3 Reasons to be Grateful for “Failed” Relationships

relationships_2When it comes to love, it is clear that society as a whole sees longevity as the ultimate goal in a relationship. Endurance and even stubborn tenacity are viewed as the signs of “success” or indicators of a quality partnership. In fact, for those of us who have had several long-term relationships throughout our adult lives, they have named us perpetrators of “serial monogamy.” It sounds like a crime or mortal sin, punishable by a lifetime of assumptions about instability and emotional baggage.

But what if those of us who have “tried, tried again” when it comes to love, know something special because of our ability to get back on that horse and chase after a different setting sun?

I have given this a lot of thought, as a person who survived two 4-year engagements and 1 clusterfuck of an 18-month rebound. Now, I recognize that I’m 36 years old and able to stand back and say, “You know, that was pretty ugly at times, but I’m grateful.” I look at my current fiancee and challenge myself about this rare feeling I have: It feels alien-like really… to envision an actual, sustainable, no-nonsense, adventurous, and aligned future with someone who doesn’t see me as a stepping stone to their healing, an obstacle to their goals, or a season in their ever-changing personal journey.

Can you see that so-called “baggage” coming through my words already? Go ahead… ask yourselves this: “Why was I ever with someone who saw me as a stepping stone, obstacle or season?”

The truth is, for those of us who are serial monogamists, we know the answer, but we’re afraid to tell you. If we tell you “why” we are susceptible to being a chapter in someone else’s love story, we may become victim to attracting a changing tide instead of the whole ocean of possibility that healthy love can offer.

But I’ll take the risk, on behalf of us all… and I will tell you why we allow for this… after I walk you through the 3 Reasons we are learning to be grateful for these seasons of love that others call “failed” relationships:

Grateful Reason # 1: Resilience is our Middle Name

relationshpis_Luna_CaterpillarIt takes a lot to start dating again after a woman tells you that you are the love of her life and she has never met anyone who knows her the way you do… then she leaves you a week before your wedding invitations arrive from the print shop. It takes a lot to believe in love again after a lover tells you that you are the person who completes her and she cannot imagine her life without you… then she calls off her proposal of marriage. It takes a lot to believe in the goodness of relationships after a girlfriend tells you that your friendship means the world to her and she would never jeopardize it… then she cheats on you.

What women can do, to women, to men… to anyone – seems criminal. I can’t even begin to imagine being bisexual and feeling like both sexes are available for these emotional lawbreaking activities. Men equally do this to women – I have no doubt.

But ask the serial monogamist if they still believe in love and somewhere inside of theirrelationships_3_luna_moth broken hearts lie this regenerating caterpillar who still expects that love can remain hidden in a safe cocoon and emerge into this magnificent butterfly or moth. We can be shaken but we are built to last. We are the Energizer Bunnies of intimacy and we have no intention of letting someone ruin us for the one who matters… if you are lucky enough to fall in love with us, we are piece of coal that is living under the pressure of failed relationships and a judgmental society until you prove yourself worthy of our trust… then the shine begins to make its way to the surface.

We sparkle.

We cannot be broken.

And we know how to handle the pressure of disappointment better than those who have had love delivered to their doorsteps on silver platters of good timing and cosmic arrangements.

Grateful Reason # 2: Time is on our Side

dating-2Some of my favorite memories of time spent with my wife-to-be are the conversations around moonlight or candlelight, when I could tell she was falling in love with me but I was cautiously sitting back and waiting… not playing games, not sending mixed messages, but with a patience I was sure I had failed to execute before, with such precision, I waited for the dust of infatuation to settle. Meeting new people is like shaking up a snow globe of romance and at first, there is nothing but a flurry of meetings we call dates or hang-out encounters where we attempt to interview for the position of girlfriend, partner or lover. There is a real treasure in being with someone who will feel their fire of passion for you but not show it right away… because when the critic of romance sees that you are still there, still smitten and not nearly as naive as you let on, the critic becomes the biggest fan of dreaming. Idealism erupts like a geyser and not only has the foundation for trust been laid, there is once again, the belief that this “thing” called love, is going somewhere. We who have “failed” may not rush nearly as much… not because “this time, we want to be sure” (because duh, we always say that), but because there’s nowhere we need to be other than right here in the moment. It’s all we know to trust anymore and in life, not only is that resilient, is refreshing to be around, isn’t it? First dates with serial monogamists may not include sky-diving or sex-capades, but you’re going to be in the kind of experience that can lead to bricks and mortar-style intimacy. We know we are going to put in our time… and we are okay with that, most of the time. 😉

Grateful Reason # 3: There are no Eggs, There is no Basket.

