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she walked in the front door of our house instead of through the garage.

"I don't want to meet another guy–don't even want to hear his name–until it's the man you're going to marry," she said one Sunday over brunch while I was explaining how I broke up with a guy over email and he was all bent out of shape about it, even though I did it because I thought he would appreciate the efficiency of the communication.

We didn't speak for around two months after that, which was awkward because we worked at the same ad agency.

But women are strong and resilient creatures, and one must never underestimate the power of the silent treatment.

Our silence broke the day after I met the man who would be my husband.

My boyfriend leapt from the couch and skittered across the living room like a startled crab.

get pregnant."I ran upstairs to die of embarrassment, and my boyfriend got on his bike and raced home.My mother and I never discussed sex or dating again—until I reached my mid-to-late 20s and she decided it was time for her to let me know whether or not she approved of my dating habits (she didn't).Like so many women aged 16-27, I flailed through a series of ill-fated relationships, because if I tilted my head at a certain angle and kept one eye closed and completely ignored reality, the relationship didn't look so bad?My mother and I had passed each other on the stairwell in icy silence, and I turned to let her know I had met someone I really liked. " she said, turning to go (they had worked together years before at another ad agency)."He's kind of a dumbass."She hates this story now that her favorite child-in-law has died of brain cancer, but it's true.It's not entirely my mother's fault that she was devoid of dating advice, because she never really to date. He was just back from Vietnam, 6 feet tall, 125 pounds, and tanned to a deep brown.