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We get lots of generic advice when we break up. “You’ll get through it.” “You’re better off.” “Don’t worry, you’ll find the One.” But no one ever tells us how to get through the pain, the loneliness, the emptiness. Whether the breakup is mutual, shocking, brutal, or civil, it sucks.

So what do we do? Blast “I Will Survive” until our ears bleed? When will those yucky feelings go away? I think everyone has their own progression that they go through, similar to the five stages of grief. Here’s mine:

Disbelief and Denial

After my boyfriend of two years broke up with me, I was shocked. In hindsight, it was a long time coming. During the last turbulent months of our relationship, I knew we were heading down that road. He had moved away six weeks prior—a tell-tale sign of doom. But when it actually happened… well, I was shocked. It was a Sunday morning, and he had spent the weekend with me. When he left that morning, he left for good. I was a puddle. I sat in my room for three hours, knowing that once I walked out of there, I’d have to face my roommates and tell them what happened. I wasn’t ready for it to be real.

Desperation

Six hours after the dumping, I made the tearful phone call begging Mr. Ex to take me back. Not one of my finer moments. I was a ball of desperate emotion. I needed to save us and wasn’t ready to accept all the valid reasons for the breakup.

Spite

For me, this was different than anger because I had someone to be mean to. Two weeks after the breakup, we had a wedding to attend together. For the sake of the wedding, we didn’t tell anyone about the breakup except for a few close friends. Mr. Ex and I sat next to each other during the entire ceremony and did everything possible not to touch each other. I knew it was going to be awful, so I resorted to spite. I made sure I looked amazing. Then, I left the reception early, casually letting him know that I was going dancing with a great guy I’d met. I wanted him to realize what a great catch I was and that I was no longer his.

Boing! Rebound!

I’d met the great guy right after I got dumped. He was nice and attentive, and he thought I was fabulous. Mr. Ex did not think I was fabulous. And I got to be spiteful to Mr. Ex. This way, I didn’t have to think about why we had broken up. I didn’t have to think about why Mr. Ex did not think I was fabulous. I didn’t have to think about Mr. Rebound. I was too busy spiting Mr. Ex and feeling good about myself.

Oops. After a few weeks with Mr. Rebound, I realized we did not have as much in common as we’d thought. I realized the only thing I really liked about him was that he liked me. So that ended.

Being Single

At this point, Mr. Ex and I were still on pretty hateful terms. Mutual friends were involved, and there were a myriad of details to sort after we dissolved our relationship. Therefore, he couldn’t just—”poof”—disappear from my life. Lots of phone calls and emails, all filled with hurt, anger, and tears on both sides. I was done. I couldn’t even watch a romantic comedy without thinking, “really? That seems like a lot of hassle.”

I decided it was time to take a step back. Away from boys and to spend some some with me. I needed to make plans without having to check with someone if we were free on Saturday night. I needed to feel fabulous about myself and not wait for Mr. Ex or Mr. Rebound to feel that way about me. I learned that if I didn’t feel that way about myself, Mr. Future certainly wouldn’t. I announced to myself that I didn’t want to date anyone for three months. Why three months? Well, it was the summer, and three months marked the end of the summer. What if I met someone great? Well, I wasn’t ready.

Ironically, during this period, I did actually meet Mr. Future. I thought to myself, “cute. But seems like a lot of hassle. Maybe later. Hopefully he’ll still be single.”

Introspection

This phase ran concurrently through all the other phases. It ended when I realized that I was no longer filled with anger, hurt, longing, and loneliness over the breakup. I kept busy. Busy enough to avoid depression, but not so busy that I didn’t take the time for introspection. I figured out my own culpability in the breakup and learned to be okay with it. Oh, and getting busy with Mr. Rebound didn’t count as introspection.

Resolution

The last thing I wanted was to be friends with Mr. Ex. I had spent a lot of time being angry at him. When I thought about our two years together, I was filled with bitterness and sadness. And I didn’t like that. I didn’t want my memories to be spoiled. So I had to get past my anger. I knew that we were better friends than lovers, and I didn’t want the memory of our friendship to be tainted by the ups and downs of our relationship. We never regained the friendship we had before we dated. But we became friends again.

Meeting Someone New

As luck would have it, after I reached my resolution, Mr. Future and I crossed paths again. And he was still single. I was finally ready, and all it took was me allowing the progression of the breakup to run its course.

So, to all those newly singles, perhaps that’s the best advice anyone can give: just give yourself time.

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I am just one of the hundreds of thousands of travelers stranded by Iceland’s volcano, Eyjafjallajokull, or as I like to call it, “Eyja<expletive><expletive>.” But, I am part of an even bigger fraternity. I am just one of the billions of people who have been stranded, dumped and rejected.

You may ask what these two groups have in common. Well, let’s put it this way, I have spent the last week frantically checking every internet site regarding airports, travel, airlines, volcanoes and weather. I have hit refresh on my web-browser every few minutes with the hopes that new information is available. I have sent countless emails making plans, canceling plans, rescheduling plans, and re-canceling plans. I have checked my email every half hour and updated my Facebook and Skype statuses with each bit of hopeful information. I’m an emotional basket case.

Now, let’s jump back a few years. It’s Easter Sunday, and my boyfriend of two years dumps me. I’m sitting in a puddle of my own self-pity, unable to leave my bedroom because I’ll have to tell my roommates what just happened. So, what do I do? I check my email. Maybe he’s changed his mind and written me a love letter. I check mutual social networking websites. Maybe he’s online, writing me said love letter. I check my cell phone. Maybe he called while I was sobbing in the shower and didn’t hear my phone ring. I’m an emotional basket case.

Hope. It’s one of the nastier four-letter words out there. I hope the volcano will stop burping crap into the air. I hope my ex will call. I hope the airlines won’t cancel my most recently rescheduled flight. I hope we’ll get back together.

In both cases, I’m just sitting here, waiting, because there’s that glimmer of possibility that everything could work out.

So, how does one avoid this black-hole of self-pity? Well, I’m currently eating a lot of gelato and drinking a lot of cappuccino, two things which just don’t taste the same in the United States. With the ex, I met him two weeks later at a wedding, where I made sure I looked smashing, and then let him know that I had a date later that night. It’s finding that little indulgence to make you feel better. Too much gelato, and I’ll never fit into all those cute clothes I’m bringing with me to California. Too much “take that, ex-boyfriend!” dating  and I’ll never examine my own culpability in a failed relationship. However, in moderation, both make me feel pretty good.

That being said, I still can’t completely kick the “hope” bug. When the airlines canceled today’s ticket late last night, I promptly checked my airline and airport websites when I woke up to see if the flight had been “uncanceled.” This was pretty silly on my part because I used to work in the aviation industry, and I know what a major decision it is to cancel a flight 12 hours before take-off. I know the airlines are not going to say, “oh, changed my mind, back on!” Yet, I checked anyway.

Similarly, about six months after my big break-up, I met a guy through a mutual friend and asked (my friend) for his number. “Hi! I’m Ben’s friend, Jenn.” Yes, I really said that on the phone, it’s not just a line Dr. Seuss edited from The Cat in the Hat. The first phone call was great. His schedule was up in the air, so he’d have to call me later to confirm which day we would get together.

I made sure that my cutest clothes were ready, so when he did call, I’d look amazing, but not like I was trying too hard.

Similarly, my airplane clothes sit ready for the actual flight.

Ben’s friend didn’t call for four days. In what I like to think of as an “act of self-confidence,” I called him again. My logic being maybe this week wasn’t good for him. We could arrange a specific date for next week.

Similarly, I called my airline. It didn’t look like flight restrictions were going to be lifted, so why not voluntarily postpone, end the useless hoping, and have a concrete plan for the following week?

Ben’s friend didn’t answer. Neither did the airline.

I did get a call from him the next evening. If I wanted to go out with him and his friends (not including my friend Ben), they were doing something that night. After that, he was pretty busy. I’m proud to say that I declined this less-than-chivalrous invitation and went dancing with my friends instead.

As I write this, I am currently on the phone (on hold) with my airline. But if they say something along those lines of what Ben’s friend said, I’ll jump at the chance… much like a 15-year-old girl would jump at the chance of seeing that vampire dude from Twilight.

We might not all be part of the elite group of “volcanoly-challenged-stranded-travelers,” but we’ve all been in the situation where we’ve waited and hoped, looked a little desperate, and even succumbed to a few vices. The good news is, with time (another horrible four-letter word) these things actually get better. It’s the waiting that sucks. And the hoping.

Believe it or not, all those yucky feelings after a break-up (or rejection) slowly get better. Unfortunately, gelato is not a substitute for time. But, a day will come when you’ve had an amazing first date, and it’s exciting to wait and hope for a call about the next one. As for me, I’m just waiting to hear those three little words, “clear for takeoff.”

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It finally happened. Maybe it was when you were giving her your best “come hither” look, as her eyes and the merlot twinkled in the candlelight. Or perhaps you were out for a stroll, and she leaned into you as the wind blew her hair. Or better yet, maybe you were lazing in bed on Sunday morning, too blissful to dress. And then she said it.

“I’ve bought us tickets for a show.” And she’s not talking about the topless kind in Vegas.

She means a Broadway show, gentlemen.

There’s going to be singing,  dancing, and most likely, a lot of angst. If I may speak in gross generalities, women tend to get really fired up about musical theatre, while men (though they might not hate it) can probably think of better things to do on a Saturday night. Personally, I love going to the theatre, and the more singing about inner turmoil, the better. Yes, it’s unbelievable to burst into song, but we suspend reality all the time when watching television or films. For me, the music takes the emotion of the situation up a notch. It’s art at its finest, a beautiful marriage of story and sound.

But I digress. I’m not here to sell anyone on musical theatre. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. That being said, when presented with show tickets, be aware! The secrets of the female mind are hidden in music, harmonies, and plot-driven-lyrics. Never fear, for all will be revealed to you over the two- to three-hour course of the show (plus intermission).

However, in case you find it a bit difficult to follow the show’s plot and decipher the secrets of the female mind, I humbly present the hidden secrets in some popular musicals:

Les Miserables: There are about a bazillion characters in Les Mis, and they usually die as soon as you figure out who they are. And, unless you have a master’s degree in French history, it’s basically about a little uprising about which no one knows. That being said, keep your eyes open for the character named Eponine. Truth be told, she’s a teen-aged, uneducated, pickpocket. But we love her anyway. She has a show-stopping solo called “On My Own” right after intermission, and most likely your girlfriend will be in tears. Married, single, divorced, newly-in-love, we’re always going to love that song about unrequited love. We’ve all been there, and we never want to be there again!

Wicked: The premise is the life of the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz, essentially before she becomes, well, wicked. Ladies all have an inner witch (and no, I’m not substituting “witch” for the word that rhymes with it). Our inner witch is cleaver, slightly diabolical, sympathetic, ugly, but beautiful within. She is a deeper side of us. We want you to love the Wicked Witch—and us—for the lovable characteristics that you can’t see right away.

Rent: In Rent, everyone meets, falls passionately in love, breaks up or dies, but somehow still finds love again. The secrets here: we want you to love us for our creative, rebellious, and vulnerable vices, as well as our virtues. And, we’re watching to see how open-minded you are about social issues.

Phantom of the Opera: Behind the sexy, mysterious mask is a man without a nose, a partially exposed skull, and some serious anger-management issues. But with the mask and a killer song, he’s every woman’s dreamboat. The Phantom loves his lady for her talent, beauty, and everything that she could be. It’s a dark, burning, intense love, one that never rests. And we all want someone to love us that strongly. Granted, the Phantom gets a bit stalker-psycho, but in the end, he knows that, because he loves her, he must set his lady free to marry the hot, rich guy. And the heroine sails off knowing she’s always got a man burning for her, with a love deeper than she’s ever known, in addition to the young stud. Not a bad situation to be in!

West Side Story: A more classic show, where the actors talk, then suddenly burst into song. It’s a modern telling of Romeo and Juliet, though the two main characters are slightly older and more believable than the original 13-year-old star-crossed lovers. You’ve got dancing gang members, rage, sex, murder, attempted-rape, tragedy, and finally, peace and understanding on the hostile streets of New York City. Pretty amazing. Unlike Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Tony and Maria’s love defies social and racial boundaries. The stakes are higher for them, but their love is stronger than hate. We want you to love us just as strongly. And the dancing gang members are just cool.

So, in case you missed it, the uniting theme—or inner female secret—is loving, and being loved in return, no matter the circumstances. That, despite our shortcomings, inner witches, and external influences, someone is willing to love us deeply and passionately. You don’t have to agree with us, or with the musical. It is the emotion and feelings evoked that we want you to understand. And while you might not connect to musical theatre like your girlfriend does, deep down, don’t you also want someone who will love you just as passionately, despite your own flaws, real or perceived?

Deep down, I believe that we all have the dream and desire for a love so strong it can defy gravity, that somewhere, there is a place for us where we can make the music of the night, so we are never on our own again as we weather the seasons of love. (If you actually got that sentence, you are my hero.)

Photo by Ed Yourdon

A few months ago, I posted some easy ways to make your relationship stronger. They were simple and not too taxing, right?  But now it’s time to talk about those dreadful things like:

• Introspection
• Personal responsibility
• Seeing past your own anger

Yikes! How un-fun is that? Because, really, how can anyone be expected to do these things when our partner is clearly in the wrong? Hmm, maybe it’s better to see beyond the need to be right and look at how to work out differences?

1.  Don’t be jealous, and if you are, own it. You may not like what I’m going to say, but look at sexy people. They are all around us. On TV, on the street, in the workplace. The day after our wedding, my husband and I took a walk on Mission Beach before we met up with the rest of our friends and family for the post-wedding events. Suddenly, this model-chick with literally the most perfect butt roller-bladed past us. All butts should aspire to look this good. And I know mine does not. But he was still holding my hand, and we had a nice little banter about the perfectness of what had just skated by.

Love yourself enough to know that, despite the fact that we are surrounded by good-looking people, you still have someone who loves you for who you are. Love and trust your partner enough to know that looking is simply that. Looking.

A caveat: be aware that feelings are not logical, and we cannot be expected to control them. We do control how we act upon them. If you are jealous about someone specific, own this feeling, and be honest about it. Don’t tell your boyfriend that he can’t look at other women. Instead, be specific. Tell him, “look, I trust you, but I feel a little jealous when you talk about how much fun your super-model, blonde, Swedish, office mate is.”  No ultimatum, no suggestion that he quit, change offices, or stop talking to the lady. You may find that, instead of a fight, you’re met with an “I’m sorry” or, better yet, he says, “you know I love you best,” or “she reminds me of you.”

Another caveat: gauge your partner’s reactions. If you see your boyfriend cringe every time you ogle the sexy waiter at the sushi restaurant as he refills your sake, don’t jump to the conclusion that he’s being too controlling. He may be trying not to act jealous, but cannot control the feeling. Be aware of how your actions can affect others, and reassure him that it’s his sake that keeps you warm, and not the waiter’s.

2.  Be honest about your moods. We all wake up on the wrong side of the bed. And when we do, boy, is our partner ever annoying! But it’s not fair to pick a fight just because you’re having a crappy day. By the way, this is not easy to do because, sometimes, I cannot pinpoint what is bothering me. I just know that I am angry and that my husband is taking too long a shower, or hogging the computer, or left a spoonful of yogurt in the container, and it is driving me crazy!

But instead of airing all my anger in dramatic, raging monologue, followed by a door-slamming exit, I ask myself, “would this have bothered me yesterday?” I know my husband doesn’t do things to purposefully make me mad. So, I tell him that I’m frustrated, not with him, but that I still need a little space. And if I need help from him, I tell him specifically what I need. We can’t expect mind-reading.

3.  He’s not the perfect man, he’s the perfect man for you. Okay, this one’s abstract because it’s a change of mindset. He’s not the perfect guy because he’s tall, handsome, likes to take long walks on the beach and read poetry. He’s perfect because he loves you for who you are (not because you’re tall, gorgeous, like to take long walks on the beach and watch football games.) He’s perfect because he respects himself enough to know what he wants in a relationship and is willing to build one with you.

4.  During a fight, look at things from his point of view. Seriously, when my husband and I fight, the last thing I want to do is see things from his side because, really, I’m the hurt and wronged-one here. But when I actually listen, I can see a different perspective—maybe not one I like or agree with, but a step toward resolution nevertheless.

Just acknowledging that both of you are hurting takes the “right” and the “wrong” out of the fight and it makes it easier to find a solution that makes both of you happy.

5.  Lather, rinse, repeat.

Communication is really what this all boils down to.  “I need you to understand how I feel.”  “I need your help.” “I need to understand how you feel.” These aren’t easy conversations. They take patience and respect for yourself and your partner. We have to work to understand our feelings and our partner’s, but in the end, we learn as much about ourselves as we do about the one we love.

Rick was tall, funny, cute, and liked by all. When he put his arm around me, my heart sped up. I’m pretty sure there were butterflies living in my stomach. This was cool, right? All the cool girls had boyfriends. My new boyfriend had surely elevated my geek status to solid nerd.

We sat on the planters in the quad, our faces snuggled close. Wow, we’re really close. Seriously, are those butterflies or elephants? And then he leaned in, his lips nervously edging towards mine. My heart raced faster. This is it, my first kiss, here we go…

Oh! I pulled away. My head and body wriggled back in a very awkward movement. How embarrassing for both of us–a highly coordinated dodge, yet terribly unattractive.

Flash forward 20 years. Cue distant accordion music and the smell of fresh basil….

“Signora, you are still here! I thought you were just a tourist,” he said to me, in Italian.

“No,” I explained, “I live here now. And thank you, one again, for cutting my baby boy’s hair for free. I see your barbershop when I walk to the preschool.”

Thus began my relationship with Antonio.

Always eager to practice my Italian and to be accepted by the villagers in our small town just outside of Tuscany, I talked to Antonio every day. We had coffee together at least once a week. I’d pass his shop each morning with a “buon giorno” and an air kiss on each cheek–the typical Italian greeting for friends and acquaintances.

So, at first I thought nothing of the kissing.

Antonio knew I was married. In addition to the ring on the tell-tale finger, whenever anyone asks me why I’m living in Italy, my first response is because my husband has a job here. Also, the adorable baby at my side is a very good indicator that I am most likely spoken for.

It happened in his shop. He was chatting on about something, and I could barely keep up with the ever-running translation in my head. I smiled and nodded, smiled and nodded, half lost. And suddenly, his hands were on both sides of my cheeks, his face barreling toward mine. I was either about to be headbutted or violently kissed. I saw pursed lips. Uh-oh, it’s the latter.

My 9th-grade instincts kicked in, and I wiggled away. “I’m married,” I protested politely, trying to be sensitive of the possible cultural misconception that was happening.

I think now is a good time to tell you that Antonio is not what you would call your fantasy Italian lover. He’s nearing 60, a little taller than me, slightly squat, not ugly, but someone you’re not eager to make out with either. I’m just not amazingly attracted to the men here, and that’s not only because I have a hot husband. Hey, I’m alive and I like to look. However, since I started dating my husband, I guess I’ve always hoped that should I ever be presented with the opportunity to turn down a kiss, I would be spurning Brad Pitt’s hotter brother.

The aftermath of both situations played out almost exactly the same (save the language). There was a quick and awkward goodbye after my jiu-jitsu lean-back-and-dodge maneuver.

A phone call a few hours later….

“I hope I didn’t offend you,” the apology of the 60-year-old Italian was frightening reminiscent of the 9^th-grade Rick.

“I’m just not comfortable doing that. I hope we can still be friends.”

And thus continued my friendships with Rick and Antonio. Oh, I dumped Rick–and for the record, I would definitely like to say it was not him, it was me. My problem, and definitely my loss. Our un-kiss was not one of my prouder moments. Luckily for me, we kept in touch through high school and into college, until time and distance let the bonds of friendship fade. I just found him via Facebook, and he immediately responded, “how could I forget the only girl to dump me after five days for trying to kiss her.” If I wasn’t married and he wasn’t significantly attached, I would totally make out with him to make amends.

As for Antonio, I still see him every day, we still have coffee a few times a week together (he buys, even though I always offer). He gives me cooking tips and he even bought me an Italian cookbook for Christmas. He is now my husband’s as well as my son’s barber.

I set a boundary, and it had been respected both in the 9th grade and in Italy. Yes, it was uncomfortable, but making my feelings known in a polite but firm way ended up strengthening my friendship with both men. Often, by not being aware of our own comfort levels, or being fearful of setting limits (because they could be perceived poorly) we make situations worse for ourselves and those around us. If we are uncomfortable, why are we afraid to set boundaries that would make ourselves and others happier?

That being said, not two days ago I went to Antonio’s shop to give him a sample of a Tuscan soup I had made from his recipe. However, before I could say, “ciao,” his hands were on my cheeks, and he planted one right on me. So it seems I must ponder, am I dating the barber?

Image by Paul Watson

“They make it look so easy,” or “I bet they never fight,” or my favorite, “she has the perfect guy.” We’ve all said that, right? Well, let’s get a few things straight:

1. Relationships are not easy.

2. Everyone fights, it’s normal and healthy, and it actually makes your relationship stronger.

3. No one has the perfect guy (or girl).

Now that that’s out there, let me say a few warm-fuzzy things before I completely dash everyone’s hopes of finding a perfect match. I’m married, and I’m really happy being married. If I’m meeting my husband in a bar (yes, we still go to bars) and I see him across the room, my heart still gives an extra little pitter-patter. Even after being together for ten years, I still have a giant crush on him.

So how is it possible to be happy when faced with the tough truth that relationships are not easy? Well, if you make an honest effort to respect and communicate with your partner (and follow my handy-dandy hints), things start to feel less like work and become part of normal habits. And, dare I say, “easy?”

But what does that statement really mean, and how do you do it?

When I started writing this article, I wrote down every pearl of wisdom I could imagine, and I found myself staring at way too many pages to post on a blog. Therefore, I’ve broken my list down into two groups: the easy ones and the hard ones.

We’ll start with the easy ones because, while these suggestions are not amazingly original pieces of advice, they are things that can often be forgotten in the hubbub of daily life. The good news is these tips are easy to do and the effects are immediate (your partner will light up)! We’re tackling the low-hanging fruit today, so to speak. These are things that work for me, and even though I’m technically “working” on our relationship, I find that it doesn’t really seem like that much work.

Just a quick aside, I’m writing from a woman’s point of view, so I’ll say things like “…talk to your boyfriend…” for the sake of time and space. But this article is for both men and women, so men, in your heads, switch all “boyfriends” to “girlfriends” when I give examples.

1. Laugh. Everyday, as often as you can. We’re always trying to make each other laugh. It’s just so much more fun to be around someone when you’re both trying to have a good time. It makes the mundane enjoyable. Like grocery shopping. Grocery stores play the cheesiest ballads from the 70s and 80s. I lip sync or do a really dorky dance just to liven things up in the shampoo aisle. Soon, you too can be associating Captain & Tenille with paper towels…

2. Tell your partner how much you love him. Once that first, terrifying, sweaty-palmed “I love you” is out of the way, don’t be stingy with the “I love yous.” This is particularly important for couples who have been together for a while. Tell him everyday, and not just when you’re leaving or hanging up the phone. We say it every morning as we’re waking up. Sappy, maybe. But ask yourself, what’s better: having the alarm wake you up, or having someone put their arms around you, snuggle, and tell you how much he loves you? Sappy wins.

3. Have sex. Often. I think this one speaks for itself. (A special aside to couples with babies or children: Have sex. Often. Even if you’re tired. Don’t be one of those couples who can’t remember the last time they had sex. And don’t plan a “sex” night; it’s so contrived and un-spontaneous. Sex isn’t a homework assignment. You were animal and lusty once, it’s still in you. Don’t forget it.)

4. Tell your partner how sexy you think he is. This one, and the previous one, are especially important for couples who have been together a long time. We often get complacent with compliments after the initial thrill of attraction subsides, but it’s important to let your partner know just how amazing and attractive you still think he is. Chances are, you find him even more attractive than you did when you first met because you know so much more about him. Tell him. Like I said earlier, I still have a giant crush on my husband, and when he looks hotter than normal to me, I tell him. Conversely, when he makes a comment about my posterior in my skinny jeans, well, I feel a rush of pride… and it makes the effort of staying in those skinny jeans worth it!

5. Give compliments. Maybe we’re odd here, but we’ve always talked work at home. We do this for many reasons, but I genuinely enjoy seeing the professional side of my husband. I don’t see this side at home, so when he tells me about his day, I get to tell him how impressive he is. And I do.

6. Say “thank you.” And if you forget, tell him the next day. Appreciation goes a long way.

7. Talk about other people’s relationships. This is not an excuse to “talk bad” about your friends. It’s an opportunity to discuss what you think works and doesn’t work in relationships, your likes and dislikes. And since you’re not directly analyzing your own relationship, it’s a great way for you and your partner to communicate in a non-threatening way. Maybe you’ll even learn something for the future, have a model to emulate, or have an opportunity to pat yourselves on the back for a crisis avoided (that is, if your friends seem to have a problem that you would have handled in a different way). I’m not going to give any specific example, but I will say this is something we do quite frequently because it opens up doors to interesting discussions about feelings, reactions, etc. without the stress of it being “your” problem.

8. Lather, rinse, repeat.

So, there’s my two cents, or eight as the case may be. By the way, the advice about compliments and saying “thank you” go a long way with family, friends, and professional relationships. Just thought I’d throw that out there. So, give it a shot. This is the “easy” list – next article will have more abstract advice. But, I wanted to start somewhere, you know, and keep it fun, light – I’m not all “relationshipy” and “self-helpy” all the time.