I was born in Bangkok in 1966, left by my father before I drew my first breath, and raised by grandparents after my mother crossed an ocean to start a new life in America. When she finally came back for me at twelve, I couldn’t remember how to call her Mom. I arrived in New York with no English and an instinct — already practiced by then — for handling things alone.

That instinct became the armor I wore into adulthood. It carried me through a career I was proud of and a daughter I was fiercely determined to raise differently than I had been raised. It also cost me two marriages before I understood what it was made of.

Then, at fifty-three, my fourteen-year-old daughter told me to stop sitting alone in the apartment.

What followed was three years of first dates that didn’t lead to second ones. Three years of learning what I didn’t want. Three years of learning what I did.

And then, on a warm July evening in 2021, a profile appeared on my screen. A man in a three-piece suit. Italian. Looking for a life partner. I swiped right. He replied instantly: “Enchanted to meet you.”

Three Times the Charm is the story of what happened next — and, more importantly, the story of everything that had to happen first. It is a memoir about refusing to measure your worth by how much you can endure. About the armor you spent your childhood building and the patience it takes to finally set it down.

For every woman who has loved, lost, rebuilt, and refused to stop believing the best is still ahead — this book is for you.

Third time’s the charm.