About a year and a half ago, the hedge fund I worked at shut down. I worked with the same group of people for three and a half years, and they became almost like a second family.

They were there for all of the changes that occurred in my life, from Steve and I moving in together, to getting engaged and finally to planning my wedding. During those years, I experienced so many things, and they were witness to the majority of them.

Although we don’t work together anymore, we all meet for Happy Hour every six months to catch up, keep in touch and stay connected to each other. Prior to our most recent get-together, I was dreading the question I knew they would all ask: “When are you and Steve planning to have children?” For most people, that question isn't the most appropriate, but it seems that people ask it regardless — especially people that you have worked with for such a prolonged period of time.

I arrived at the bar a bit late, since I got stuck at work, and was a bit relieved that the gossip train had already made it’s way there. I was spared the question, but was asked many more, since they had basically been there for the majority of my relationship with Steve.

They wanted to know what happened, whether I was okay, whether Steve had cheated. They were questions that I really hadn’t had to answer in months, since the people that I surround myself with all know the answers. I felt like I was on the witness stand, but I knew that they were just making sure that I was holding up well.

I’m happy that I am a survivor and am able to take these things in stride. And most importantly, I am happy for my ability to hold my head up high and be okay with the events that have occurred in my life.

I went to the gym Monday night. I was lifting weights, listening to my iPod, in my own little world. All of a sudden, I looked up, and through the mirror I saw Jon, the guy from the wedding.

He waved, I waved, and then he walked over to the treadmill to run while I continued to work out. I figured he'd at least come over and say hello, considering he left my hotel room 36 hours before.

Maybe he didn't want to interrupt me. Maybe I caught him off guard. Maybe he had a bad day at work and just wanted to sweat it out. We both work in finance, and market conditions have been tense, so anything could be possible.

I didn't look my best, but I definitely didn't look terrible enough for him to think "Hmmm, that's not what she looked like in a dress." I mean he did see me without makeup when he stayed over!

I don't know if I'm upset. I personally hate talking to people at the gym, since it extends my time there way too much.

My friends have different opinions. Some say that if he was really interested, he would've come over. Others say they hate talking to people at the gym, so they don't blame him. The rest say it could be either of those, plus a million others.

I thought we had a fun time together. We definitely had great chemistry, and I know he was attracted to me even after he knew he wasn't getting in my pants that night.

Sometimes, I feel too old to be wondering what someone else's motives are. I guess thinking "I'm sure he'll call, since he works with my friend" and "He wouldn't have asked for my number if he wasn't planning on using it" doesn't really provide credibility anymore.

It seems no matter how old I get, the motto "boys will be boys" will always hold true.

At work yesterday, one of my co-workers came over to talk to me. Although we had briefly been introduced when I started, he sits in the back away from where I sit and we didn't really have an opportunity to talk to one another. You'd think it was two different companies since I never see the IT Group, Accounting or Operations groups.

We started a conversation about real estate and how living in Manhattan eats away at your savings and that you can do so much more by living in the ‘burbs. He lives in Connecticut and informed me that he moved there about a year ago after he and his wife got divorced. We then had a conversation about divorce rates skyrocketing and how his marriage lasted less than three years.

I commented, offered my opinions, mentioned my friends who are divorced, yet I never uttered the words "me too!" I felt like a fraud for not opening up that I was separated since my new colleague was sharing things about his life with me. It was nothing personal, but for some reason, I just wasn't ready to divulge anything about my life.

I'm on a fresh start and feel that discussing my current situation would be taking two steps backward; I have already come so far. I'm sure when the time is right, I will tell my story but right now, I like the fact that I'm just the new person at work and no one knows anything more than what I tell them. I sometimes feel like I'm an imposter. Have any of you felt this way?

I just started a new job... yes, the one I interviewed for five times! Aside from the new job jitters, I was excited to be starting fresh at a company that doesn't know who Steve is, doesn't know who Michelle Newman is and doesn't know the history of the past 6 1⁄2 years of my life. I'm now the mistress of my own destiny and the creator of my past. It's kind of like a guilty pleasure and it's quite empowering and liberating.

Now, since starting a family is no longer in the picture at this point in time, my career is my number one priority. I left an uninspiring job and an unfulfilling marriage. I've been given a second chance and hope that this is the start of something wonderful. But as much as having a clean slate is all I want right now, it's difficult pretending the past 6 1⁄2 years didn't happen. It's normal to talk to work people about family, especially when you sit on an open trading desk and know more about your coworkers than you normally would by sitting in an office by yourself.

