Dishes. Laundry. Diapers. Ugh. The chores are never ending. Today, it's grating on my nerves more than normal and I have no idea why.I've been a stay-at-home mom since Myra was born, and I was a stay-at-home wife before that. So none of this is new.But in some ways, it's all new.I knew when I left Santos life would change, but I think how much it changed is kind of jarring. I knew my life was wrapped up in Santos's job, but I don't think I ever knew how much until it was all gone.Not only do I not go to weekly games most of the year anymore, I don't get invited out by my friends either. I understand why… it's hard to include someone who is no longer part of the Mutiny family. What could I possibly contribute to party planning? I won't be invited to any of the family events. Won't watch the babies I've snuggled grow up. I won't be part of the celebrations. I won't be part of the losses. And how could I be? How would they be able to include Santos's next wife, assuming he were to ge
"Hey, how ya doing, Santos?""I'm doing okay, thanks."Shaking my therapist's hand, a genuine smile crosses my face. I've been seeing Justin for a couple of weeks now, and therapy hasn't been at all like I thought it would be.I envisioned a stuffy old man making me lay on a couch while he holds a clipboard and asks me about my mother. Justin, however, is anything but a stuffy old man. Just a couple years older than me, he comes to work wearing jeans and sneakers. He's got scruff on his face and doesn't even have a desk to sit behind. His office looks more like a living room with a couch and a couple recliners. The only indication it's a therapy office at all is the bookshelf full of reference material.We talk for a few minutes about my latest game and what the chances are we'll win the title this year. Turns out Justin isn't a fan of soccer, but he's been to an occasional game. Most people in Houston have, even if it's just to say they've gone.Quickly, the conversation turns to Mari
The shrill noise of the drill makes the kids run away holding their ears, which makes my life easier because they stay away from the front door. The last thing I want right now is for one of them to try and bolt. I'm still feeling too much guilt over Theo getting out the other day.I was nervous to call Santos and tell him what happened. Really nervous. The entire thing was my fault. Distraction is understandable when you're a mom of three small children. But there is no excuse for the amount of emotional distraction I was allowing myself to have. The one good thing about the scare was that it forced me to take a good, hard look at myself and how emotionally stagnant I'd become. It's justifiable to feel anger and betrayal when one finds out their spouse has been unfaithful. But holding onto that anger for so long was a choice I made. Now, I choose to let it go. I choose to not be angry anymore. Regardless, I was still scared to tell Santos.Of course, he immediately put my fears to r
"Ooof!"My body hits the ground hard as I try to stop the ball. I miss and immediately pop back up to my feet, ready to attempt another block.I'm being peppered on all sides by balls during practice to keep my reflexes strong. It's effective, but damn, if it doesn't hurt after a while."Ooofffff!"I miss the block as Daniel bends the ball, making it sail right past me."Shit!" I yell and pound the grass with my hand before popping right back up again."Get your head in the game, Santos!" Coach yells from across the field.I wanna tell him I can't. That something doesn't feel right about this anymore, but I don't even know why that is anyway, so I shake my body out and get in position again.This time Rowen goes for the kick and the ball flies toward me. I know it's going to curve as soon as it gets close to me, and it does exactly that. I launch my body across the field and the ball glides right past my fingers."Fuck!" I yell as I hit the ground."Time!" Coach yells. "Hit the showers
The kids are down for a nap and I have a chance to sit for the first time in hours. The older they get, the more active they are. Especially Lina. Not for the first time, I wish we had a back yard and a swing set for the kids. They've been begging to go to the park all day, but no way. They would probably be fine if I just bundled them up, but I would never get over the chill.Victoria, my friend from the marriage conference, crosses my mind. I haven't talked to her in a few weeks.Picking up my phone, I dial her number and wait."Hello?" she answers, interrupting the third ring."Hey, Victoria. It's Mariana.""Hey girl!" She sounds excited to hear from me, making me smile. Sometimes I forget how little adult interaction I get. It helps having Marcus live next door, but he has a job and a life, too. "How's it going in your neck of the woods?""Surprisingly, not terrible. How's it going over there?" I settle back into the couch, putting my feet on the coffee table."Eh. It's fine. It co
After ten years of playing professional soccer and fifteen years of my life before that, I thought cleaning out my locker would be hard. I thought it would be full of nostalgia and memories. Of course, I also thought it would be complete with pomp and circumstance from younger players congratulating me on my retirement and a career well done.Instead, it was just me, myself, and I tossing out old deodorant, notebooks of plays that have long since been revised, and team-owned gear to be disinfected and passed on to the next guy.It's an extremely underwhelming send-off, but it's right this way. Soccer had been my obsession for the majority of my life, but somewhere along the way, it had become my downfall. For that reason alone, I don't need it to be celebrated.Just like an alcoholic doesn't have a big drinking party to celebrate sobriety, I don't want a big party celebrating my attempts at rearranging my routines and patterns.To say my coach had been shocked by my immediate resignati
"I'm actually surprised to see you," Justin announces, as he closes his office door and we make ourselves comfortable on the couches.His office is pretty much how I pictured it: homey couch, a couple of chairs, bookshelf full of reference material. The only thing that kind of surprises me is that the chairs are recliners, but I can see how that would put some people at ease. It is a therapist's office after all."I know Santos said you were going to come in, but it's not that often that I see both the ex-husband and the ex-wife."I smile at him. I only met him a few minutes ago, but so far, I like him. He's handsome in a guy-next-door way. He's got a kind face and is dressed in jeans. It's more like I'm talking to a friend than to a therapist. No wonder Santos likes him."I figured Santos and I have to co-parent for the next seventeen years, so we might as well use the same person and stay on the same page for the kids. I mean, that's okay, right?" The thought crosses my mind that may
"Wait." I rub my temples as I try to make sense of it all. "You're saying Santos cheated on me for all those years because he might have a medical condition that exacerbates his stupid superstitions?""In a very basic nutshell, yes."I stare at him, mouth open. I want to hear what Justin is saying and having it all make sense… make it all this easy. Instead, it makes me mad. "I call bullshit.""Why?""Why?" I laugh, humorlessly. "Because we were married for ten years. He could have easily come home and gotten his 'medical condition,"' I sarcastically use air quotes, "… under control with me. But he didn't. He chose to go out and bang any groupie who was willing to spread her legs for him. No way. He made a choice. Every time.""I agree with you.""Good. Because there is no way I'm accepting that as an excuse." "I'm not asking you to. And I'm not making excuses for him. Regardless of how difficult the situation was, he had choices and he knew what he was doing."I nod and feel my anger