Author: Dr. Gloria K Vanderhorst

Divorce can shake a man to his core…

…especially when he was never taught how to understand, name, or share what he feels. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores what real healing looks like for men navigating loss later in life.

Hello,

Divorce can leave men feeling hollowed out, ashamed, and profoundly alone, especially when they were never taught how to understand or express what they feel.

I recently joined David Webb on the podcast Don’t Pick the Scab for a thoughtful and honest conversation about divorce recovery for men over 40—and what it actually takes to heal rather than simply survive.

With nearly fifty years of experience as a psychologist working with boys, men, couples, and families, I have seen how early emotional conditioning follows men into adulthood. Many men enter divorce carrying years of suppressed grief, anger, and longing, without language for their pain or permission to need support. Divorce does not create this wound—it exposes it.

In this episode, we explore how men can begin to heal after divorce by reconnecting with their emotional lives and rebuilding a sense of self grounded in honesty and connection.

In this conversation, we explore:

• Why men are taught early to suppress emotion and how that affects divorce recovery
• How emotional disconnection can turn into resentment, isolation, and loss of identity
• Why connection, not toughness, is essential for healing
• How therapy and men’s groups support emotional growth and resilience
• Practical strategies for setting boundaries and navigating co‑parenting
• How men can manage loneliness and rebuild confidence after loss

This conversation is about giving men permission to feel without shame and to heal without doing it alone. It is about understanding that emotions are not a weakness—they are a pathway back to wholeness.

🎧 Listen to the full episode:
Divorce Recovery for Men Over 40
Don’t Pick the Scab Podcast

Want to explore more about men’s emotional development and healing after loss? Visit Psychology Today’s insights on men and emotional resilience and Greater Good’s research on recovery, connection, and well‑being.

If this conversation resonates with your experience—or someone you care about—therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support emotional healing, clarity, and renewed confidence.

Warmly,
Dr. Gloria K. Vanderhorst
Psy

Why Maryland and DC Families Should Bring Back Classic, In‑Person Pranks

Remember shouting “April Fool!” after pulling a trick on someone and delighting in their reaction? Many of us grew up with family pranks that became legendary stories, moments of surprise, laughter, and connection.

There are so many fun ways to develop tricks with your family. Maybe you and your sister once wrapped every item in your dad’s lunchbox in layers of newspaper so it took him half an hour to find his sandwich. Short‑sheeting your siblings or parents was always a classic. Or perhaps you shouted that your brother had fallen on the butcher knife and was bleeding to death, dark humor, yes, but unforgettable.

Of course, Orson Welles did it better than anyone. His famous 1938 radio broadcast about Earth being invaded by Martians wasn’t released on April 1, though perhaps it should have been. He aired it on Halloween, interrupting regular programming with “news bulletins” so realistic that several listeners panicked. The FCC investigated, apologies were issued, and the incident became a cultural milestone. What fascinates me most is how people reacted, just like in my own family when we pulled off a really good prank. There’s that instant moment of shock, that wide‑eyed disbelief before laughter takes over. Welles’ broadcast captured that same magic. For a split second, people wondered, “Could this possibly be real?”

This moment in history also revealed how powerfully media shapes our responses. We are deeply influenced by what we see and hear, and now we carry those influences in our pockets everywhere we go. At a recent dinner, my husband and I were enjoying lovely conversation with the people at our end of the table. Meanwhile, a man at the opposite end spent the entire evening buried in his phone, the moon‑like glow lighting up his face. He could have been on Mars. Technology may sometimes pull us apart at the dinner table, but if we’re lucky, it also gives us new reasons to laugh together.

The modern version of Orson Welles will no doubt arrive through your cell phone. Families will tease each other using this little device on April Fool’s Day. Short‑sheeting may become a thing of the past. Filling the sugar bowl with salt may fade away. Telling your grandmother she won the lottery will be delivered by text. But what is the fun in that? No one is there to see her kick up her heels and dance.

