This morning a group of coworkers was discussing someone who worked in our branch years ago. The lead person was playing, "Do you remember when?" and none of us could remember the person he was describing.

To my amusement, the person being described was my former husband. I never thought I would truly be allowed to move past, "She's his wife" and the resultant snickers. Seems everyone but me knew he was/is a skirt chaser, a womanizer. I was so naive and trusting, I never even looked at what I could have seen in front of me, since we both worked for the same organization.

It's wonderful to be in a place mentally and emotionally where all that is in the past and pretty much irrelevant. Now no one at work describes me as anyone but myself. Not someone's wife, someone's sister, someone's mother, but me myself. Men pretty much grow up in that space; women have to achieve it later in life. And it's enjoyed all the more for having been later in achievement.

I define myself in terms of my accomplishments, values and life events. It's very seldom now that in a social setting I am introduced as "Norm's wife." And when I am, I step up and shake hands and introduce myself properly. Norm's wife, indeed. As if I were property.