”

By the time we landed in Tokyo, we’d discussed our upcoming schedules for the next two weeks. Britney would be visiting the cosmetic company’s Japanese manufacturing operation; she would be conducting store checks at the retailers that stocked their products; and she would be interviewing Japanese consumers to the extent that language permitted. I would be spending my time at the company’s offices, and at their distributors and advertising agencies. We would each have full schedules.

Our plane touched down at Narita Airport. Britney and I were tired, well-fed, and now good friends. The cosmetics company had sent two people to collect us and our bags, and to escort us to our hotel. For the first time, it occurred to me how much they were determined that I enjoy this trip; the acquisition was very important to them.

We checked into the Hotel Okura. As I signed the registration form for our two rooms, the man behind the counter glanced quickly at Britney, then turned to me and said in a soft-spoken, dignified manner, “Perhaps you would prefer a larger, double room, sir.”

I may have hesitated imperceptibly, but I remembered well what I had committed to Britney at our very first meeting. “No, thank you. Separate rooms, please.”

Our rooms were next to one another. We each unpacked, showered, changed, and then met  to explore the hotel. This would be our home for the next two weeks, and we walked a bit outside to get some fresh air and to become oriented to the Roppongi district in which the hotel was located. It wasn’t until we returned to our rooms that we discovered that there was a connecting door between them.

“I thought that registration clerk had a gleam in his eye,” Britney mused. By now, we were comfortable enough with one another to laugh at that unintended feature of our accommodations.

Exhausted, we were ready for sleep. We had appointments the next morning, Britney at the company’s manufacturing facility, and I at their business offices. So we made arrangements to have an early room service breakfast in my room, and then I wished her good night at her door.

“You could stay with me tonight, if you’d like,” I said, jokingly.

“This trip is all about business,” she reminded me. We shared a friendly hug.

At breakfast the next morning, we made plans to meet for dinner that night. Then we caught taxis for our respective destinations.

During the next few days, I had one meeting after another. As was typical of so many international companies in Japan, Japanese executives filled the cosmetics company’s senior positions, and the middle-management people were generally Americans. I spent time with each of them. I met also with the owners of the five distributor firms that were responsible for selling the company’s products in Japan. This particular company is truly an anomaly in Japan, since it is one of only a few U.S. companies that were introduced into the country prior to World War II. As a result, it is a fixture in Japanese culture, more similar to Japanese beauty brands, such as Shiseido and Kao, than to more recent American arrivals, such as Revlon.

Britney was fully occupied, as well. She spent her days talking to the production people, observing the manufacturing process, and reviewing samples of the company’s products, as well as those of their competitors.

There was one major unforeseen circumstance. Each of the company executives expected to entertain me during my stay. In their male-oriented business society, that meant that I was required to spend every night socializing with men without their wives. When I once suggested that Britney join us, the social rules of the Japanese business environment were explained to me: Britney was no welcomer than were my hosts’ wives.

To adjust to this situation, I developed an unusual schedule for each day. Britney and I would begin the mornings with room service breakfast in my room. Then we would depart for our business agendas. She and I would reconvene in the early evenings and have dinner together in one of the Roppongi restaurants. I would usually begin with a scotch, and Britney, always the nondrinker, would order a Coca Cola. We would share stories from our respective workdays over robatayaki or kaiseki or sushi, finishing with the omnipresent green-tea ice cream. We always ended with her admonition to me to behave myself in the wicked city, as I kissed her good night at the door of her hotel room.

man massagecropI wasn’t pleased about indulging in two dinners each day, but I had little choice. Britney needed to be fed, and I couldn’t insult my Japanese hosts by declining their invitations. After leaving Britney, I would proceed to the lobby, meet my evening’s host, and begin that night’s socializing. We would inevitably dine at a fancy restaurant and follow with the customary drinking at a hostess bar, or, one time, at a fabled geisha bar. After a particularly heavy round of drinking one night, I was taken to a sento, a public bath, for what my host assured me was the perfect antidote to any potential hangover—a bath administered by an attractive young lady, culminating in her blow-drying and styling my hair while I was still in the tub!

woman hotelEach morning, I would describe the previous night’s activities to Britney over breakfast. She usually entered my room through the interior door, and most often, her breakfast attire was the hotel-supplied, white, terrycloth robe, wrapped tightly around her. Our relationship had evolved to the point where seeing one another at breakfast and dinner was the best part of our days. However, the ground rules had been established, and morning and evening hugs and kisses were the extent of our physical relationship.

