RELATIONSHIPS

Postnuptial agreements – they’re all the rage!

Just kidding, no they’re not.

We’ve all heard of the prenup.

But what about the postnup?

Yes, that is what some lawyers are recommending for spouses who put their careers on hold to have their children.

Prenuptial agreements have become so common among the 1 percent they are considered practically a given. But postnuptial agreements, those negotiated after a marriage has already taken place, are still rarities and an object of curiosity for much of the population. According to experts, however, their popularity is growing. In a 2012 survey conducted by the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers, 51 percent of divorce attorneys cited a rise in postnuptial agreements during the past three years. Perhaps an even more interesting number is the 36 percent of attorneys who noted an increase in wives initiating the requests.

On July 3rd 2005, I married Brandon – the love of my life.

Our courtship was a whirlwind romance; the kind of stuff in fairy tales. Brandon and I first met in 1991 when I went on vacation with his brother and my friend. At the time, we all saw Brandon as the “little brother” that hung out with us. Since he was five years younger, he was not part of our group.

Over the years, I would see Brandon at occasional family events and visits, but we never really talked for more than a few minutes. Don’t get me wrong – I always thought Brandon was “hot” – a professional hockey player, at 6’1, with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, he could not be ignored. I just always thought of him as my friend’s younger brother who was (honestly), way out of my league.

Fast forward to August 2004, when Brandon once again joined our friends for a dinner out in Toronto. We sat next to each other and for the first time, had a real conversation.

That night he told his best friend that he had met his wife.

My name is Marnie. I am a 40-something woman, girl, lady, mother, sister, daughter, aunt… you get the picture. I am currently at the peak of transition in my life– starting over in every conceivable way. Living in a new city. Subletting as my material world lays in storage. I can literally go anywhere, become anyone, do anything. My true accountability is only to myself, as I am at the beginning of my journey with just me in tow… and maybe a carry-on or two depending on the day. My words are from my soul, they are real and hopefully they are relatable. My hope is to help other souls beginning anew in uncharted territory.

Father’s Day on Sunday is a strange day for me. Heavy and yet not heavy, and I will share why.

I saw it.

Last night.

REQUEST: Please consider today’s post the equivalent of a romance novel review. Like a kind of escapism. Let’t not make it anymore than that today, shall we?

But first, let’s recap a blog post I wrote on March 30th, 2012:

Ladies, this book is hot. REALLY hot. And I’m not embarrassed to say that I put down an incredible memoir to be taken away by Fifty Shades of Grey. Hell, I don’t even read fiction, but I had to see what all the hype was about. Well, I had NO idea what I was in for. I am halfway through, and I’m HOOKED. Smitten. I find myself sneaking moments to read whenever I can– hockey practice, carpool lineup. The buzz is everywhere. Conversation flowing amongst all the yummy mummies I meet. Women telling me their whole bodies “tingle” when they read this book. Or that they just wanna go home and f— their husbands. We discussed it at my girl’s dinner this week and we talked about it while I served hot lunch at school yesterday. But I will tell you, I have rediscovered my husband again because of this book. I kid you not. It has done wonders to our marriage. Let’s just say, my husband has never been so thrilled to see me reading.

After TMZ released the video yesterday of Baltimore Ravens football player Ray Rice knocking his then girlfriend (now wife) unconscious with one single punch, victims of abuse began to come forward and tell their powerful stories in 140 characters or less: #WhyIStayed and #WhyILeft.

Their hashtags gave us a horrific but honest view into the dangerous and tragic world of domestic violence. They were gut-wreching to read.

Wow, these are some wild numbers when you’re just 39 years old! Yes, today, I celebrate 14 years of marriage. We were just teens when we feel in love– 19 years old to be exact… he, 20. We smoked, we drank, we studied, we partied, we slept, we had a lot of sex, we were carefree.

Fast forward almost 20 years later… we don’t smoke, we drink occasionally (okay, him almost never), we still know how to party (when we’re able to stay up past 9pm), we are still having sex (albeit today’s numbers probably pale in comparison) and we ain’t as carefree as we used to be.

Man, real life bites, huh?!