Wedding Anniversary.

October 8, 2012.

I woke that day feeling like I had an elephant was sitting on my chest. As if Monday mornings weren’t bad enough, I knew this one would be even worse. Today was, excuse me, would have my one-year wedding anniversary. Ideally on this day in a woman’s life she may wake up to find flowers, chocolates, breakfast in bed, jewelry. I woke up to an alarm clock blaring and my phone buzzing like crazy from text messages. Friends and family knew what day it was, and they were just calling to say “hello.” It was sweet of them, but my preference was to forget what day it was and just get on with my life.

My mother called as I was walking out the door for work. “Hi sweetie, its mom. How are you today?” She asked sounding a little bit too perky. “I am fine mom, how are you?” I asked back. “Look sweetie, I know it is going to be a hard day, what are you doing today?” She asked. “Work mom, I am working.” It was true; I wanted to hide under the covers, but I knew that would do me no good, and it just seemed lame.

When I got divorced from my first husband, I threw an “I am not married any more party,” on my wedding anniversary. I also cut all my hair off into a short bob and drank myself silly. I wouldn’t be doing any of that this year. I learned two major things from that experience; A girl with a square face can’t pull off a short bob, and once the hangover wears off you are still getting divorced.

My good friends refused to let me sit and wallow so though I didn’t want a party, I agreed to dinner. I still wasn’t sure where my husband was living; we were not exactly friends at this point. During his phase of trying to win me back, he kept claiming that he was moving to LA. So I was constantly on high alert that I would run into him somewhere. Since he still felt that we should try and “work it out” I decided to have dinner at a club that I belong to. I knew he wasn’t a member, so it drastically lowered my chances of running into him. I also found it a bit poetic since he had me kicked out of the club we belonged to together and then lied about being a member of this club for almost a year. It wasn’t until I became a member that I was able to verify he had been lying… shocking, I know.

The past year had been more turmoil than I had ever experienced, and I was ready to put it behind me. Though I wasn’t technically divorced at the time, I was ready to cleanse the past year out of my energy space.

I decided that I would burn something and since I couldn’t burn the images of him and Katy out of my head, wedding photos seemed like next best thing. Carrie Bradshaw once said that when you are going through a breakup you should, “destroy all photos where he looks sexy, and you look happy.” I decided to do just that; I decided to burn my wedding photos. I loved my wedding photos. My photographer was amazing, expensive but amazing. My husband didn’t feel it was a worthy expense, so I cashed in some stocks to pay for her myself. He would spend $1200 on shoes but wouldn’t pay a top photographer to capture the happiest day of our lives! Looking back I was lucky that we had so many great shots that I had put off picking out which ones I wanted to be blown up until after the holidays and the pageant season were over. I had only had a few smaller prints made to give to our family’s at Christmas. I wanted to make the perfect decision on our big photo since it was something that would hang in our home for years to come.

My best friend had a fire pit, so that evening we poured a glass of wine and grabbed the matches. Standing there over the roaring fire, I felt as if I should say something powerful or meaningful… but nothing came to mind. I took one last look at how happy I was on that day, my face full of hope and love. I said a small prayer to the universe for happiness in my life and chucked them into the flames. The photos lit quickly, throwing a lot of ash into the air, and then they curled and deformed as they burned. It was my first-time burning a photograph. They take a surprising longer time to burn than they do on soap operas. As I sat there watching the “happiest day of my life” go up in flames I felt sad.

At dinner that night as I looked around the table while sipping a fabulous red wine, I felt so blessed. The reason for the dinner was a sad one but even with all the pain and sadness I knew I was beyond lucky. I had such an amazing group of friends. They had supported me every moment of the past nine plus months and I would never forget their kindness. Most of them had been there as I walked down the aisle, and they were still standing with me. When you live 1500 miles away from you biological family you have to pick your local family, and everyone at that table was my family.

Speaking of family; after all this time I had not heard two words from my former “other family”- my in laws. It was mind blowing that they didn’t reach out to me at all. Had they nothing to say to me after their son/ brother had totally betrayed me? Lied to everyone, including them for all the knowledge I had, and they had nothing to say? I had learned not to expect much from them but something along the lines of; “We are sorry this has happened.” Or “I don’t know how we raised such a liar.” Or “Let us at least pay you back for some of the wedding costs.” Hell even a “We never liked you anyway, you deserve all this,” would have at least been some form of communication! They had promised to love me like a daughter at one point, clearly all bets were off. Now, admittedly my family wanted nothing to do with my husband but I had to beg them not to reach out… they had plenty they wanted to say.

After dinner, I went home to my new little life and sat in my bed. I pulled out my journal and tried to write, but I had nothing to say. The numb feeling I had the day I walked out had returned. As I sat there, not crying at all, I started to feel the numbness give way to anger and hurt. I pulled out my laptop and began to compose an email, to my former family. I didn’t want to yell at them or spew anger, but I wanted to say my piece and move on. I thought it was a perfect day for closure!

