When my two daughters and I moved to a mountainous town in Mexico, from Brooklyn, New York, romance was the last thing on my mind.
At least two different friends predicted I would find love in Mexico. And I just laughed.
The idea of one more person who would need something from me sounded ridiculous. I told my friends, “Time will tell! Maybe someday, when the kids are older. I doubt it, but maybe.”
I moved to Mexico without much of a plan for myself, besides knowing I needed a radical change from the constant rush and stress of NYC life. I had already enrolled the children in a Spanish-only Waldorf school but didn’t know what I would do for myself.
Once the children started school, I got a job and started to build a social circle for myself. After a time, I got myself a therapist — a requirement