[youtube_sc url=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qKn7XAMNV-g”%5D

The art of detachment is one which comes with many heartbreaks. It doesn’t mean we can’t commit and it doesn’t mean that with time and trust, we can’t show up for the joyful surrender that love can be in a committed partnership. (again) I admit that having been in 8+ years of relationships has left me with scars. I thank two partners and one girlfriend for those scars though… because now I do not put all my eggs in one basket, as they say. I do not expect my wife to “complete” any part of me that I cannot already heal on my own. I do not look to her to do for me what I cannot do for myself. I do not expect her to handle me with special care or do anything even similar to a parent or even a confidant. She is not my playmate and she will not become my pacifier. She is my… friend. My very dear, beautiful, sexy, mindful, brilliant… friend.

Rather than saying that “there’s no one like her,” or fill my or her head with platitudes of “meant to be,” I found myself agreeing with my mom who said, after meeting her, “I can see why you want her as a friend… for the rest of your life.”

And this, my lovelies, is how we learn to re-frame the past in order to find a new sound, a new wave, and maybe even a new heart. It helps that when this lover says she loves me, she says it in Spanish sometimes… because the words, “I love you,” are well beyond over-used…

In the end, our baggage is our baggage, but we are grateful because we aren’t committed to our expectations anymore. (Well, except that expectation of loss that creeps in when we are too happy, but that’s why there are counselors 😉 ) By now, we have dated/married or committed to people of various incomes, education, spiritual background, ethnicity, sexual expression or even gender identity. The serial monogamist has seen it all! (And believe me, if you want to really learn something, ask the polyamorous!) I know that couples who married someone at 20 years old and stayed together until their 70’s know things we don’t know, but it’s time we stop selling ourselves short for “failing.”

In fact, isn’t that why we fail?

Let’s get to that point, as promised…

What about our “baggage” and this “pattern” of being in relationships that don’t work out? What is the achilles heel of the man or woman who seems to attracts lessons out of lovers?

The answer is that we are a vulnerable hot mess. The reason that we were willing to be with people who see us as stepping stones, obstacles, or seasons is because we have been unable/unwilling to truly love ourselves and the outcomes we seek.

Shit, it’s out there now, isn’t it?

The problem is we love our lovers more than our goals.

We love our partners even, more than our problems.

We love our would-be-spouses more than the self in the mirror.

But together, as we learn to see the value in these “failed” relationships, we begin to apply principles of self-love and eventually I believe we will attract the type of person we actually can spend more than four years with as a couple…

I’m banking on it, actually.

Because if 8+ years of “failed relationships” provided me with anything, it’s success at being myself. This is a priceless gift that many never figure out…

Succeed at being you.

Mr. or Ms. Right may do better than sweep you off your feet… this person will beautifully support you in keeping both feet on the ground when you need it or walk patiently through the muddy and sometimes unfamiliar path of partnership. Be grateful for their past as they are ever-so grateful for you, in their present.

Namaste, my friends… and to my lovely wife-to-be… please continue to mirror that beautiful hope that I remember so well, the first and second times around… third time is more than my lucky charm. It’s the pot of gold at the end of a double rainbow filled with butterflies, endless cliches, and so much pink glitter, we can hardly stand it. Te amo…


DSC_0354Gail is an author, poet, blogger and activist whose new book, Enlightened-ish chronicles her spiritual awakening experience after witnessing a suicide, grieving her father’s unexpected death and leaving a spiritual community. Her first book, “Coming Out of the Closet without Coming Apart at the Seams” was published in 2004. Gail has appeared in FOX DC News,SkyNews and Our America with Lisa Ling as an advocate for ex-gay survivors and young people. Her freelance work has appeared in God Allows U-Turns, Encounter Magazine and Outlook Weekly. “For Gail So Loved the World” is her blog, where she discusses spirituality, politics and social and emotional intelligence from a global perspective. Her spoken word pieces and drumming meditations are available on YouTube and she schedules private speaking engagements where these performances are shared. Gail is the only lesbian known to hold a Bachelor’s Degree from Cincinnati Christian University. Currently, Gail resides in the Washington, DC Area and serves her local community as the Executive Director of a nature-based early learning center.

