By Maria Celeste Arraras
Yes, it is possible to learn from someone else’s mistakes. My mother is a remarkable woman who speaks three different languages, plays the piano like a concert pianist, has a degree in chemistry and can talk about almost anything. Yet, when it came to matters of the heart, she admits that she sacrificed her own dreams and aspirations for love. Over and over again. One thing she did right was to make sure that I didn't do the same. And I never have. She married my father two months after graduating magna cum laude with a chemistry degree. Although she had been awarded a scholarship to continue her studies in Belgium, she heeded her mother’s advice and followed my father to England, where he too had been awarded a scholarship. After all, back then when a woman got married she was expected to stay home and raise the children.
And that's what she did. As a wife, she was the perfect complement to my father, who eventually became the chancellor of the University of Puerto Rico in Mayagüez, where my sister and I were born. After classes, she gathered all the professors at our house on campus and they would spend long hours discussing philosophy, literature and the arts.
We had a good life and enjoyed the perks that came with my father's position — a chef, a chauffeur and a live-in nanny. But my parents’ divorce changed all that.
. It was a tough time. My father was running for mayor of San Juan and, not having an income, he was struggling to pay our private school tuition and to send her $500 monthly alimony. My mother had no choice but to look for a job. It was a rude awakening. She had to compete with younger professionals with master’s degrees and doctorates. And after being out of her field for more than a decade, most of what she had learned had become obsolete in the face of technological advances. She was a housewife with no house and no husband.
I saw her go from the spouse of the university chancellor to a woman working entry-level jobs to make ends meet. She struggled unbelievably, both financially and in rediscovering who she was as a person.And in the process, she made sure that we learned by example. She would always tell me, “Brains over beauty, Mari. Studying hard and having a career is the only insurance in life.”
But nothing she taught me with her words has shaped me more than watching the woman I respect most in the world pick her life up in pieces and start anew.
As a result of my mother’s experience, I vowed that I was going to get an education, and I was going to have a career. And I was never going to let my destiny be in the hands of a man. That’s not to say I didn’t want to fall in love, or be married, or have children. I simply wanted to be the owner of my own decisions. I didn’t want to be in a situation where I lost at love and lost at life as a consequence.
My career took me from San Juan to New York, from Los Angeles to Miami. I felt like a gipsy. In five years, I lived in four different cities. And even though I managed to fall deeply in love, I moved every time my job required it. My love was strong, but the fear of ending up like my mother was stronger.I met my second husband after living in Miami for several years. We had many happy times and three beautiful children. But trying to juggle my family and a successful career took all my energy. I was so determined to be the perfect wife, mother and professional that I never saw it coming: He started seeing someone else.The night I found out, I couldn’t close my eyes. Yet, the next morning, anxious and exhausted as I was, I took a flight to New York for a scheduled meeting with the President of NBC. It took everything I had to stay focused during a meeting that was valuable to my career. Again, I wasn't going to let anything interfere with my goals, my independence, not even one of the most painful disappointments of my life.I have learned that it is possible to find love — true, passionate, meaningful love — more than once. But there’s a difference between giving your love to someone and letting yourself get lost in love.
Some people may judge me as calculating or unromantic. But nothing is further from the truth. To give yourself in a relationship, you need to be whole; otherwise you have nothing to offer. And that can only be accomplished by achieving your goals as an individual. Then, and only then, will you be able to choose a partner based on their human qualities and not on your insecurities or financial needs. And when you give your heart, they will know that they earned it for all the right reasons.