Why not bring back the classic, in‑person pranks this year? I would love to hear about your most memorable or hilarious family tricks. Share your favorite prank stories, or challenge yourself to pull off a face‑to‑face joke with your loved ones. Let’s inspire each other to create laughter and legendary moments together.

As a traditionalist, I advocate bringing back old‑fashioned pranks that foster real connection and shared joy, reminding us of the fun in face‑to‑face interactions.

For more reflections on emotional connection and family well‑being, explore articles on Psychology Today and research from Greater Good Science Center.

If your family is working to reconnect or build healthier communication, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that strengthen emotional connection and family relationships.

Voltaire’s Wisdom, Community Roots, and the Work of Belonging

“We must cultivate our garden.” Voltaire’s famous quote is more than metaphor—it’s a call to action. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how tending to our families, communities, and civic spaces is both a personal and collective responsibility.

The exact quote from Voltaire, the 18th-century philosopher, is “We must cultivate our garden.”

Voltaire spent his life focused on freedom of speech and religious tolerance. I wonder what he would think of us today? And what does he mean when encouraging us to cultivate our own garden?

The concept of a garden is quite pleasing. My Aunt’s garden was huge and contained all kinds of vegetables, from sweet corn, large squash, green beans, and strawberries. Like I said, her garden was huge. To top it off, lush flower beds ringed the garden. I particularly liked the “hens and chickens,” more for their name than their looks.

While her garden made a lovely display and was enjoyable to look at from the large wrap-around porch on the house, with the swings hanging from the rafters, the work associated with that garden was endless. She was out there in the early morning to weed and hoe and again in the setting sun to gather vegetables and flowers for the next day.

I do not think Voltaire was referring to my Aunt’s type of garden. I rather think that he was talking about our place in life and those around us. Our families, our neighborhoods, our communities—these are the gardens of reference.

How do we participate in these?

Our neighborhood has a List Serve, which is a marvelous invention for the computer age. I suppose it in some way replaces the party line of the phone when I was a child. The list serve contains news of changes in the community, such as the county’s effort to develop some land or the need for speed bumps and stop signs. It includes requests for gardeners, babysitters, and short-term rental places. Teenagers post their talents and willingness to do odd jobs or babysit.

I know of families that have a group chat where they check in every week. In this way, they are up to date with the news of the events in the lives of their siblings, cousins, etc. When I was a kid, our extended family had annual gatherings with potluck lunch and dinner, generally held on someone’s farm with the barn cleaned down the center for music and dancing. Some families have annual vacations that tend to grow in the number of houses rented as the family grows.

Voltaire would approve. I also think that he would want us to look beyond our families and neighborhoods to the broader society and care about how our towns, cities, states, and country governments are serving the needs of the people.

How are you cultivating these gardens?

Want to explore how civic engagement and community care shape emotional well-being? Visit Greater Good’s guide to civic engagement and mental health and Psychology Today’s article on why community matters.

If you’re reflecting on your role in family, community, or society, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support clarity, connection, and contribution.

The Quiet Companions That Bring Winter Back to Life

When the world outside is frozen and colorless, houseplants offer a small but steady kind of hope. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection celebrates the grounding, fragrant, and surprisingly emotional presence of plants, especially orchids, through the long winter months.

Do you have some of these? They can really be delightful, particularly in the winter months when you cannot get outside and blooms on anything are scarce. They also help keep you grounded. They need regular attention and can reward you with lovely blooms and scents in the winter months.

As the snow piles up outside, covering the walks and blocking the driveway, we can enjoy the blooms on the orchids and the lovely scent they fill the room with. An orchid can be a very dependable plant. First, they are easy to find, as most grocery stores have a small collection of Phalaenopsis orchids at the entrance or near the checkout. I know you have seen them and have been tempted to buy one. You likely bought one for a friend because you fear taking care of it yourself.

There it is in the store, in full bloom with its tall stem and large flowers. You cannot resist, and you do have a friend who is recovering from surgery or who has a birthday or celebration coming up. So, an orchid it is. However, the reverse can be true. Your friend could be at the grocery store and buy one of these for you. Now what do you do? Most recipients enjoy the orchid’s bloom, hold onto it for a few days or weeks after it finishes, and then toss it in the garbage. After all, you do not know how to care for it or if it will ever rebloom.