A New Way to Talk about the Ex… An Enlightened-ish Response to Breaking Up

Let’s talk about our exes… and try not to bash their inability to accept us as we are or love us the way we needed.

Let’s talk about what it is in us that welcomed them into our lives, even when we got signs that they didn’t value our differences or celebrate our unique ways of looking at the world.

Let’s talk about how they were intimidated by us but we allowed for it.

Let’s talk about how we knew we weren’t getting our needs met either, but we stayed out of a stubborn need to try harder.

Let’s talk about how, in the end, we didn’t love ourselves enough to choose better partners, lovers, spouses.

Let’s talk about exes… and realize that what was really lost was an outdated version of ourselves that we don’t want anymore anyway.

Relationship 2.0, 4.0, 8.0… it doesn’t matter, as long as you know that the updated version involves upgrades to your emotional and psychological hardware, then you are on a path that leads to wholeness.

On your temporary path of singleness or long journey towards marriage, let’s heal by talking about these 3 things:

Break-up-lines1. It’s Complicated. It ended because it was complicated. It’s always complicated. There are no easy break-ups, even when a couple tries to remain friends. There are as many reasons as there are excuses. If love wasn’t complicated, how would it know how to prepare your coffee but forget your anniversary? How would it know just what to say when you’re crying but constantly nag you about your clutter? How would it keep you warm on a cold night but sometimes give you the coldest stare mid-day? It was love. It didn’t last, but it was… love. Complicated love. Two words that are often times, synonymous.

2. It’s human. She’s not an asshole, even if she did cheat. He’s not a jerk, even if he didn’t Break_Up_Cardsupport you in your career. She’s not a cold bitch, even if she did lack emotional intelligence with you. He’s not obsessed with himself, even if he did spend more time with his friends than you. It was human… what did we expect? Take off the rose-colored glasses. We all played our human parts to the best of our abilities.

3. It’s over, but it left a mark. Her words left a scar. Good. You won’t ever let someone talk to you like that again. His dismissal was unforgivable. Good. You will never be in a thoughtless relationship again. You will never forget what it felt like to be alone in a relationship. Good…

breakups-repeatingWe know better how to do it right.

We know better what we need.

We know better who we are…

And we know what we’re talking about now.

All is well.

Namaste, broken-hearted. We bind our wounds when we know how to talk about our exes by empowering ourselves to make better choices, affirm stronger boundaries and celebrate that we are lovable.

To have and to hold… but never too closely, because Light is designed to move faster than Love…

[youtube_sc url=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8eB64pXoGU”%5D

P.S. I dedicate this to my former partners and anyone who considers themselves an ex… truth be told, you never knew me, because I didn’t know me. If I did, I wouldn’t have stayed so long. May you feel love, knowing that what was meant to be, was… for as long as it was necessary for us to learn that we deserved better in a relationship. You deserve someone who would never let herself be treated the way I allowed you to treat me. Wishing you a love without fear, with affirming boundaries and… a life far, far away from mine Seriously. No regrets… just… no repeats either 😉

The “De-churched” – How to Talk to Us

Some people have found progressive communities of faith in which they feel comfortable, connected and cared for, while some of us have been so wounded by the leaders of organized Christianity, that we simply cannot and do not attend.

I’m a Bible College graduate. I was a youth minister for years and a pastor as well.

I know what they label us.

They call us the “de-churched.”

It’s always a hot topic really and the more a person surrenders their autonomy on their spiritual path, the more intense the discussion becomes! Those who have found comfort in remaining a part of Christianity or progressive faith communities celebrate that they feel comfortable in their congregations and they act as though they have stumbled upon a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

church_FireBut some of us have found that each effort to engage in Christianity ends with a slammed door, a crossed boundary or a judgmental word. I have found this each time I have attempted to rejoin Christianity and either I have really bad luck finding socially and emotionally intelligent Christian groups (or leaders) or I am just not destined to be a part of any organized Christian-based community. (Or a 3rd option I have yet to discover).

I share this not only because I think it’s hard for some of us to leave… but because what complicates our recovery is how some of those who “stay” treat those of us who left.

Sometimes they talk to us like we gave up.

