Linda had been married for about 10 years, suffering from numerous health problems and their resulting fertility issues. She lived in a place where the services of a fertility specialist were not free like they are in Canada, so Linda and her husband had to save up for a long time to see a doctor. They both worked extra hours and picked up occasional second jobs to pay for the privilege of maybe getting pregnant.

After eight months of trying, they decided to give the whole thing a break for a while to give Linda's body the chance to recuperate. One day, Linda's fertility specialist called her in for an appointment on her own. Without a clue what could possibly require a solo visit, Linda dutifully went along.

When she arrived, she noticed the doctor was pregnant. When she congratulated her on her pregnancy, there was an awkward silence. It turned out the baby was Linda's husband's. The doctor didn't like being the bearer of bad news, but Linda's husband would be leaving her and marrying the doctor instead.

By the time Linda got home, her husband's things were gone.

It's so easy to think that our divorce is the worst divorce, the hardest divorce, the most acrimonious divorce. Sometimes, though, we hear someone's story and it makes us gasp out loud. Do you have any stories like this one? How are your friends coping?

Have you noticed that every divorced woman you know cut her hair when she separated from her husband? It’s practically an epidemic.

Okay, maybe that’s not entirely true, but divorced women tend to always make some major change to their appearance. Sometimes they dye their hair. Sometimes they lose 80 pounds. Sometimes they start dressing better. Sometimes they start dressing worse.

What is it about the divorce process that causes such radical changes? Is it the alleviation of depression? Is it the arrival of depression? Were our husbands so oppressive that we really, truly couldn’t be ourselves?

I think it’s because we can’t comprehend the level of change we’re going through without making some kind of physical statement. Our psyche needs a physical representation of our internal metamorphosis because just thinking about it isn’t enough. I think it’s like when people experience a spiritual conversion. There’s nothing inherently more spiritual about moving to an ashram in India, but people need to make the change. They need to feel like an active participant in the process.

When I separated from my husband, I cut my hair. Then I cut it again. Then I shaved my head because the pixie cut just wasn’t short enough. I started dressing like a tramp. I stopped dressing like a tramp and started dressing like someone in a Ralph Lauren ad. I’m interested to know if any of you out there made any drastic changes to your appearance when you got divorced? Did you find that it helped?

My mother's first husband has married no fewer than seven women, and that's just the ones that we know of. Every single child born to one of these marriages has been divorced at least once.

Like everything else that seems to run in families, I have to wonder if this predilection towards failed marriages is due to nature or nurture. Is my inability to hold a marriage together as genetic as my green eyes and thick waist? Or is it just that I wouldn't know a marital role model if I fell over one?

Sometimes I wonder if it's a good idea for me to marry again. I wonder if I'm qualified for the position of wife. I see the marital problems of the people around me and my first suggestion is that they shouldn't be married to each other. In my defense, I judiciously keep this suggestion to myself.

I see the fighting and the passive aggression and the nagging and I think, "Is this what you signed up for?"

My partner and I have been dating for four years now, and we have only fought once. I think that we will be happy over the long haul, but I wonder if we can do it. His parents have been married since dinosaurs walked the earth, so I know he can.

It's me I worry about.

What do you think? Is divorce genetic?