You can solve this dilemma. After all, you have the internet right at your fingertips. Google “orchid care” and see what you find. Go on. Do it now. The directions are quite simple. Cut off the bloom, but not the whole spike, unless it looks dead and ugly. Water it, but please, please do not put ice cubes on it. Someone, somewhere, published this advice, and so many people are freezing the roots of their orchid. Would you like an ice cube down your back daily or weekly? Cut it out.

Now, you must employ your patience. Remember that this is a hothouse plant that has been forced to bloom so the entrepreneur can make money. What happens to you when you are forced to produce something for another? Let it rest and take its time. You might think of it as building trust. Eventually, it will rebloom and settle into your environment.

Then you will be glad that you kept it and cared for it. Orchids are a bit like children. They need to be safe, and that takes time. They need to be nurtured, and that takes more time and attention. They need to be appreciated, and that takes attention and understanding. They need to be enjoyed and celebrated, and that takes joy.

Want to explore more about nature, grounding, and emotional well‑being? Visit Psychology Today’s reflections on how nature supports emotional health and Greater Good’s research on the calming effects of tending plants.

If this reflection inspires you to cultivate steadiness, patience, or emotional grounding, much like caring for an orchid, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support resilience, balance, and well‑being.

The Strange Stretch of Time We All Know Too Well

Waiting is universal. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how waiting shapes emotional life, emotional life, and the quiet spaces in between.

What is your earliest memory of waiting? What is your recent memory of waiting?

Most pregnant women would say waiting for that first contraction is the hardest part. Children would no doubt name waiting to open their presents on their birthday. Teenagers might say waiting to be old enough to drive or graduate. Parents might say, “Waiting for that last child to move out and be on their own.” Midlife adults might say, “Waiting for test results.”

Waiting is a part of life. In fact, it might be the biggest part of life. Think of how many times you are in a waiting position, waiting for the water to boil for your morning tea, waiting for the light to change from red to green, waiting for the elderly lady dragging one of those rolling carts to complete the trek across the street so you can proceed, waiting for the bath to fill so you can soak.

Waiting can be frustrating, whether you are waiting for something good or not. The statistics on waiting say that we spend less time than we think. Across the lifespan, 5% to 11% of our lives is spent waiting, according to a surveyor who bothers to collect such data. I will say that they have clearly not been watching me. Waiting is painful, and I am quite sure it takes up way more time than that.

What are the things you can do while waiting? Doctors’ offices used to have magazines. Since COVID, those have disappeared, and even if they have reappeared, you might want to be careful. You can scroll on your smartphone or play a game. The danger there is that you will not stop. I know some people who bring books with them and spend the time reading. Others bring journals and record their thoughts as they wander through their heads. Once, I saw a woman bring out her knitting, and I thought that was smart.

Some people fall asleep in the waiting room, depending on how long their charge is engaged with testing or other things. I am not too fond of those, especially the ones who snore. They are like the seatmate on the airplane who ends up leaning on you or slobbering on your magazine.

Waiting is part of life, so get used to it. One would wonder why we do not plan for it and why we are so surprised and frustrated when we are in that state. Take the line at Starbucks, for example. You know what I mean. How many things can you put in a cup of coffee? Even the pickup line at school always runs slowly, so why would you ever plan an appointment immediately next to pickup time?

Take a breath. Waiting is a part of life, and according to the statistician, it is a very, very small part of life.

Want to explore more about patience, emotional regulation, and the psychology of waiting? Visit Psychology Today’s reflections on stress and anticipation and Greater Good’s research on mindfulness and everyday resilience.

If waiting, whether for answers, change, or clarity, feels heavy in your own life, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support grounding, patience, and emotional steadiness.

The Quiet Moments That Shape Who We Become

Kindness is rarely loud, but it is unforgettable. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how small gestures of care become some of the most enduring memories we carry.