At the end of the first week, I had planned a surprise for Britney. Since we had no business scheduled over the weekend, I had arranged a three-day sightseeing trip. Late Friday afternoon, we boarded the bullet train from Tokyo to Kyoto. The train rushed through the Japanese countryside, allowing us a glimpse of majestic Mt. Fuji in the distance.

Britney was thrilled by the train trip. She had enjoyed Tokyo, despite the obligatory early endings to her evenings. Now, she was traveling through Japan to Kyoto, the country’s greatest treasure.

“This is extraordinary; I’ve never known anything like it, you know,” Britney said as we pulled into the Shin-Osaka station, a twenty-minute taxi ride from Kyoto.

“I’m glad.” I’d been feeling guilty all week about my socializing while she was confined to her hotel room. I wanted desperately to please this lovely, attractive woman.

As the taxi arrived at our hotel, I turned to Britney. “I suppose you would like us to have separate rooms here, too.” I had booked two rooms, but I had not mentioned that to her.

Her voice was soft. “I really think we should. It’s what loyalty and commitment are all about.”

japanese gardensFor the next three days, we filled every available hour with viewing the attractions of the area: the stunning Kiyomizu and Heian Shrines, the glorious Kinkakuji and Ryoanji Temples, Kyoto’s Imperial Palace, the Nijo Castle, and a side trip to Nara, where we strolled through Nara Park and fed the deer. During the evenings, we dined leisurely, free from our weekday constraints of early, rushed dinners. We had experienced Kyoto’s beautiful sights, breathtaking architecture and gardens, and absorbed so much Japanese history, culture, and tradition.

Our train carried us back to Tokyo late Monday afternoon. “I never thought I would love a place as much as I loved Florence,” Britney said. She sipped her Coca Cola and turned to me. “You really know how to make a lady happy.”

“It’s not me; it’s the Coke,” I teased. I was feeling pretty pleased, too.

We had four more days of intensive work in Tokyo. Britney spent much of her time in the city’s enormous department stores: Isetan, Matsuya, Tobu, and Seibu. She interviewed the incredibly polite women and girls who were customers in the stores about their opinions of the cosmetic company’s cosmetic and skincare products. I visited the company’s advertising agencies. I met also with the people at the research and retail audit company, to confirm the company’s market share.

By the following Friday, we had completed our work. It had been an intense and thorough analysis. At the end of the day, Britney and I said our final farewells to our respective company contacts, as the hotel’s secretarial staff typed up Britney’s report to me.

On Saturday, I packed my things, including the silk kimonos I had purchased for my wife and daughters. Britney and I taxied to the airport, boarded our plane, and flew toward home.

Seated on the plane, we discussed our enthusiasm for the company’s Japanese operation. There could be no doubt that it would be a valuable part of the conglomerate. For some reason, the flight of more than twelve hours seemed particularly short upon our return. Perhaps it was our gaining the extra day; flying over, we had lost a day to the International Date Line, and now, we were given it back. More likely, though, it was the ease with which Britney and I related. This woman, to whom I’d been so attracted for two weeks, was now my friend. She had not only done an outstanding job on the business assignment, but she’d taught me so much about loyalty and commitment. Indeed, I realized, suddenly, that I would give my marriage another fervent try.

I reached into my briefcase and extracted the souvenir I’d intended for Britney. I gave her the Coke bottle I’d been carrying; it was covered with Japanese characters.

“Just one of a hundred you emptied,” I told her, grinning.

As we landed, she handed me a wrapped gift. After unwrapping it, I found an art book entitled: Japanese Erotic Prints Through The Centuries. The enclosed card was inscribed to me: The one area NOT covered on this trip!

Britney touched my arm. “Thank you for the experience of my life. Let me know what happens with the company.”

I assured her that I would.

I caught only a glimpse of Damon’s back at the airport before I met my wife with an embrace. That night, I told her that I thought we should give our marriage another chance. We had made a commitment to one another, I said, and we should find a way to make it work.

The middle of the next week, the president of the conglomerate, the director of finance, and I presented our purchase recommendation to the board of directors. The Board approved it, and a month later, the cosmetics company became a new division of our conglomerate.

After the Board presentation, I wandered back to my office, and, as I accessed my voicemail messages in habitual fashion, I heard the familiar voice: Britney. I listened carefully.

“It was an incredible trip. I learned so much from you—most importantly, about myself. I broke up last night with Damon, something I should’ve done long ago. I hope you call me, but, please—call only if you’re interested in a serious relationship with me.”

