--Excerpt from LOOKING FOR A FIGHT
(page 6) I arrived at Gleason's boxing gym because I was looking for a fight -- though I didn't know it at the time. Stunned by the recent dissolution of my marriage problems of my marriage, and angry with my ex-husband, I was infuriated to find myself suddenly alone. Worse than that was the knowledge that I was now being perceived by my family and friends as vulnerable, helpless and victimized, someone to be pitied and worried over. My mother, whom I adore, is nonetheless a chronic worrier. She would call me every day and I would be compelled to calm her fears about the future and ignore my own. And though my father said all the right things, I could tell he was thinking he'd have to now step in and take care of me. The fact that I'd supported myself since college seemed to be irrelevant. Single friends would grab my hand and ask if I was OK -- as if I'd contracted a terminal illness. Married friends asked for details to reassure themselves they weren't headed down the same path. "Maybe if you'd had kids " ventured my friend Susan, as if that would have provided a distraction from the far deeper problems of my marriage.