Page 100 of My Spanish Love Affair

I try to keep reading, but the words are blurring together now. I try and calm myself, but my hands feel clammy as I swipe down the screen.

In a rare, candid moment, Olivia Bennett opens up about the pressures of living in the public eye, though it’s clear that she still struggles to accept the attention that comes with dating someone as famous as Santiago Ortiz.

“People only see me as Santi’s girlfriend,” she admits, her voice laced with frustration. “They don’t see the work I’m doing.”

While it’s understandable that she feels overshadowed by the immense popularity of her partner, one has to wonder if she’s simply trying to carve out her own identity in a world that seems so far removed from the humble life she once knew.

“I just want to be taken seriously. I’ve worked so hard to get where I am,” she continues, “and yet it feels like it’s all overshadowed by who I’m with.”

The sentiment is familiar, and one can only imagine how difficult it must be to adjust to such a shift in attention, even if her contributions to her field are far less publicised than Santiago’s stellar career.

I’m reading my own words, but they don’t feel like mine.

They feel distorted. Twisted out of context.

I didn’t speak with frustration laced in my voice. Did I?

No. I didn’t. I know that I didn’t.

And I wasn’tcomplaining- at least, I didn’t mean to! I was just explaining how hard it was to balance two completely different worlds, the world of teaching that I loved and the world of fame that I never asked for.

I was just trying to be honest, to bereal.To explain that my work matters to me.

But that doesn’t - andshouldn’t- make me Santi’s whiney, unappreciative girlfriend.

The teacher, who has been an educator for over three years, is currently trying to make her mark in the education world.

But as Bennett herself points out, 'It’s hard to be seen for what you are when all the media cares about is who you’re dating.’

My chest tightens in the worst way at the realisation that this has all gone terribly wrong.

I try to keep reading, hoping it gets better, hoping there’s something in this article that redeems what I said; but I know from the tone of the article that it’s just not coming.

Still, the article goes on, recounting my personal struggles in a way that feels entirely fabricated.

It’s as if they’ve taken my attempt to explain and molded it into something they can sell to the public: the story of a woman who is only ever seen in relation to the man she’s with, who can’t even define herself outside of his name.

Just as I’m about to give up, my eyes fall on the next line.

Sources close to the couple confirmed that Olivia’s summerprogramme will be taking place at Colegio de la Paz, a small secondary school located in the heart of Valencia. The school’s involvement adds another layer of prestige to the programme, as Bennett works alongside local organisations to bring about change in the educational sector.

My stomach lurches as I read the words.

My school.They named my school.

After promising that they wouldn’t - after Javier looked me in the eye and gave me his word that my school, my colleagues, mystudentswould be kept anonymous in all of this…

My eyes scan the sentence over and over again, hoping it will change.

As if I can somehow undo what has already been done.

The words blur before me, but they’re clear enough. It’s my school - the place where I’ve poured my heart and soul over these past few months - and now it’s part of a story I never agreed to.

My students, my work, my future… they’re all suddenly tangled up in this narrative of my relationship with Santi. A relationship that’s not just mine anymore, but now a part of the public spectacle.

I never wanted this. I never asked for any of it. The reality of my career, my purpose, my identity is being twisted into something else entirely - something I don’t recognize.

My school. My students. My calling.

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