When you see that word, kindness, what pictures pop into your head? We think in words, actions, and images. Today, I am asking you to go into your picture or movie storage and see which piece of history comes to mind when you think of kindness. This storage unit could be quite full.

The neighbor who beckoned you onto their front porch when a sudden downpour caught you a block away from home and saved you from getting drenched.

The stranger who stopped to help you fix a flat tire when you were not really sure how to use those metal tools in the trunk.

The friend who gave you a ride when you were recovering from a hospital stay and were not supposed to drive.

The school bus driver who rescued you from being teased and brought some order to the ride to school.

What has popped into your brain? Isn’t your brain a great storehouse? Packed into that small space in your head are movies and tape recorders of all kinds of experiences that you have had. I tend to believe that your brain holds onto everything, and given the right prompts and time, you can access any memory from the past. Past experiences shape who we are in the present. Some small, powerful experiences from when you were very little can resurface in the present and influence how you feel and behave.

Kindnesses are especially important memories.

What motivates us to be kind to someone? The very fact that we are born physically connected to another person is part of this natural tendency. Our connection at birth sets us up to seek connection and value it. Of course, as infants, we are dependent on connection. As our parents or other adults care for us, we are building a storehouse of experiences about connection and caring. Those experiences have to be floating around in our brains somewhere.

We say our heartstrings get tugged when we feel compassion for others. That is a marvelous image. Our hearts have strings, perhaps like streamers you find at parties and celebrations. Or like the soft, melodious strings of a harp, making beautiful music for others to enjoy.

The act of noticing another person and offering help seems universal. We naturally tend to care about our fellow human beings. We may not always be able to act on those feelings, but they seem to flow naturally from us.

Want to explore more about compassion, connection, and the psychology of kindness? Visit Psychology Today’s reflections on empathy and emotional development and Greater Good’s research on the science of kindness.

If this reflection stirs something in you—memories, questions, or a desire to reconnect with your own capacity for kindness—therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support emotional growth, connection, and well‑being.

SPIDER WEBS

Fragility, Flexibility, and the Wisdom of Interconnection

Spider webs aren’t just traps—they’re metaphors for resilience. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how webs mirror emotional flexibility, survival, and the quiet strength of connection.

How do you feel about spiders? I know that many people fear them; others admire them; some study them; others write about them. Most of you will be familiar with Charlotte’s Web, the childhood story. Wilbur the pig is at risk. His life is in danger. He is the runt of the litter. His size will determine his fate. The farmer is bound to chop his head off.

How many of us are runts? How many of us would be at risk for extermination early in life? Maybe I am one of those. Perhaps you are one of those. Wilbur was small. His likelihood of survival was small. Feeding him or spending time caring for him was going to be intense and take more time and energy. The farmer wanted to be efficient. He knew that the best fate for Wilbur and the farm, in general, was to eliminate that pig so others could receive more attention and grow in strength.

Fortunately, we do not take this approach to humans. Or should I say that, in general, we do not take this approach to humans? I know that historians would disagree with me here, as there have been numerous attempts to eliminate classes of people: Nazi Germany, Bosnia, Rwanda, Darfur, etc.

The reality of killing innocents makes us identify with Wilbur and champion his survival. Interestingly, the most diminutive creature in the barn, which many of us also fear, becomes Wilbur’s champion. The spider becomes the leader in the barn and organizes everyone to support Wilbur and see him triumph. The spider weaves a web in the corner of the doorway, where it catches the breeze and serves as the perfect trap for bugs to feed her brood.

Carefully inspecting her web will reveal that the silk strands blow gently in the wind. These threads are strong and supple. Often, they are challenging to see. Perhaps that is a part of their ability to capture insects to feed the young spiders.

Webs can be strong and supple. The individual strands of silk move in the wind and grip each other simultaneously. A spider web is strong. At the same time, the silky strands can move and flex, their strength holding firm in the face of assaults. The web does not have to be solid or rigid. The web can flex and bend while it maintains its integrity. When the web is stressed, it moves and bends. The web can expand in the face of stress.

