BLOG:REKNOWING

Separation Anxiety
Divorce, Marriage, Therapy Matthew Kosterman Divorce, Marriage, Therapy Matthew Kosterman

Separation Anxiety

Wherein we read about the fate of the best laid plans of a man…

Alright, let’s get back to it, shall we? I’ve been suffering from a bit of writer’s block. When I last left you, it was September 2009. I had moved out of my house, separating from my wife of fourteen years. It was done without any planning at all and yet it was the right thing. Sometimes it takes the passage of time to see things this clearly, however.

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Into the Abyss
Divorce, Marriage, Money, Therapy Matthew Kosterman Divorce, Marriage, Money, Therapy Matthew Kosterman

Into the Abyss

2007 wasn’t all bad. It was that year that Karen, a dear friend, suggested I begin charging for my photography. Since before my kids were born I was fascinated with photography. Both my grandfathers were enthusiasts, but it was actually the late 80’s wave of black & white posters by Ansel Adams, Henry Cartier Bresson and others that really lit a match for me. Interestingly, in retrospect, it is clear to me that the camera was an ideal device to allow me to participate in life but also to keep me hidden so I didn’t have to fully engage, especially with my family of origin.

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On Therapy… Part V
Addictions, Marriage, Money, Therapy Matthew Kosterman Addictions, Marriage, Money, Therapy Matthew Kosterman

On Therapy… Part V

The Lab gets moved. Cracks are appearing in many places. Fitness addiction to the rescue!

When we last left things, I was cruising along at 35,000 feet, metaphorically speaking, and I lost an engine. This happened in the form of a profound realization, around 2005-06, that no matter what I did, no matter how much money I made, how many gorgeous kids I had, how perfect of a house I lived in, my father wasn’t going to love me. Or, more accurately, was highly unlikely to express any love he did have for me in a way I could recognize and appreciate.

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On Therapy… Part Tres
Marriage, Money Matthew Kosterman Marriage, Money Matthew Kosterman

On Therapy… Part Tres

Wherein the inevitable move to the suburbs ensues and Baby Number Dos Arrives

When we last left the riveting life story of my intrepid self, we had just given birth to our first baby, the lovely Marguerite Mae, I had started taking Zoloft and I gave up alcohol after 18 years (I was 32; do the math – it ain’t pretty). We were living and working in the up-and-coming West Loop area of Chicago. We had it all – a baby, a rapidly growing business in an amazing rehabbed 1800’s timber loft, another gorgeous 1,700 square foot loft with a panoramic view of the city of Chicago and two BMWs (man I loved that car). And yet I felt… numb? disconnected? overwhelmed? All of the above. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was doing all the things!

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