The Black Widow

Scarlet My life had started finally looking up. Or at least that’s what I was continuing to tell myself. I had closed one trying and painful chapter in my book, and it was time to start living again. My children were happy, they had begun to navigate through the chaos of our new normal and I had convinced myself if they could continue growing, so could I. I was doing well at work. I was staying on track with my own personal fitness goals while still crushing my wine and martini drinking records on nights and weekends. As a Doctor of Physical Therapy my caseload stayed steady with happy patients and family members, and I even made some new mom friends who convinced me to get on board with the school’s parent volunteering committee. It’s sadly a big deal in my quiet suburban town. Last week I’d finally put away all my wedding photos. I couldn’t move my singular favorite shadow box I created of my husband and I’s side profile looking lovingly into each other eyes with my bridal hair piece on full display. I was proud of this little creation I made nearly fifteen years ago. I know what I sound like- quintessential suburbia mom going through brutal divorce many years and three kids later but no- this was much worse. Staring into the mirror I knew I was the epitome of an overworked, under slept, mommy of three mixed high school and grade school aged kids supposed to be thriving even during the mundane moments of suburban life except I wasn’t. I was a widow at the ripe age of thirty- nine. I was supposed to be coming into my forties happily with my beautiful family in tow cheering me on and allowing myself to become more autonomous again, however in truth I was a shell of myself. I am not the woman I thought I would be, but today was a new day and this was a new year and I’ll be damned if I wasn’t going to dive into the last year of my thirties without some bit of closure and maybe a small amount of joy. Finding a small memento in my library from Michal shook the cobwebs of despair from my heart. Today marks a new era for me. I discovered a newfound will to do more than just survive. This year I want to thrive. Better yet I want to prove to all those other volunteer moms that I was so much more than just the black widow that I know they call me behind my back.