Sometimes they try to recruit us to reform. (Does the analogy of a bad marriage help? Not everyone is called to stay with an abusive spouse and help them heal after every beating.)

Some of us leave because we don’t want to suffer anymore.

Some of us leave because it is well with our souls to do so.

Some of us have turned the cheek too many times and now have endless scars and can’t proceed with this form of faith.

Some of us still really dig Jesus, but have been shown over and over, that Christian does not = Christ-like.

It’s a sad reality, but it is our reality.

So, let us be.

Don’t tell us how awesome your church is – that’s your story.

Don’t tell us how to forgive – that’s your process.

Don’t tell us why it’s important to be in community – that’s your value.

Don’t tell us the church needs our unique voice – that’s your cause.

Tell us it doesn’t matter where we go Sunday mornings or Wednesday nights… because we are loved, just as we are and nothing about church membership or group-based spirituality will change that.

Tell us we matter.

And then walk with us…

walk_with_me_lhi_poster_1Like Jesus would.

And maybe that will lead some of us back to your churches…

Or maybe we will find that nature, the coffee shop, the movie theater and the community food bank feel more like church anyway…

So, in short, don’t talk to the de-churched…

Walk with the non-church goer.

Our stories are legitimate.

Our faith is real.

Our lives are whole.

We aren’t broken just because it doesn’t work for us to be in church.

And you aren’t whole because it works for you…

We become whole when we allow for differences, celebrate individuality and find cooperative ways to love mercy, do justly and walk… humbly.

Understanding the “Other”

Much of my professional and personal life revolves around supporting others (and myself) different_1through a discussion of social/emotional intelligence and spiritual awakening. The convergence of these topics has quickly become one of my greatest joys because it requires me to look at the “other” as a part of me. Rather than assuming someone else is less than or even better than, I consider that I am both autonomous and somehow an integration of all things…

Why yes, this does sound like a hippie way to live. (And no, I’m not old enough to receive official hippie status. Darn 😉 ).

However, it is more than hippie talk. I call it “homospirituality” (same-spirit attraction) and truly believe that there is a way for us to engage in community and conflict without infringing upon an individual’s personal journey. (For recent footage of my vulnerable and somewhat “revealing” ownership of this process, see this post. Man, that heart of mine belly-flopped, didn’t it? Doh). My utopia is a bit frustrating, since most of the time I feel like an alien. But, I recognize that this incessant and quite adolescent need to be “different” has drawn us to degrees of separation that burn away the ability to connect deeply, meaningfully and with a level of passion and commitment that inspires.

So today, I pose the following list of “others” that we think exist in our world… consider this list while embracing your individuality while seeking to understand the “other:”

The fatherless child doesn’t understand the other child whose Dad is always there.

The Dad who is always there doesn’t understand the other child who feels suffocated by his father’s constant presence.

The childless woman doesn’t understand the other woman who grieves the birth of a sick baby.

The mother of a sick baby doesn’t understand the other woman who grieves the inability to adopt.

The infertile man doesn’t understand the other dad who yells at his son on a camping trip.

The angry father doesn’t understand the other man because he personally never wanted a family.

The working family doesn’t understand the other family who spends more on vacations than it can afford because that is the only time they see one another.

The single income family who doesn’t understand the other family who spends more on childcare than it can afford because they trust the village to raise the child.

The married couple doesn’t understand the other person whose singleness leaves them lonely.

The single person doesn’t understand the other person whose marriage leaves them lonely.

The believer doesn’t understand the other believer who doesn’t seek a savior to feel whole.

The other believer doesn’t understand… the other believer… who doesn’t believe that there is the other…

Confused yet?

Good… because the other… understands what it feels like to be outsider.

The other… understands what it feels like to be misunderstood.

And that, is what we have in common.

We. Are. The other.

And thus… understanding the other begins, when we realize, there is no other.

Separation is illusion, yet the magic is in our unique story.

Go figure. 😉



I am Strong. Scrunchie Strong.

Today, I made a striking confession that almost led to the worst thing that can happen in the first world problems of cyber community: Being un-friended on Facebook.

But I took a risk, knowing that it was more important to speak my truth, without shame or fear of judgment. I made it clear that I am my own person, I do not conform to status quo and I will not back down on my rights.

