Is there a statue of limitations on dissing your ex? I think not. Or I hope not, since I've gotten a lot of mileage out of mine. The first chapter of my book is about how badly he behaved when we were married, and how he left me for a much younger woman. I've pointed an accusing finger at him in several blogs on this site. However, even if we continue to mine the encrusted shards of our divorces, there are probably a few basic rules we should follow:

• If your divorce was amicable, it may as well remain that way. Don't dis after the fact.

• If there are children involved, don't dis to your kids about anything.

• If your ex was having an affair, dis with abandon.

• If you were having an affair, show some humility and keep quiet.

• If your ex made your divorce hellish, relish the dis.

• Don't let the dissing interfere with living your new, better, life.

A multitude of rules could be built upon the rubble of spousal bad behavior.

Recently, I met a woman who knew my ex-husband and his young wife. I figured this out because her kids had gone to the same school as my ex's. "You probably know my ex-husband," I mentioned, realizing, even as the words were leaving my lips, that it was kind of inappropriate for me to begin this conversation at all.

However, I permitted myself an evil grin when she responded, "Yes, I met his wife at a party with her mother, and I think I'm closer in age to her mother." I couldn't help but smile. "So's he," I told her. For good or bad, this stranger's comment was the equivalent of striking the vengeance jackpot. But what difference does it make? My ex and I have both moved on. We were a bad match. We're both remarried. We both have kids with our second spouses. Yet, I can admit to harboring some unresolved animosity. He did have an affair and he did make the divorce hellish. I grew up in New Jersey so hardheaded toughness and a bulldoggish inability to let go of revenge are part of my birthright. But I'm happily re-married; why do I bother to malign my ex-husband to strangers? (And I can't believe I'm the only who does this).

In my own defense, it doesn't happen very often.

Life is a process of shedding, as well as moving forward. The forward momentum is surely more important, lest we stagnate. And it's certainly easier to shed some things than others. Maybe the difficulty with fully releasing the anger at a former spouse is that love was involved. We can let go of bad jobs, disappointing friends, abbreviated romances, with relative ease, but a betrayal of love, a deconstruction of what we thought our lives were supposed to be, that's tougher. Even when our lives are immensely improved as a result and the love is long gone.

I think for some of us there's a scar from the place where we got maritally burned that itches every now and then, and we can't help but scratch it. Even our improved lives don't always act as a balm to completely soothe the wounded part.

As we get older, I think we also resent the lost time. In retrospect, I should've walked out of my marriage during the first year. But I waited, thinking it would improve. It didn't. Then I figured we'd have kids and that would make the difference. Fortunately the divorce arrived before the kids. But still, I'd spent a lot of time anticipating an amorphous something, if nothing more than a functioning marriage. I spent years thinking it was good enough.