Soft Life, Hard Lessons: The Luxury of Letting Go
Columns Lynette Evans Columns Lynette Evans

Soft Life, Hard Lessons: The Luxury of Letting Go

“Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. You look ten years younger.”

That’s what a man told me recently, and I had to smile. He didn’t know he was looking at a woman who had survived a tsunami. He didn’t know that just as I had finished a hard, honest conversation with myself about the state of my marriage, a hidden betrayal hit me with a force that nearly annihilated me. I had no time to brace for the impact; I just had to decide if I was going to swim or float away aimlessly.

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Soft Life, Hard Lessons: Swipe Left on My Spirit
Columns Lynette Evans Columns Lynette Evans

Soft Life, Hard Lessons: Swipe Left on My Spirit

Let me bring you into my soft-life laboratory, because post-divorce dating has a sense of humor I did not sign up for. I told myself I’d try something new. Stretch my faith. Dip a toe into modern romance.

So I downloaded Bumble and Hinge.

Yes. Me.

A grown woman with three children, all my edges, rooted faith, and a therapist who said, “We ain’t taking this ish into 2026.”

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Soft Life, Hard Lessons: The Price of Peace
Columns Lynette Evans Columns Lynette Evans

Soft Life, Hard Lessons: The Price of Peace

So here I am: rebuilding, relearning, re-everything. Washington State, bless its procedural little heart, makes you wait a full 90 days before you can even finalize a divorce. Raggedy. I could’ve been free by now, had my soon-to-be-ex not spent nine rounds avoiding the process server like it was tag at recess. So yes, I’m irritated.

I winced when my therapist—a doctor, mind you—named him a narcissist who love-bombed me at the beginning. You could’ve held my hand for that, sis.

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