Logically I should have waited until morning to send an email but instead I hit the send button, turned off my side table lamp and stared at my ceiling. I have no idea how long I lay there, but it seemed like hours. Eventually, I fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning, the light was filtering in through the large windows that made up an entire wall of my apartment, I began to laugh. I had made it. I survived the past nine months and made it through my frist wedding anniversary-it felt great!

Single & Stylish,

xx Keylee

ps. I am posting this weeks blog from 10,000 feet in the air as I fly back from watching one of my best friends get married. Ah, love! The internet is a little weak on my flight so the fashion lookbook will have to wait till next week!

*All of the events I have written about in the above and previous posts are about me, my life, my experiences and from my point of view.

© Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Why Can’t Everyone Just Have Sex With Me?

This is a question comedian and talk show host Chelsea Handler  asked Conan O’Brien, and his viewing audience, during her recent appearance on his late night talk show Conan.  Do women like casual sex?  YES.  

This is a topic of conversation that comes up amongst my friends often and the crowd is very divided!  I happen to agree with Chelsea.   I am a woman in my thirties, single and have no children – so why can’t I just have sex with whomever I want?  Being safe and responsible of course.  Why are women looked down upon for liking sex or having sex like a man?  Men can sleep with a different woman every night and society will give him a collective high five for being a stud.  Women will even desire this man more because he is like the new hot shoe at Barneys that every girl wants try on. But a women who sleeps with a man she in not in a relationship with gets a collective slap across the face and a disapproving look from society (especially other women), she is considered loose or said to have low self esteem.  That is such double standard bullshit.  Believe it or not some women just like to have sex with no strings attached… yep, just like a man.  Everyone needs a f*ck buddy.

In Season two of Sex and City when Carrie attempts to date her longtime f*ck buddy Samantha says: “You’re going to take the only person in your life that’s there purely for sex, no strings attached, and turn him into a human being? Why?”

My thought exactly Samantha!  We all know that guy that we don’t want to “date” per say but they are fun, hot and great in bed.  I am a firm believer that as long as everyone is on the same page why not enjoy?  Sex is healthy, fun, helps boost your immune system, lowers your risk of heart attack and has a slew of other awesome benefits.  How can you go wrong?

The question I often get asked when this subject comes up is: “But, don’t you/ women get attached?” The hormone oxytocin is released in the brain during sex, this is also known as the cuddle hormone.  It makes us feel happy, safe and loved.  Studies show that women release more of this hormone than men and it is said to be the cause of why women get “attached” to men they have sex with.  Ok, I get it, but it doesn’t mean all women are this way!  We are not all stage five clingers.  Granted, I can’t speak for everyone woman on the planet but listen up; not all women get attached every time they have sex.  Maybe some of us produce less of this hormone or just want to have more sex.  I think we can all agree that sex with someone you love is amazing, better than amazing and it is what we all strive for, but in the mean time are women just expected to become celibate?  I have been single for over two years, dated a lot of men but I have never been someone’s girlfriend- so am I expected to wait until I am in a serious relationship to have sex? LOL. Can you imagine, I would actually feel sorry for that guy!  Jumping into a relationship to have sex is about the dumbest thing I have ever heard.  I think having a f*ck buddy helps a woman NOT jump into that bad relationship or attach to the wrong guy.  If she is satisfied in the sex department then she can focus on finding a guy who has the qualities that really matter; honesty, loyalty, trustworthiness, kindness, etc… not just attaching to some guy because she had a rush of oxytocin.  Ms Handler was quoted saying she has a “healthy sexual identity.”  I would agree, she knows what she wants and she asks for it on national TV!

Bravo Chelsea Handler for once again saying the things that women think but generally don’t say out loud.  So ladies go forth and find your very own f*ck buddy- be safe and have fun!

Single & Stylish,

xx Keylee

I Wanted Him To Leave Me.

I soon found myself in a grey area, nothing was black or white, just grey and I was more confused than ever.  I was continually bumping into friends that would ask me about my “breakup” and when I gave them just the minimal amount of information needed they would say some version of this; “OMG, I know exactly how you feel, my boyfriend/ husband/wife/ girlfriend cheated on me too!”   Is that what happened?  Was I cheated on?  I had been cheated on before and this is not what that felt like.  In high school my football player boyfriend was cheating on me with one of my good girlfriends and then in college my boyfriends phone accidentally picked up in his pocket and I could hear him making out with another girl.  That was gut wrenching,  each time I ate a bag of potato chips drank too many vodka soda’s and cried with my girlfriends for a week.  That was not what this was.  No amount of chips or vodka was going to fix this.  This felt like I had been ripped apart limb from limb by some medieval torture device and left in the middle of the highway to bleed to death.   I was not, am not, trying to minimize anyone else’s story, being cheated on is awful, horrible, and should be punished by the removal of genitals using only cuticle clippers, but cheating?  That what not what this was.

