Dating after divorce can be a wonderful new beginning, but everyone approaches it differently. Below is a list I came up with to describe various divorced gals dating styles I've observed over the years.

Ladies, you will find that you may fit in to more than one category. Some of you will even transition back and forth between categories at any given time. Let me know if I've missed any. Gentlemen, which of these gals have you dated?

Hopefully this will help you understand better who might be sitting across from you the next time, too.

Damaged Daters You don't trust anyone anymore with your heart. You've been burned. You are not so quick to jump back into another relationship, but you go anyway because you think you are supposed to at least try. Your cynical vibes smell defensive and stink up the room. Wear extra perfume.

I Don't Care Daters You are not interested. You're energy is focused elsewhere. You need time to to find out who you are. You go just because someone's very nice but you really don't care, but you don't let him know you don't care. He doesn't pick up you don't care so he calls you again and you go again..even though you don't care.

I Just Want To Sleep With You and Not Really Talk to You Daters Your hormones are swinging and you're going to try and act the way you think some men act, and just use someone for sex. You want this person to treat you like they care about you, even though you don't really care about them. You are loving the fact that you never expect a call, and call them when they least expect it. Woo Hoo!
Sneaky Daters -You don't really want anyone to know who you are dating or where you are going. You go out of your way to find "out of the way" meeting locations and rely heavily on GPS. You are shady with family and friends who suspect you are 'seeing someone" but have no idea who. This can go on for years.

Yesterday in NYC I was walking briskly along with a businessgal buddy when the oddest thing happened. I hooked a man — literally.

I was carrying a suit bag filled filled with clothes on hangers over my left arm as we yapped our way down the street.

An older gentleman and his wife were walking past us in the opposite direction. They obviously passed too close and somehow my hangars hooked on the husband, and yanked me backwards after him.

I was trying to unhook myself from him but his wife thought I was intentionally molesting him and was pulling him away from me yelling, "He's mine!"

She obviously didn't see the hanger.

Strangely, the same thing had happened just three minutes before with a construction guy as I was crossing the street. That one almost cost me a two by four to the head.

So here's what I discovered: You can literally hook a man on the street.

Now I just have to work on my aim.

This is the story of how last night I landed in that 100,000 degree yoga class I swore I would never go to. How I made it through without waking up to the eyes of a paramedic I will never know.

It was 6 pm. I just got off the train from NYC and was heading to my suburban NYSC gym for a spin class when I got a call from Vi, my gym buddy. Vi said, Joann (her sister and my other gym buddy) wanted to try the 7:30 Bikram yoga instead — that they were having some trial special.

Not the hot yoga? I asked. Yup, that's the one. I had to pull over. This did not sound appealing. I wanted to say no, but I said yes. My high heels were killing me and I needed coffee first, so I stopped at Starbucks. First problem. You never drink coffee before hot yoga. The woman at the desk looked horrified when I walked in with the cup. It raises your heart rate she said.

Now I'm horrified, since this seems like a very bad thing right now. You didn't eat recently, did you? she asked. Well, I did not get the memo on yoga protocol between the train and the class, so yes, I just had a banana shake on the train that was one of the four meals allowed on my Diets4idiots first day.

I now notice that people are practically naked sitting in the hallway and I am already feeling hot. Has anyone ever died in here? I pay, grab my towel, and head to change and some girl yells that I am not allowed to walk in there in heels. We don't want pebbles in our mouths she said. Pebbles in our mouths????? Holy Zen. Second infraction...you need to leave your shoes at the door. Good thing they don't give out yoga tickets.

My girlfriend just emailed me and asked if I had "blog block." Yup guess that's it. A name for my condition. I didn't realize it was an official condition till just now.

You may have noticed the date of my last post. So what — you ask — have I been doing?

Well...everything you could possibly imagine and some stuff you wouldn't even believe.

Lately I have only two speeds — GO and PASS OUT — and I maximize every hour of the day I am blessed with.

Funny, I write all day long in my head but apparently my head and my hands have not been communicating. I assume that would translate into Blocked- Head as opposed to Blockhead which is so unfeminine....

So I am in search of the antidote to Blog Block and I aspire to my next post — shortly.

Debbie

Marriage is wonderful when it works. Everyone is looking for a happily ever after.

But marriage takes energy, and these days average couples are working harder than ever to keep a marriage together, so you can imagine the challenge for a couple in the limelight, like Star Jones and Al Reynolds.

Someone told me they overheard Star on a plane a couple months ago saying that she and her husband had not even been in the same city over the last few months.

Can't blame the airlines for this long a layover.

For reasons only Star and Al know, one or more things along the way changed up their original gameplan for their version of..."happily ever after." I don't think she had that big wedding with the intention of getting divorced...getting a few freebies, maybe.

