I hope I’m making you proud…

I find myself going through all of our photos together.
Patrick and I. Alex and I. Patrick, Alex and I. I’m reminiscing of all the memories we’ve had. All the laughs. All the crying. All the fighting. You two are my family. I can’t even begin to explain how much you two have helped me become who I am. You’ve helped me in my hardest times. You’ve smiled so bright seeing me accomplish some of my goals. I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with, but you two have never given up on me. To think that I’m going to break us apart, breaks my heart. But it’s only temporary. We will be all together again. I’m going to work so hard for us. I hope I can make you two proud. Please be proud of me and don’t be mad that I’m leaving. I know this is going to hurt to say “see ya later”. But it’ll get better, I promise. We’ll make new memories, sometimes in different ways. But they’ll be our new memories as a family.

You two are going to be in my life until the day I die. And I’m going to make sure this trio is the most loving trio ever.

I love you Patrick.
I love you Alex.

I hope I’m making you proud.


Te Extraño…

Sometimes when I look at old pictures of Wela and I, I think “oh wow, we need to take a new picture together”. And then I go to call her, only to remember I can’t. Only to remember we will never be able to take a new picture together. In two days it’ll be six years since you left us Wela. Six long years. But it feels like you’re with me every day. I mean, I talk to you every day. We still laugh and cry together. So maybe you’re still here in some sense. I miss you a lot Wela. I really wish we could cook together again. I really wish I could hear the stories of your childhood in Cuba again. I wish you were here to help me find Baby when I would lose her. I wish you could hug me again. I wish you could be here to see me graduate college and send me off to California like we planned. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. But you’re with Abuelo now, and I know that’s something you’ve wanted for a very long time. And at the end of the day, I want you to be so happy. You deserve it after how well you looked after our family. I miss you every day Wela, but I find comfort in knowing I’ll see you again. I can’t wait for you to introduce me to Abuelo, I hope we get along. I’m sure we will since you said I’m like his exact clone. In the meantime, I’ll keep doing my best. Who knows, maybe I’ll win that Oscar. I hope you’re proud of me.
Te extraño Wela.



I’m going to talk to someone…

Yesterday was an interesting day. I was going through my normal routine. Wake up, get picked up by my friend Emiline, go to Japanese class, and then meet up with Patrick before I go to rehearsal and or home.

Patrick and I decided to change things up a little and instead of eating disappointing food provided by FSU, we went to Chili’s. Whilst eating, Patrick took a moment to tell me he wasn’t happy. There’s an explanation why he wasn’t but it is honestly not my place to speak on it. But in that moment, I felt open enough to share that I also was having a hard time with certain overlapping feelings. We both sat there not sure exactly how to process that the both of us, who are always laughing and checking the cute boys out, were in fact not happy. Patrick had mentioned that he was thinking about going to a therapist on campus. I encouraged him to go because I know how much it can help (although I’ve never gone myself). But I expressed to him how I wished I could go but my insurance. He then told me “Therapy is free on campus, it’s something the school provides for students”.

So we went to check out the center for therapy. They were nice and informed us we need a meeting session before we actually had therapy session. Patrick and I are going this Friday.

I’m actually very nervous for this but just the act of going and knowing I’m ready to start this has lifted some of the weight off of my shoulders. So hopefully talking to someone helps, I know it will.


I Feel Isolated Within My Own Family…

I fall for it every time. I just got off the phone with my sisters. It was a good conversation for the first half, and then they started (like they always do) bashing me. They bashed my sexuality and the fact I feel free to express it, they bashed my knowledge on what I’m getting my degree in because they think their one class makes them more of an expert than my many years of studying, they bashed me on me identifying as a abled-passing disabled women of color, only because they don’t understand ableism, labels (how labels can sometimes be harmful yet so helpful and powerful when used correctly) and how the disabled community is still considered less than in society, and how it’s really empowering for myself personally to be able to finally say out loud that I am in fact disabled (which is funny because although one of my sisters says she’s not disabled and she doesn’t want that label, which is fine because she’s allowed NOT to identify with it, for the sake of her making me feel bad (and win her argument) she used the sentence “I can say this because I’m disabled”, um what? You’re completely disregarding the fact that you are also talking to someone who is disabled.) And then they reminded me that because I can’t financially be there for my nephews and I won’t be able to visit because I’m moving in the summer to set up my life, that I don’t love my nephews (mind you they said this again in ear range of my nephews). It’s hurtful, but the fact that I’m upset about all of this, in their eyes means I’m too sensitive and I need to get over it. It’s always two against one, I’m sick of it. I wish I had the confidence to stand up for myself to them, and to be able to articulate my beliefs without stumbling over my words or being talked over. I wish I had someone on my side to help me. I hate how isolating I feel within my own family.
I kind wished I had loving, supportive sisters that occasionally gets into fights with me over stupid stuff like clothes or food. Not ones that act as if my very own existence is a burden to everyone including them.

“I’m Not Racist, But…”

When your white friends say they’re not racist, transphobic, homophobic, etc. yet every other thing they say is problematic and they refuse to learn and understand the problems minorities and people of color like myself have to go through. When they know #BlackLivesMatter through a FOXNEWS light, so they don’t actually understand what the movement is about and how it’s not about police hate. When they don’t understand why we have a Black History Month and how important it is. When they don’t understand that the media is portraying Muslims as terrorists and how dangerous that is. When they go around saying the Eurocentric names they want for their children, yet my sister is strange for naming her beautiful Latino children Guillermo and Manolo. When they expect me to be able to pronounce these white names and words perfectly, yet they can’t take the time to learn to say my family’s names and words within my culture because “it’s too hard”. Or maybe you didn’t want to try hard enough? When they call people retarded, use ableist language or don’t get why people with disabilities should be viewed as equal (especially when they know me, a disabled woman, am I not equal?). When they say a woman is ugly and she’s trashy only because she’s showing her sexuality the way a man would, how they say the feminist movement is to hate men. When in reality feminism not only helps women by fighting the patriarchy, it helps men as well by fighting the same patriarchy that hurts them. It’s frustrating as hell because they refuse to learn and understand, they refuse to recognize that they have privilege and that doesn’t mean they didn’t experience their own struggle, it just means they’ve never faced the systematic oppression many people of color face on a daily basis.

They refuse to grow, and change with a country that so desperately needs change. It makes me fear for my baby sobrinos, it makes me fear to bring children in this world knowing they might be hated because they’re Latino like their mother. It brings me fear that I know people with these thoughts and they’re right around my corner. Yet sadly, this kind of fear they’ll never understand simply because they refuse to.