On July 19, 2013, at approximately 11 am, I let it be known that I would, in fact, wear a scrunchie today, without fear of being judged.

Cue gasp, right?

Women who wear scrunchies in public are some of the most demonized of all women. Carrie Bradshaw forever shamed us on the show Sex and the City and ever since that episode when Berger’s writing career unraveled because of her sharp and unnecessary judgment, CVS shoppers have been terrified to walk down the hair product aisle for fear that they would be mistakenly perceived as going in the direction of said scrunchies. Women have joined support groups, discussing their attraction to their former scrunchie-wearing days and some have reportedly shaved their heads in efforts to have no affiliation with hair, simply because of this cultural impression that scrunchies aren’t acceptable hair attire. (And don’t even get me started on the Levitical code regarding elastic and cotton combined.)

It’s been a tough decade, for scrunchie-wearers.

But today, I came out loud and proud about my use of said hair accessories and in honor of scrunchies and how they have served me, I’ve decided to share more about my scrunchie-affection and actual, live photos that show the more intimate details of my scrunchie and me. (Consider this a warning, as some photos will challenge your currently held beliefs about public displays of scrunchie-ness.)

In truth, my scrunchies have outlived even some of my partners and been there with me in times when not much else would hold back my hair. I mean, think about it ladies. Washing the dog? Scrunchie is there. Changing a diaper? Scrunchie in place. On a morning walk? Don’t forget the scrunchie. Random sex-capade at 8 pm after an excitable Happy Hour? Did he mind your scrunchie then? No, he did not.


All those things aside, this evening, as I went on my nightly walk, which is designed to keep my back loose, as I work through some complicated pain issues, I started to consider my many companions on my walks. My thoughts… my concerns… my spiritual guides… my goddesses… my angels… my dreams… the pain… and… my scrunchie. As you can see from the first photo, my scrunchie was present when I made choices on my path – A loyal companion, no matter what road I go down.


Later, my scrunchie and I were spotted by the police, who almost cited me for inappropriate scrunchie usage with a hat, but I told him I am a Buckeye fan and we exchanged the O-H-I-O chant and he let me go. After he left, I hid in the shade with my scrunchie, contemplating the deeper meaning of shade, comfort and how nutty Ohio football fans can be even in the off-season.

Scrunchie_FlowersIt wasn’t long before I thought, “A Facebook status isn’t enough. It’s time I write about this relationship that I have with my scrunchie.” So I started thinking of all the little places that we go together. Here is a photo of us stopping to smell the flowers. Go ahead, try and tell me the last time you and an actual person stopped to do that? It hasn’t happened, has it? Ahh, but a scrunchie takes risks. A scrunchie makes time for you, doesn’t it? A scrunchie doesn’t rush you because it prefers your company and can stay in the moment with you.

Later, we came upon a weeping willow tree and I thought about a childhood friend myScruncie_Willow sister and I used to visit, whose grandmother had a large weeping willow in her yard. I thought of Mrs. K and how high up her grandchildren climbed. Even my sister made her way to the thinnest branches to sit while I stayed near the bottom, no more than 4 feet off the ground, out of fear. I told my scrunchie my memories of that tree and my scrunchie listened. No reaction, no accusations – just listened. Good scrunchie.


Finally, on my way home. I stopped and considered the simplicity of my walking exercises, the last few months. The pain seems to lessen, if I keep to a regular routine and forego things like sit-down meals, sitting down to write, or basically anything that involves the seated position. It’s a true inconvenience and while my tolerance for pain is apparently quite high, I shirked the suggestion of an epidural and until a better diagnosis is reached, I walk… I have a routine that helps, even when it hurts. Furthermore, my many companions have no opinions about my treatment plan. In fact, one companion told me today, “You are strong. Scrunchie strong.”

There’s a passage in the Bible about being “jars of clay,” and I remember that, upon further contextual analysis (Bible College Degree coming back to haunt me), the reason the “jars of clay” analogy was used was because clay jars were something usual… something ordinary. The writer wanted to send the message that something “typical” or otherwise “commonplace” could be the very container that manifests a more powerful light than anything that had been seen before. I liken it now, to a scrunchie. We, our lives, our sacred journey and yes, even our scrunchies, are “treasures” that exist to show the surpassing, expansive and inspiring Love and Light that exists for us all. (That, my friends is 2 Corinthians 4:7 done hippie Gail-style).

