Hot Flashes and Fresh Starts

 Well, here we are.

I've been thinking about starting a blog forever, but I kept getting stuck on the same two questions: Where do I even start? and Who would want to read what I have to say?

I’ve been told—more times than I can count—that blogging is hard. Finding a niche, building an audience, connecting with people… it's a whole thing. And honestly? I still have no clue what I’m doing. I have zero expectations. But you know what? Here I am.

Once again.

Staring at this blank screen, wondering if anyone out there feels like I do—lost, lonely, and completely over it. Maybe you're in the thick of a divorce. Maybe you’ve already signed the papers. Or maybe you're teetering on the edge, wondering if you should just say, screw it and start over.

Regardless, I think we need each other.

Or maybe it's just me who needs somebody. Either way… here goes nothing.

Who Am I?

Hi, I’m Melody Layne. My birth certificate says I'm 50ish, but my brain still thinks I’m in my 20s. My body, however, is convinced I fought in the Civil War. I wake up every morning feeling worse than when I went to bed—creaky knees, aching back, and a deep regret for not stretching more in my youth. But hey, I’m still here. So that’s something.

I’m newly divorced after 27 years of marriage.

Twenty-seven. Freaking. Years.

Wasted? Not entirely. I have my kids, and honestly, they’re the only reason I’m still standing. I have three daughters and one son, all grown, scattered across the country, living their lives.

• My oldest is in Colorado, thriving as a lead librarian and raising my only granddaughter—who, terrifyingly enough, just started middle school. (Hold me.)
• My son, who turns 27 soon, moved back home to "save money" but mostly just spends it on his girlfriend. Love him (and her), but financial responsibility is not his strong suit.
• My middle daughter lives in Washington—about as far from me as she could get without leaving the country. Not personal (I think). We talk every day, though, and she has an amazing husband I proudly claim as my bonus son.
• My youngest, my 23-year-old, still lives at home, figuring things out. She’s an incredible artist and a hardcore gamer.

How It Started

My ex and I met in high school. We both had crushes but never said anything because of girl code—he dated one of my best friends. Off-limits. End of story.

Flash forward nine years. April 26, 1996. I was fresh out of a bad breakup and in need of a girls’ night out. Dinner, a movie, and a trip to Applebee’s (because I was clearly living large).

I noticed a guy across the restaurant who looked familiar. He saw me, smiled, and eventually walked over.

"Hey, do you remember me?"

I… did not.

After some awkward guessing, he told me who he was, and I was shocked. He’d changed—taller, bigger, different. We chatted until his food arrived, and before heading back to his table, he asked if we could meet up later. I said yes. My best friend, ever the voice of reason, was not thrilled. She gave me the talk—you know, the are you sure this is a good idea? talk.

I should have listened.

But I didn’t.

We met up that night at a park near his place. We talked for hours. It was nice. He lent me his hoodie because I was cold. There were no fireworks, no magical movie moments—just two people reconnecting.

If I could go back, I’d tell that younger version of myself to run. To remember her worth. To know she deserved so much more.

But we all know hindsight is 20/20.

So… Now What?

Now, I’m here. Navigating midlife, menopause, and a messy new beginning. Some days, I feel free. Other days, I feel like I’ve been sucker-punched by reality. I want to build something new for myself—starting with this blog. 

If you’ve made it this far, bless you. Seriously.

If you’re in the same boat—divorced, thinking about it, or just feeling a little lost—let’s talk. Drop a comment, say hi, share your story. And if you feel like sticking around, I’d love that.

Stay tuned—there’s plenty more to come. No one dreams of divorce after 50, but I will get through it and so will you.