I called my brother Eric and asked him for his Social Security number. He asked what I needed it for and I said, "well, do you want to be my beneficiary or not?" He laughed and said "I forgot...Steve's out and I'm back in!" Eric and I were always each other's beneficiaries and he knows that I have created a pretty decent portfolio. I received an e-mail from my office manager asking for my "In Case of Emergency" contact. Steve, my ex, had been mine and I thought that he would always be my "person." I responded with my mother's information, swallowed the lump in my throat and hit "send." At least I know that my new "person" will never leave me.

Interviewing for a new job is such a frustrating process. After taking a week to just relax and have "me time," something I haven't done since my separation, I started to do freelance wedding planning.

I needed some time to figure out if I could make the transition from finance to event planning, something that I've always wanted to do. Although realistically a salary cut isn't an option for me since I only have one income now and the same amount of bills that I had when Steve and I still lived together.

During one of my recent interviews, I was asked the question, "Do you think you are lucky?" Of course I said "yes," since it was an interview. I've had wonderful opportunities in my career, although the company I thought I'd work for forever shut down a year ago.

On one hand, I've maintained a great network and keep in touch with almost everyone I've ever worked for. But on the other hand, I'm not really able to do, careerwise, what I'm passionate about. But how would I have answered that question if it was posed in a different situation?

On a personal level, am I lucky? I guess I was lucky to have found love. I'm lucky that I'm able to have a relatively easy divorce since we don't have any children, and I guess I'm lucky that I'm still young enough to think of this as just a bad breakup.

But on the other hand, I question why this happened to me. Why wasn't I one of the lucky ones to find lasting love? Why do I have to go through this? Of course the thought "what did I ever do to deserve this" goes through my head. How could it not? I was never one of those girls who was constantly in a relationship and I didn't rush into getting married.
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I had my work going-away party the other day. Two of the girls that I work with and I arrived at the bar first and we started to talk about weddings since one of them is getting married. She looked down at my hands and asked me where my rings were, not realizing that I haven’t worn them in three months.

So I told my co-workers that Steve and I were separated. At first they thought I was joking around but soon realized that I wasn’t. I always kept my personal life personal at work and didn’t want my boss to find reasons to prove that I was making mistakes, when in fact I wasn’t.

I work in a very difficult work environment at a small financial company where the word “stress” is an understatement. I figured since I was leaving my job, I really didn’t care anymore about keeping my “secret” since I'm not ashamed or embarrassed by what I went through and am still going through.

I actually am quite proud of myself that I was able to go to work every day, pretend that all was good, and complete my daily responsibilities with my head up and a smile plastered on my face. I was cool, calm and collected and only took off one day of work during this whole ordeal on the day that Steve moved out.

More of the group came to meet us and slowly they all were in on the conversation as well. My boss made an appearance, which was a bit surprising since, and he asked me if I was going to take off time “to have babies." I was flabbergasted that someone would actually think a comment like that would be appropriate.

Is that what he thinks women are supposed to do with their lives, rather than focus on a career? So, I felt that is was the perfect opportunity to tell him that I was actually going to take some “me time” since I am going through a divorce and wanted to figure out exactly what I want to do with my life.

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My name truly defines me. I’ve just always been Michelle Rosenthal.

Aside from the wedding invitations addressed to “Mr. & Mrs. Steve XXXX”, my friends never changed my maiden name in their phones or on their e-mail messages or introduced me using my married name.

I was always in the “scene” and the social leader of my group. I picked the places we went, had all of the connections to avoid waiting in lines and bartended at some of the most fun bars in New York City and Westchester County. I have a big group of friends.

Somehow my parents believed me when I said I was going out for “coffee” when I began bartending my senior year of high school! I have a brother that was popular, especially with my friends, and an enviable contact list.

I come from a close-knit family. My last name ends with my brother, unless he has a son. I’ve always been Michelle Rosenthal and was against changing my name. But when I got married, changing my name was important to Steve. Of course I felt as if someone were asking for my unborn child when he asked when I was going to change my name already.

I can’t explain the connection I feel to my last name but it’s just part of who I am. I’ve built my reputation using my name: I completed my education with my name; I’ve succeeded in my career using my name. Hello? I've accomplished most of the memorable things in my life using my name!

I’m proud of who I am and all that I’ve done. For me, taking my husband’s name made me feel like I was losing a part of that. The day Steve moved out, I changed everything back.

I called my friend and my Caller ID popped up as “Rosenthal”. “You don’t waste any time, do you?” she said. Next step was the Dept. of Motor Vehicles and changing all of my credit cards.

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