The Love-Hate Relationships That Depress Me

In my younger days, I had my share of silly, tumultuous relationships … boyfriends, high school friends, the height of my hair, Jon Bon Jovi. I still have my share of love-hate relationships — pathetically, they are even more embarrassing.

– My Suburban
LOVE: It is my second home. HATE: It smells like sour milk and sweaty shin guards.
– My Clarisonic
LOVE: At my age, I need it. HATE: At my age, I need it.
– My iPhone
LOVE: What would I do without it? HATE: My kids can contact me at any time.
– My Chardonnay
LOVE: What’s not to love? HATE: I can’t drink it in my Suburban.
– My Caffeine
LOVE: It protects my children from my un-caffeinated self. HATE: They don’t make it in a mouthwash.
– My Husband
LOVE: I made a vow. HATE: He’s such a guy sometimes.
– Jon Bon Jovi
LOVE: Only love, Jon. Only love — I’ve matured!

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Author: Karen Latimer

Dr. Latimer is a Family Physician and Wellness & Parenting Coach. She works with parents who want to feel more confident when helping their children and coaches young adults to help them better navigate college life and transitions. Contact her at to learn more. She is the author of two Audible Originals, Take Back the House -- Raising Happy Parents and Worry Less, Parent Better. She is also the co-founder of the app that makes your life easier and puts social in a healthier place -- List'm.


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