No one has a wedding with the intention of getting divorced. No one should judge, though people due to human nature cannot help themselves. Like Star said, "The dissolution of a marriage is a difficult time in anyone's life that requires privacy with one's thoughts."

Regardless of who files for divorce, it's painful and awkward for everyone involved.

There will be some other version of "happily ever after" for her and for him.

Though it's hard to imagine at the time, usually events that force change often bring you to a stronger better place — sometimes just a stronger arm — but hey, that also works.

Everyone who goes through divorce has another version of "happily ever after" within their reach.

I will always know when it's Ivana Trump's new wedding anniversary, because I got married on the same day — April 12th. Difference is, I'm no longer married — thus the date no longer applies to me.

But the date does still exist, and every year all the faded, happy wedding day memories rush back and linger for 24hrs, along with a feeling that makes me a little queasy. It's kind of like the feeling you get on the birthday of someone you once loved who is dead. The wedding anniversary that no longer exists. A surreal event that you and your ex remember silently, privately, in separate new worlds on that day every year... Gone... Poof!... except for the wedding photo album which you have stashed away — somewhere.

So, while Ivana was getting married to her scandalously young fourth husband in Palm Beach (gotta love her), I celebrated Her/Our anniversary with my brother's kids at a Japanese restaurant, followed by a big sleepover at my house. My daughter (who was out with her boyfriend) came home late and woke me up off the floor where I fell asleep, discussing the meaning of life with a 9 year-old.

Last night I went to one of the now recurring High School girlfriend gatherings at PF Chang's up in Stamford, Ct.

Remember what they said about Catholic HS girls? Well they were right — only we are much worse now. Only kidding — not really — half-kidding...geez we love to laugh.

Anyway, there's a pretty diverse group: Some married forever, with kids without kids, some divorced, and some have just stayed solo. Oh yeah, and one honorary husband who can't get enough of us. The group grows every time we convince someone through a chain of frenzied emails to locate someone from our past and convince them they are missing out on all the fun.

For years, when I was struggling as a single mom gone awry, I wouldn't show up. Then one day I was glad I did, and the unconditional girlfriend friendship convinced me to do it again and again.

Last night, one of the "lifelong solo" girls, having recently launched Mr. Wrong, announced she bought herself a boat. I suggested we give her a "boat shower". Solo gals get ripped off. They never get the payback benefit of all those bridal and baby showers they've paid into.

So it's done. The "boat shower" is in the works. We're just waiting for her to register at some marine shop so we don't all show up with the same little dinghys.

Hi guys,

I am on the way to Rhode Island. The love for First Wives World and all that we represent continues. We got a call last week from a company which produces features that air on hundreds of TV stations wanting to do a story. So, today is the day and I am on my way.

It's a one day trip and I have five jackets, six hair contraptions, four pairs of shoes, an arsenal of make up, my computer, phone and a plethora of plugs and chargers. This is one of those days it might have been nice to have had a "better half" who might have convinced me I didn't need half this stuff.

But then again, the "better half" might have wanted to come along and drive, and if there's one thing I don't miss it's begging someone to make a pit stop or two... or three... or four...

Love,

Debbie Nigro, First Wives World's Chief Executive Girlfriend

Yesterday, I was about to leave my door to our Debbie Does Divorce live taping at The Heartland Brewery in the Empire State Building in NYC when Fran, my trusty right hand, takes a look at me in my brand new suit and blurts out, "Oh No". Oh No...is not a good thing to hear when you're rushing out the door. Oh No what? "You still have the security sensor on your jacket!" I felt a wave of nausea coming on.

I was so proud I had spent Sunday buying myself something fresh and springy to wear. I rarely lay everything out the night before to go anywhere, but I was so impressed with myself I just had to. There it was, a cream/brown combo linen suit with matching necklace, earrings, new shoes, and even a watch to match the belt.

There is no other outfit in my closet at this moment. How did I miss this? How did I get out of the store? How did I not feel this gigantic plastic contraption under my left armpit. Now what? Find the receipt and try and figure out if anyone closer than the original store could remove it. Ever try and get a security tag removed at a gas station? I rarely get totally annoyed, but there are exceptions.... thus the moment I blasted back through the front door of the original store where I whipped off my coat and held up my arm to show the store manager where to perform the security surgery. Needless to say she was embarrassed. I did call first to let her know I was fully dressed, could not change, and I would be coming back in through the security sensor... which by the way, did not go off. Somebody there better call security.

Do you know of, or are you part of, a couple who are divorcing but can't move because you can't sell your home? Please let me know immediately as we are interested in speaking to you!

Contact: [email protected]

Thank You,

Debbie Nigro,

Chief Executive Girlfriend, First Wives World