From my journal:

“Confusion- it’s all I feel.  My head and heart say two different things.  My head knows I can never go back to him and my heart yearns for the life we had and the life I had in my mind.  I am taking it day by day and some days I don’t know if I will make it.  Some days I feel strong, but most all days I am sad.  Sad about the life that won’t be, sad that he is hurting, sad that I am so broken, sad that I assumed things that I don’t know if they are true and then I feel rage.  Rage that I am in this place, rage at myself for not seeing what was in front of me.  I want to hate him, I want him to leave me- that would be easier.”

It was true and I still feel that way.  I wanted him to leave me.   Tell me that he was madly in love with Katy and ride off into the sunset with her. That way I would at least know that someone would be happy, someone would be getting what they wanted and all of this hurt and pain would have had some purpose!  That was not at all what happened, instead it was like a bomb exploded and as I looked around I saw nothing but total destruction of my life.  Everyone was in pain.  For some reason seeing him in pain was one of the hardest parts.  I hadn’t hit the anger stage yet and knowing that he was hurting, even half as much as I was, killed me.  I wanted to hate him, but I didn’t’ want him to hurt.

Having been in LA a week or so I headed back to the mountains to see friends, after a lot of late nights partying and a lot of fun I woke up one day and knew I had to get back to LA and start my life.   I had avoided being a grown for as long as I could.   I had decided I needed to move out of my friends place and try and stand on my own two feet.  I had nothing stable in my life; no work, no home and no relationship.  I was at a tipping point and I knew what I needed to do.  I had to make something in my life stable.  Each time I ran into an old friend in LA they always asked how they could help.  Ninety-nine percent of the time I smiled my fake smile and said “oh nothing, thank you so much for offering, I will be fine.”  When I ran into a friend who was a fabulous Beverly Hills real estate agent at the gym one day and I decided to ask for help.  Soon we were looking at apartments and I started to feel like I could see a small speck of light at the end of a very long dark tunnel.

With in two days I found a fantastic little place in West Hollywood that made me feel like I was living in a hotel suite (my secret dream in life)!  It was a mid-century building and my tiny little slice of heaven over looked the pool surrounded by palm trees. It was a dream.  I could feel myself starting to be a tiny bit settled and that was a wonderful thing.  I didn’t really have much to move; clothes, jewelry and personal items mostly. I asked my husband for my couch and bed that we had moved into the Santa Barbara house when we moved to San Francisco.  He agreed and then proceeded to send the couch and bed to me in an open air pickup truck with two delivery men, my white velvet couch and mattress riding down the highway gathering who knows what!  I was livid but decided it was easier to have them cleaned then to make a big deal about it.  I was just happy and thankful to have furniture.

The next week I made the always-dreaded trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond.   When you had a cart as loaded as mine it was like a large blinking neon sign with an arrow, She’s Starting Over.   As I was standing there picking out a silverware tray for my kitchen drawer it hit me.   It was like that book title that Charlotte, from Sex and The City, is too scared to buy standing in Barnes and Noble; Starting Over Yet Again.  I looked around, surly I wasn’t the only one going through this it’s LA, people start over all the time!   As I looked around to find someone to give me even the slightest bit of comfort I found that on one side was a happy couple registering for there wedding and the other was a beautiful pregnant lady picking out new placemats in spring colors and then there was me… starting over yet again.   We had been separated for months, how is this whole thing still shocking to me?  Somehow it was.  Somehow I had to figure out how to face it all and I would, but that moment was not the moment I was going to face it all with grace.  I started to get choked up, soon my eye were burning.  I knew what was going to happen, I was going to loose it at any moment and their was nothing I could do.  I really needed the items I had in my cart but I could feel the waterworks building up and I could tell it was going to be a hell of a show.  It was like I needed to wear a sign pinned to my shirt so people didn’t think I was just a crazy lady crying in silverware aisle.   It would read “Don’t worry, I am fine, just crying because my husband has a double life.”  But I didn’t have that sign and I was about to be the crazy lady crying in the silverware aisle, before I knew it I was pulling out my sunglasses and ditching my cart practically running to my car.  I sat in my car for about 10 minutes and cried, finally I pulled it together, kept my sunglasses on and went back to find my cart right where I left it!  God bless lazy retail workers that felt no need to put my items back!  Victory!  I had managed to get everything I needed.  Once I got everything packed into my car, I cried the whole way home.

That day was a tiny step in a forward direction.  I knew it was small but it was all I had.  I went home, unloaded my car by myself and sat on my dirty white velvet couch, opened a bottle of wine and ordered Chinese take out.   As I finally fell asleep I repeated over and over in my head; tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day, tomorrow will be a better day…

Single & Stylish,

xx Keylee

The good news about starting over is that you can decorate your new place anyway you like, dirty white couch and all!  Here are a few fun spring items for your home!


*All of the events I have written about in the above and previous posts are about me, my life and my experiences.

© Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.