Each of us needs to be more web-like. In the face of stress, we need to be flexible. We need to be open in the face of motion that nudges us to change. We need to have open spaces in our minds to face emotions that would otherwise shut us down. The web has wisdom for us if we are open to it.

Want to explore how spider webs symbolize emotional resilience and spiritual connection? Visit Hidden Significance’s guide to spider web symbolism, The Indie Spiritualist’s reflections on spider webs and ancestral wisdom, and InnerHunches’ breakdown of spider web strength and flexibility.

If you’re reflecting on emotional flexibility, trauma, or connection, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support insight, healing, and resilience.

How One Avenue Became the Nation’s Front Porch

Every town has a main street. Some are even named Main Street. It’s the simplest way to mark the center of a community, straightforward, practical, and easy to remember.

I am sure that you know this site. Every town has a main street. Some are even called Main Street. This makes sense. When naming things, particularly when laying out a town, keep it simple. Streets going north and south get names. Streets going east and west get numbers. Simple. The street that runs through the center of the town is, of course, Main Street.

The one outstanding exception is Washington, D.C. The main street in this town is Pennsylvania Avenue.

Pennsylvania Avenue connects the White House, home of the President, to the United States Capitol, home of the House of Representatives and the Senate, representing the people.

This grand avenue was designed by the Frenchman who laid out the Capitol. Pierre Charles L’Enfant actually designed an avenue to mirror his French heritage, the Champs‑Élysées. Be careful with the contractors you hire, as they may create something for themselves rather than for you. What if he had been Japanese? Would we have pagodas lining the street? That is a topic for another day.

What about the name of this street? Why not Grand Avenue or Government Glory? Why not just plain Main Street? Clearly, I should never be in charge of street names.

The story goes that Thomas Jefferson influenced the name as a bow of respect for moving the capital from Philadelphia. That was gracious.

This street has evolved from a muddy path to a sweeping concrete promenade. The street sees parades, victory celebrations, and protests. Funeral processions have graced the pavement. At one point, the street was lined with cabarets, and nightlife was booming. A streetcar used to run down the middle when those were popular.

The street itself is really quite short—1.2 miles. Thomas Jefferson had the street lined with Lombardy poplars. I do not know about you, but I think these are really weird‑looking trees. Yes, they are tall, but they take on the shape of a popsicle stick. At one point, they were all cut down, and the locals used them for firewood, though I am not quite sure they were well suited for that either. More recently, President John F. Kennedy commissioned the Pennsylvania Avenue Development Corporation to revitalize the area.

As America’s Main Street, this strip holds memories and has been revitalized into the Federal Triangle, including 15th Street NW, Constitution Avenue NW, Pennsylvania Avenue NW, and E Street NW. Now, if you are familiar with triangles, you will recall that they have three sides and not four. But this is the U.S. government, and sometimes things do not add up.

Want to explore more about history, civic identity, and the places that shape us? Visit Psychology Today’s reflections on culture and community and Greater Good’s research on belonging and collective memory.

If reflections like this spark thoughts about your own story, identity, or personal history, therapy can help you explore those layers with clarity and grounding. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support insight and emotional growth.

Rediscovering Delight, One Twist at a Time

Some joys (like Kaleidoscopes) are simple, colorful, and wonderfully noisy. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection invites you to revisit forgotten pleasures and reclaim the small delights that once lit you up.

Oh, what glorious fun! Remember getting one of these for some occasion—your birthday, a holiday, or just for any day? A kaleidoscope is a joy in a tube. Not only does it make marvelous changing pictures, but it also makes that electrifying noise of silvery pieces tumbling in the tube. I have not had one of these for years. I must find a place to get one.

As a child, I remember receiving one of these for a birthday. The tube was about 1.5 inches in diameter and 7 or 8 inches long. When you turned the base, the pieces inside would make a sound like sand dropping on metal. The faster you turned it, the louder it got. The colorful pieces inside created myriad designs as you turned the collar. One design after another went tumbling. You could try to repeat a design, but you never could. No matter how many times you put it down on the table, you wanted to pick it up and twirl it again. Your siblings fought for their turns, and even your parents wanted a go at it.

