My Identity is No One Thing


I think a lot. A lot!
My mind is difficult to tame.
One of the topics that occupies a great deal of time is my identity. My image.
I see myself a very incredibly diverse and unique individual.
I am no one thing. No one culture. No one color.
I am Mexican by birth. I happened to be born on a patch of dirt in a small town but my love and roots run deeper.
I am American by migration and upbringing

I love you. I appreciate you.


We are all products of our upbringing. Good or bad. My father was an alcoholic. Beat me. Beat us. Yet, I loved him. I wanted to be him. I wanted him to love me. As a child I never heard many words of encouragement. Much less of love. In talking to other Mexican children from my generation I’ve found it to be a theme. I needed his love! I needed his respect. I needed to know that I was...

My mornings


The light eventually punches through the blinds and I open my eyes. Eventually. Most days my mind wakes me before my body is truly ready to rise. I find it funny most days. Other days I want to punch my mind. It took me years to realize that I have a very particular way to wake up and be ready to take on the day’s challenges. It took me years to honor my body. I tried to force it to do...