Sunday will never be the same

My P.O. box recently spat forth a package containing copies of my article that appeared in London's Mail on Sunday's You magazine at the end of April. Click the image above to read the piece. The editor took some liberties, mostly in Brit-ifying the language. (Did you know that an "out" in Britain, as in, "You have an 'out' of this contract," is called a "get-out"? I didn't.) Even so, I'm very happy with the way it came out overall. Apparently my February outfit used up the fabric quota for the entire magazine; the pages following my piece featured the usual impossibly long-limbed, poreless models in teeny bikinis.

Appropriately enough, the photo was taken by a male on Sunday. Getty Images photographer Shaul Schwarz wanted to photograph me in a church, but settled for Grand Central Terminal when I explained that it would be disrespectful (if not downright crass) to do so. He used no lighting save for a flash, which explains why my blue eyes look strangely dark.

My smile is for my then-boyfriend; I asked him to come along to the shoot as inspiration. He did his job beautifully. When Schwarz photographed me outside, having me remove my bulky leather coat in 30-degree weather, my sweetheart kept me smiling by telling me to "offer it up."

The last paragraph of the article is poignant in light of the relationship's end. It really was a "highway to heartbreak." Perhaps the biggest thing I learned from it was that there didn't have to be a moral to the story. What I carried away from the experience was not as important as how I dealt with it. Once again, offering it up has proven to be the best route to a smile — though it's taken a little longer to achieve the desired result this time around.

(P.S. to souls in purgatory: You can thank me later ...)