Scrunchie_EstateAnd so, as I gazed upon the Mount Vernon estate, which is the land of my cousin, George Washington, I sat with a mantra, “I am strong. Scrunchie strong.” May you pull it into your daily lives, so that with every ordinary thing you do, you become connected to and more aware of the light that is moving through you…

Through the pain, through the doubt, through the interpretations and through all the judgments that others have about who we are…

Be strong. Scrunchie Strong.

These are my words. Namaste, yo.

P.S. Seriously… stop judging people for how they hold up their hair. I mean… can’t you judge them on their sexuality or something else instead? 😉 By the way, my new pre-requisite for dating. Must love dogs… and scrunchies.


Gail is the author of Enlightened-ish and Coming Out of the Closet without Coming Apart at the Seams. She is a hippie pre-school director and advocate, as well as spoken word artist and general badass. She also co-facilitates an online community for survivors of fundamentalist perspectives on homosexuality.

Looking for Love…

I do not claim to have relationships figured out but I have recognized the simple fact that many people, myself included, have been looking for love in all the wrong places. (Insert SNL skit with Eddie Murphy if you like. “Wookin’ pa nub?” Anyone? Anyone?)

This Valentine’s Day, it’s been important for me to identify the “wrong places” that I have been looking for love. I don’t have to take you through the inner monologue I have with myself about the relationships, church leaders, friendships, online communities and meet-up groups where I’ve looked for love. All of these characters, that may or may not been aware of their roles, make up a series of failed adventures in Love. The details are different for each of us but we all play out the same predictable plot. We go looking for love in all the wrong places because we avoid that one, lonely, quiet and somewhat frightful place where true love can be found:

Within ourselves.

Personally, I acknowledge how my first serious relationship wounded me to the point that I allowed that wound to shape my responses in my second relationship. Now that I’m years removed from both “failed” attempts at a long-term commitment, I’m stunned sometimes by how those two overlapped in my third serious relationship.

It’s important to identify the patterns, if we truly hope not to repeat them…

What I see as a reoccurring theme is that conflict comes when I fail to recognize that only I hold the power to love me unconditionally.

I’ll write it again: Only I hold the power to love me unconditionally.

Unconditional love. I look for it in others but is that realistic? Do they have the capacity to bear witness to my body, thoughts, feelings and beliefs and UNconditionally accept me, just as I am?

I argue that it is not within anyone’s capacity to offer that kind of love.

It is a role for the Divine… and maybe for our parents. But beyond the parents who celebrate me and the Creator who guides and comforts me, this role cannot exist in my partner. It is internal. Forever and ever, inside of me.

Truly, if the woman I’m with really loves me, she will love herself, her thoughts, feelings, body and beliefs unconditionally. She will hold herself accountable to the life she wants and the love she chooses. Alas, then, we come to one another out of CHOICE and not out of need.

And truly, if I love my thoughts, feelings, body and beliefs unconditionally, that is the platform from which I will choose her.

And that, my friends… is where the trust begins. My wife will love herself enough to tend to her identity, desires, integrity and dreams. I will love myself enough to tend to my identity, desires, integrity and dreams.

And that is how the sacred marriage will occur. When two people with very different identities commit to companionship while maintaining a balance of healthy self-love.

Can it be done? I still don’t know if it will happen for me this time but what I know now that I didn’t know before is that I don’t NEED a relationship. I want one. And there’s a big difference.

I’m no longer looking for love in all the wrong places. I’m going inward… and I’m learning more about Love than I’ve ever known before. In fact, today, I learned that the Path to Love has many more thorns than it does roses… so whether we are single, married or somewhere in between, let us walk slowly on the Path of Love, acknowledging the prickling sensations when they come out of nowhere and celebrating the sweet smells and sights of Love when it blooms.

Today and every day, when we look for love, may we first start by looking within because only you can meet your needs to be loved unconditionally. You… and maybe a lil’ Buckwheat Sings clip just for fun: http://georgespeedys.weebly.com/buckwheat-aka-eddie-murphy.html


~~ This post is dedicated to the online community Homospirituality 101, where we are all teachers and we are all students. Unconditional love may be impossible in love relationships, but somehow, we are creating it within community. When the people reflect the heart of the Divine… it may be possible. For more information about this online community, email or message me: http://www.facebook.com/groups/gail316