I took a deep breath as I looked toward the telephone. I sat for a couple of minutes. Then I headed out the door of my office and made my way to the commuter train. My wife and I were to have dinner that night, as we began our reconciliation effort.

New York is a big city, and I lost track of what happened to Britney.

That doesn’t mean I never wondered.

Taken from the September 2003 Issue of True Love Magazine

The Feng Shui of Breakups

BreakupBy Annabel Acton

Breakups are a pretty destructive force. But like any form of destruction, they leave space and opportunity to recreate, reinvent and renew. New friendships, new patterns, new experiences and new lives. I started the website neverlikeditanyway.com to help accelerate the moving on process. The website works like an eBay for breakups. You basically sell all the stuff you’re left with when a relationship ends. It was designed to be cathartic, positive and proactive — basically, everything breakups aren’t!

We have some people selling some meaningful stuff — like an engagement ring set for the reasonable breakup price of $6,000. “I thought I had found my prince charming, but it turns out he was looking for a mom not a princess.”

We also have people selling some strange stuff, like a bottle of ketchup for a grand total of $1. “I just don’t like the stuff and now that he’s gone, it’s perfectly reasonable to assume his stuff should also go.”

I had a feeling in my bones that it was a sensible idea. I mean, why would you want to hang on to souvenirs and reminders of a love lost? However, I recently had the opportunity to sit down with Dana Claudat of the Tao of Dana. She’s an inspirational expert in Feng Shui and helped explain, in a more articulate manner, why selling breakup baggage is a good idea.

Dana made a real and clear connection between our physical surroundings and our emotional state. This was the first time this had really made sense to me. She explained it simply and beautifully.

Your space is a mirror of your life. During a breakup, there is usually a period of review: “Why did this happen? How did I create (or allow!) this to happen? And the answer to that life review, more extensive than a few questions, can be found in your space.

She then went on to explain that how we dress our spaces is often a reflection of what’s going on with our lives. Whatever energy we create through our spaces, we replicate in the real world.

A person who dwells in fantasy (and fantasy relationships) often has a very airy-fairy, ethereal sense of space and may need more heavy objects and solid colors and even an area rug to create a sense of being grounded and more physically present.

Or you may find that you are living with tons of clutter in your space and you have, similarly, attracted a partner who has chaos in some ways. Clear that clutter for yourself and keep it clear. You will find far more clarity in keeping your space free of obstacles.

While this might sound a bit tricky to get your head around, if you really think about it makes sense. For most of the objects in my house, I can tell you a little story about them. Some are positive stories and reflections of who I am and where I am headed. Others are more binding, restricting and reflect a time in my life I’m happy to have moved on from. Yet they remain in my house. And therefore in my psyche.

“When you clear out the old, you stop constantly triggering yourself and sticking in this emotional energy pattern of the past,” Dana says.

Clearing out and selling these souvenirs of your old life, and your old love, feels like a necessary step towards healing and moving on. Not doing so almost seems like going swimming with clothes on. You’re just making it harder for yourself. The great thing about this way of thinking, is that it has application well beyond breakups. When you think about who you are and where you’re headed, it’s important to clear the way for what you want to grow into; not reflect a past that perhaps is weighing you down.

Annabel Acton BIO

Annabel Acton is the founder of Never Liked It Anyway — a place to buy, sell and tell all things ex (as in exes) so you feel better faster. Going strong since 2012, it’s a fun, pro-active and positive way to move on from those dreaded breakups we all go through. Annabel is a creative strategist, entrepreneur, innovator and globe trotter. With her Never Liked It Anyway project, she’s committed to finding new and exciting ways to help people get back to fabulous.

 

Who is Hannah Brencher?

hannah brencherSimply put, Hannah Brencher is a writer. To get a bit more complex, Hannah Brencher is an idealist, a romantic, an inspiration to thousands and a throwback to the days when the written word actually meant something.

In October of 2010, she began writing love letters intended for strangers and tucking them away in libraries and cafes across New York City, for people to randomly discover. Soon, she offered on her blog HannahBrencher.com to write a letter to anyone who needed one. Over the next year, she mailed out more than 400 hand-penned letters. Today she runs The World Needs More Love Letters, a global love letter writing organization that harnesses the power behind social media to write and mail love letters to individuals across the globe. The company has spread across 6 continents and all 50 states.

‘[To] sit down, pull out a piece of paper and think about someone the whole way through … is an art form that does not fall down to the Goliath of ‘get faster.’—Hanna Brencher

Watch her TED Talk Video Below: