​If you’ve been on this earth for more than half a century, you already know contracts are worth their weight in gold. And, with so much at stake, a marriage contract should be no exception.

The statistics aren’t kind to our age group. In the United States, adults aged fifty and over divorcing have roughly doubled since 1990.

It’s Your Marriage. Shouldn’t You Make the Rules?
It was in October, 2014 that I tuned into Global TV’s The Morning Show. The hosts were interviewing authors Susan Pease Gadoua and Vicki Larson, who had just written a new book entitled ‘The New I Do’. This book shed new light on how we look at marriage and offered seven alternative models to redefine matrimony for the 21st century. I thought this was fascinating and decided to dig deeper.

What stood out from the interview was the concept of a partnership or marriage in real-world terms. This made sense. Since such a large percentage of marriages don’t last, there must be alternatives or at least a better way of forming a marriage. (This is not the same as a prenup, which deals exclusively with the distribution of assets after marital breakdown.)

Let’s Try This Instead
We have the power to make our own rules. It starts with two consenting adults and a renewable contract. That’s it. As part of a negotiated agreement, your partnership or marriage would include your expectations, conditions, and terms. Your roles would be clarified — removing the ambiguity of who’s responsible for what; no controlling or assuming roles.

If both parties agree, it is legally binding. If the relationship is going hunky dory, you can renew or tweak your agreement. From there, your love, passion, friendship, or whatever you want your relationship to look like will have a better chance to grow.

What Does a 21st Century Marriage Look Like?
What are you looking for in a relationship? Do you know that love is not on everyone’s priority list?
Compatibility
Companionship
Active sex life
Relationship based on lifestyle and desires rather than romantic love
Guilt-free open relationship
and more…

The Long Distance Relationship
My research into ‘gray divorce’ started on a recent trip from Calgary to Edmonton. Having no desire to do this four and a half hour drive in the middle of an Alberta winter, I decided to travel by way of Red Arrow bus. For those unfamiliar with Red Arrow, it is a luxury version of Greyhound.

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Baby boomers are guilty of having an attitude that there is nothing younger generations of women can teach us — aside from possibly tech. We’ve been there, done that, and we are the generation that made their lives so much better. I’m calling bullsh#t.

Thoughts from a Gen XerIn 2004, I was employed as a legal assistant (we were called legal secretaries back then) in a mid-sized law firm. We “old timers” would sit around the staff lunchroom and discuss how we would fix all the world’s problems should anyone ask. There were four or five of us in our core group, all 40-ish, except one in her 60s. A new staff hire, a 32-year-old woman I’ll call Sheila, had recently joined us. We may have been a pretty opinionated bunch, but we remained friendly and welcoming to new women. There were no male secretaries at that time.

I liked Sheila right off the bat. She was tenacious: divorced, raising three children on her own, and could easily pass for eighteen. In fact, she told us that when she bought lottery tickets, they would card her. Maybe she was bragging.

You are not entitled to your opinion. You are entitled to your informed opinion. No one is entitled to be ignorant.
— American writer, Harlan Ellison

One day, the lunchroom conversation turned to movies. Sheila mentioned that over the weekend she had watched a new movie called Saw and commented on how much she had enjoyed it. If you aren’t familiar with this 2004 film, it’s a gory, violent, psychological horror.

Thinking I was an expert on cinema, I immediately piped in, “I’ve heard about that movie, and it sounds like garbage.” Without getting annoyed at my rather rude, off-the-cuff remark, Sheila said that if I happened to be a fan of the psychological horror genre, I might think otherwise. That shut me up. She was right. If I were a member of its target market, I would be in a position to rate it. This was the equivalent of a devoted opera fan being asked to comment on a British punk rock band. I was trashing a movie I had never seen and had no interest in.

It appeared Sheila was more astute than I had given her credit, and I found myself taking an interest in what this Gen Xer had to say.

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The Blueprint
How much of your life have you spent trying to fit in? It seems that just as we pop out of our mother’s vagina shouting, “I’m here!!!”, Nurse Normal quickly shoves the doctor aside and stamps our tiny foreheads with the blueprint of how our future selves are to behave, look, and live so we will fit in.

It Takes a Long Time to Grow Young
I struggled in both school and then as a new mother to be “normal”. Attempting to place my square pegs into those round holes was impossible. I just didn’t fit the mould.

I had fallen into the trap of believing conformity meant acceptance, which would translate into happiness. But that never happened. Despite my best efforts, I was not happy, and I wasn’t accepted. When you try to be something you’re not, you lose your authenticity and, in my case, it showed. Deep down, I knew it was hopeless.

Over time, I came to understand what ‘different’ truly meant. That difference was something special, and if given the chance to grow, it could become something much greater than ‘normal’.

“…Yet it struck me that being a woman was akin to a performance, with its cues and lines that had to be learned. I knew how I was supposed to act and what I was supposed to say, I just wasn’t exactly sure if I wanted to.” – The Lost Bookshop by Evie Woods

My Role Model
In hindsight, I should have known my attempts at fitting the mould were never meant to be. My mother, Elizabeth, was a reject from normalcy and was happy to be so.

She was eclectic, maybe even a bit eccentric, but that was just who she was. As her daughter, I sometimes found this a bit embarrassing. Having a mother who was an anomaly was a bit daunting.

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“Of all the ways you can limit yourself, your own self-definition is the most powerful.” — MICHAEL CRICHTON

You have a lifetime of knowledge, mistakes and achievements to work with. I’m wiser now than I’ve ever been and find the world as curious and intriguing as if I were a two-year-old. We are the sum total of all our missteps and accomplishments. Self-improvement begins in these five areas: mental, social, spiritual, emotional and physical. Get busy getting to know yourself. With all that life experience stored in your head, you can create magic! Discover how to implement and organize that knowledge.

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A Fishy StoryWatching fish calmly glide through an aquarium is so peaceful and relaxing. When life gets stressful, it would be almost spiritual to gaze upon a graceful little goldfish swimming about. I’d call my new buddy Sherman, and he would be my best friend in challenging times; such a better alternative than coping on anti-anxiety medications.
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I would create a lovely home for his occupancy in a reasonably large bowl, a castle to sleep in, swaying plants to hide behind, fresh water, and an abundance of his favourite foods. Heck, I might even throw in a mermaid or one of those deep-sea divers. And if he got lonely, I’d be happy to supply him with a few fishy friends. That sounds delightful. Sherman would feel like he had his own Tahitian slice of paradise.

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​​If we were the pilots of our own flight of life’s fulfillment and meaning, would the Universe choose who would accompany us on our journey? 
Let’s see. There would be a flight crew, a co-pilot, passengers, the occasional hijacker, terrorist, and a ground crew that would keep us safely soaring through the sky. We would round out our crew with that incompetent navigator who can’t seem to read a map  – but we love her anyway because she surprises us with never-ending detours.
With luck, our flight will be a long one, but many stops must be made along the way. As we soar through the skies of possibilities and destinations, some of those who share our journey will leave us. They will be dropped off at various airports to seek their own adventures, and we will continue on our odyssey with newcomers and our favourite remaining passengers. And, of course, there will always be those annoying hangers-on who will refuse to get off.
Those Intriguing Short-Haul Passengers
Some of those on board are short-haul passengers: making us laugh for a few moments, teaching us to cherish memorable acquaintances, and sharing their wisdom. They will remind us of the importance of appreciating different cultures and traditions during the brief time we spend together. 
Children will find mates of their own and board their own transport. Parents may cease to exist physically, and partners may decide your journey is no longer one they wish to share. Those nasty hijackers and terrorists may temporarily force us to deviate from our intended itineraries, but our trusty ground crew will set things right and have us on our way once again.
Sometimes there will be adversaries among our passengers. As the lionhearted pilot, we will equip them with parachutes and, with a quick farewell, send them on their way – perhaps with a gentle push. This will allow them to embark on their own escapades.

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Herman died in sixth grade. It was the year I discovered I liked boys for more than their Halloween candy.

Back in the 1960s, Alberta, Canada, sixth grade was the last year of childhood innocence before we were promoted to the most terrifying years of our lives — Junior High!

The Teachers
My class had two teachers, Miss Forbes and Mrs. Friesen. Miss Forbes was also the principal of our elementary school, so she job-shared with Mrs. Friesen to allow time for her administrative duties.

The incident in question occurred on Mrs. Friesen’s watch, as there is no possibility of it happening in Miss Forbes’ classroom. In those days, it was Miss, not Ms.

Miss Forbes was in her early 50s, never married, with steel grey hair, quite squat and about 250 pounds. She had a Jekyll and Hyde personality, which moved with such fluidity that we never saw it coming until it was too late.

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1:00 pm It doesn’t get better than this! As I delight in this glorious autumn afternoon, I’m perched on my front porch, nestled in my favourite rocking chair, which is well acquainted with and contoured to my old lady’s posterior. The day is a little chilly, but I’m wrapped in my plaid Snuggle. You know — that blanket with sleeves that everyone wished they’d invented.
My beautiful maple tree stands shamelessly half naked in front of me, showing off the remains of its flaming yellow, orange and red leaves. My imagination gets the best of me, and I can envision them talking to each other. “Hang on boys, here comes another breeze. Hang tight to your branches. Wait! Oh no! There goes Joe. Joe! Look, he’s falling! Oh no. Say it ain’t so Joe. Goodbye Joe. We’ll miss you.”
1:20 pm Quiet. Then, above my head, half a dozen ducks fly over my rooftop. I wave. “Goodbye, guys. Safe flight, and here’s hoping all guns aimed in your general direction jam. And just so you know, if you would just shut up and stop that infernal quacking, maybe the hunters wouldn’t even know you were there. Just sayin’.”

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​From a very young age, I was taught that if I wanted success or to obtain what I desired, I would need to fight, force, control, and anticipate the worst and overcome it.

Well, I’m here to tell you that philosophy doesn’t work. Here’s what I’ve learned.

Life is Not Random
My belief system was nothing more than barely controlled chaos. The Universe needed me to scooch over and get the heck out of the way.

I was filling my mind and soul with worry, stress, and doubt that wasn’t fixing or creating anything but more of the same. It added nothing to my well-being and took up precious space that the natural flow of the Universe could have filled.

In my early fifties, I knew my highly paid executive/legal assistant job was coming to an end. My boss was drawing closer to retirement, and the international law firm I worked for had started weeding expensive staff out and replacing us with younger, half-the-price employees.

I needed that job and had nothing saved for retirement! What would I do? Where would I go? Who would hire me at my age?

So when I returned part-time to college at the age of 53 to follow my dream of becoming a travel agent, I came up with a whole new set of angst. All I could think about was who would hire an old, inexperienced person like me? How could I sell vacations to people who were more well-travelled than I? They’re going to quickly discover I’m a charlatan. How was I ever going to pay back the student loans and credit card debt I had spent on this outlandish idea? Just who did I think I was fooling?

I was consumed with doubt and fear of failure rather than the excitement of starting a new chapter in my life. I hadn’t even considered all the impressive skills and experience I had accumulated over my lifetime, and I was more than capable of transferring them to my new career.

Fear Will Give You More of the Same
The Universe doesn’t respond to desire; it responds to state of mind. I could want something with all my heart, but if my energy and aura were shouting fear and lack, the Universe was going to feel it and give me more of the same. I could meditate or repeat positive mantras until chickens grew teeth, but if, deep down, I was still clinging tightly to my lack, the dominant frequency remained fear.

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My husband baffles me. After 30 years, how is it possible for someone to love a feisty, contrary, unfiltered, eclectic, high-maintenance woman such as myself? What is wrong with him?
In June 2025, my husband and I celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary, just a few days after Father’s Day. We got together with our daughter and her husband to celebrate both occasions.
For a fun day out, I treated my son-in-law to an indoor skydiving experience to mark this special day. We couldn’t convince my whimpy husband to participate, and my daughter was temporarily sidelined, being several months pregnant. Both of them were assigned the job of photographers.

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