Such a simple thing provided one delight after another. The colors were marvelous, and the tumbling sound of the pieces inside was satisfying too.

I think I need to find one of those and give it a go.

What are you remembering that you need to try again? What used to delight you and has now been lost in time?

Life has a way of slipping by. The things that used to delight you get stuck in the past. Particularly as you age, you find pieces of history slipping away. Oh, we used to play bridge, but then the neighbors moved away, and we have not found any substitutes since. Or, I haven’t bought any yarn in decades, and I used to make baby clothes and sweaters for everyone. Now, I can’t even remember why I stopped.

Life has a way of slipping by. We all know the treadmill that has turned into a clothes hanger or the bicycle that has flat tires and never seems to leave the garage.

My neighbor tells stories of playing golf, but has not been on a course for a decade. How is this possible? What happens to those things we used to do and enjoy?

If you could go back in time and pick up one thing that you used to do, what would it be? I might search for my knitting needles and see if I can find some yarn in the cedar chest. But I will definitely buy a kaleidoscope.

Want to explore more about joy, nostalgia, and emotional well‑being? Visit Psychology Today’s insights on how nostalgia supports emotional health and Greater Good’s research on how play and wonder support well‑being.

If this reflection inspires you to reconnect with forgotten joys or rediscover parts of yourself, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support clarity, resilience, and renewed delight.

MARCH MADNESS

Seasons, Sports, and the Rhythm of Resilience

Madness isn’t chaos—it’s momentum. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how seasonal shifts and basketball brilliance mirror the unpredictability of life, and why persistence is the real victory.

That is such a good title! Here, during the transition between winter and spring, there should be Madness. Yesterday, the sun was bright, the birds were enjoying the feeder just outside my window, and a gentle breeze was moving the clapper of the gong in the backyard. That was a lovely day. Today, the temperature has plummeted to some tragic number, the sky is a total slate gray with no light in sight, and the River Birch trees are bending in the wind as if they will never again be upright. This is March Madness. Driving me crazy!

Fortunately, March Madness has another meaning, and I do like basketball. That air-filled round leather thing that you can bounce on the driveway and hurl into the air to catch the rim of the hoop and fall gently through the net to bounce again on the blacktop and be caught for another shot is a marvelous orb. I love the feeling of it in your hand. Somehow, it seems to fit regardless of your age. The elementary school girl who needs to be lifted in the air to reach the rim is just as excited as the teen who can hurl that ball in a long arc to swish through the net and avoid the rim altogether. A sense of pride emerges at every age.

I grew up in Indiana, where basketball is a huge endeavor. Farmers abandon their tractors in the field to make it to the local high school gym to cheer on their team. Domes are built on college campuses to house the hordes that will flood the stands to watch the intense competition. As a girl living in Indianapolis, the Butler Field House was the place to be.

This year, the opening of this contest is March 16, the day I am writing this essay. Even though I no longer own a basketball, I can still feel the bumps on the round, air-filled leather ball I bounced in the driveway years ago. The college men who will put themselves out on the court will play their hardest. Some will be rewarded, and some will be defeated.

Life functions in the same way. We put ourselves out in the open and strive to hit the mark. Sometimes we succeed, and sometimes we fail. Life requires us to pick the ball up again and return to the court regardless. That expectation can be a real challenge. What if we fail again? What if we miss our shot? What if we must pass it to someone else? What if we step out of bounds? What if we foul an opponent or, worse yet, block our teammate from scoring?

This game of life is challenging, and it requires practice. We must do the same thing over and over before we have mastery. Bounce, bounce, shoot. Bounce, bounce, shoot. Everything that we master requires repetition. Practice can be fun sometimes, grueling at others, and always necessary. Is it madness? Perhaps.

Want to explore how basketball and March Madness reflect life’s deeper lessons? Visit 5 Life Lessons That Basketball Teaches You, Memoir Example: March Madness and the Power of Persistence, and Matthews UMC’s reflections on March Madness and life.

If you’re reflecting on resilience, rhythm, or emotional growth, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support insight, healing, and personal mastery.