In the meantime, I realized I had gone hogwild with my newfound spending power. I felt guilty that my family was still struggling while I was living the high life so carelessly. I canceled my blowout appointments, reclaiming my curly hair. It was a first tentative step. I was trying desperately to find a middle ground between the scruffy student I had been and the shopaholic trophy wife I had become.
My friends are still shocked by how much I've changed: my more polished appearance, the fact that I know Bergdorf salespeople by name, my love of domestic life. I think they miss the crowd-surfing, dreadlocked Nicole. But then I remember I'm happier this way. Somewhere along the line, I grew comfortable with my new life.
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From the beginning, I’d loved the whiff of stability being with David seemed to promise.
Before him, my life was as messy as I was. Dating and marrying an older, more established man was just what I needed to grow into myself—though that doesn't mean I always recognize her.
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Last week he took me to a Prada sale, where I spotted a raincoat I liked. "Do you need it?" he asked. "What's need?" I replied with a smirk.