When I think of a good leader, I think of the good bosses I’ve been lucky to have. In my opinion, a good leader treats their workers with respect, is compassionate while also holding their subordinates accountable for their errors. A good leader also challenges and encourages their subordinates to evolve and improve. An example of a good leader is my gen-z boss at Kroger who’s always been kind and respectful to me and who has gone out of his way to accommodate to my scheduling needs when my life got crazy. He also gave and my other coworker a $100 gift card for Christmas. At 23, he’s more mature and way better than some of the bosses I’ve had who were way older. It makes me want to always work hard at Kroger. An example of shitty leader is Joe Biden. IMO, my genz boss would make a far better president than Joe Biden.
when it comes down to it, my mission in life is simple, it’s to be a good person and a good mom. that means being able to sleep at night with a clear conscious at night and knowing that I have done my best that day. that means giving my children the best of me most of the time.
my granddaughters will love me even as they rolls their eyes at me- as I try to awkwardly relate to their slang and taste in music- they’ll be like “abue-that’s so special” and while I’ll know what they’re trying to say I’ll annoy them even more out of spite or to make them laugh my granddaughters will appreciate that I’m not like other grandmas
I wrote the poem above a year ago thinking about what kind of grandmother I’d be. One thing is for sure, I won’t be like my mom who goes above and beyond her role of mamacita and is the most wonderful grandmother to mine and my siblings kids. I’ll be different but in a fun way. If I’m blessed/cursed to live a very long life (which could happen because my grandparents on my maternal side have lived past their 90s), I want to be like my grandparents who had a very good quality of life until the end. I want to be as active as possible in my old age.
me with my grandmother in 2014
I also envision myself as a storyteller with my granddaughters gathered around me as I tell them about the olden days before the internet or when we had to take our pictures to the photo place to get them developed. I want to be as candid as possible with them about my misadventures in life and love so maybe they’ll learn from my mistakes and learn to have grace with themselves when they make mistakes. I want to be a safe space for my granddaughters when they have problems. I also want to be like my great-great-grandmother Mercedes who still smiled for the camera in her old age while holding her beer in her hand.
My great great grandmother Mercedes
It would also be kind of ironic if I did live to my 90s and beyond, considering how I’ve been romanticizing death since I was 15. However, at the end of the day, I do love being alive on most days and do try my best to be as healthy as possible to live a long live to annoy my loved ones, especially my granddaughters. I’m kind of excited to see what technological advances I’ll live to see. Like, will AI become part of our everyday existence? I mean, it already is part of mine with Alexa waking me up every day. Will men, gasp, finally do their part and take birth control pills instead of leaving it up to women to take responsibility? Will there be a magic pill for PMDD for future generations of women who can take it so they don’t go to crazy town every month? Will the internet read your algorithms so hardcore they erase any vestiges of anyone you have a falling out with from your phone/social media? I’m not sure if any of these questions will be answered, but it would be great if some of them were.
I never asked to be born, much less to be a mosaic of trauma, insanity, and creativity I prayed many times to be normal-to be someone else but the day came when I had to embrace the masterpiece of duality and insanity that I am to understand not everyone will understand me to do the best I am with the deck of cards I’ve been handed
I want the transparency of your being- the stuff you won’t show anyone else the secrets you’re afraid to share I want your vulnerability in our intimacy Even if you think it’s messy or cringy I promise I won’t judge and there will be no need for sorries now that I’m falling for you I want to know every part of you I won’t do what the others have done to you or me I’ll stay because love means loyalty and honesty
it’s okay to make mistakes-it’s part of being human
I almost drowned in a whirlpool of shame today because I made a mistake because I’m an imperfect human but I breathe in deeply self compassion and grace and accept this is a small blunder in my life and it shouldn’t take up too much space in my mind And I needed to be a friend to myself Understand I won’t always be flawless- Afterall I’m only mortal
When I tell you I’m a poet- please take me seriously don’t think I’m some cute girl who writes a few verses in her room about how your kiss is a new kind of heaven Poetry for me has a much deeper meaning, poetry is how I bleed out all of my emotions I hold within
When I tell you I’m a poet- please don’t laugh at me or mock me don’t berate the simplicity of my words I weave into verse It’s how I make sense of my explosion of thoughts It’s how I express what I can’t say out loud
When I tell you I’m a poet- don’t try to cure me of my poetic nature and prey on my insecurities and try to kill my dreams of making my art seen I know how the odds are stacked against someone like me I don’t do it to make it to the mainstream- I do it so other women like me can be seen, can be inspired to dream
And finally when I tell you I’m a poet- Appreciate the artist in me, make yourself a sanctuary to put my poetry in- I’m not asking for endless compliments or an ego boost I’m asking for a safe space in you to love the poet I hold within
this could be and my lonely chicken nugget but he’s too scared to date me…no idea why..lol
On days when I’m hopeful about love- my laugh is lighter, my smile is brighter, my thoughts are the color of the sky thinking of the endless possibilities of how I’ll be loved and the many places me and my future somebody will go- while my cringy playlists play on the car radio and the many discussions or fights that might happen because one of us said the wrong thing or one of us won’t admit we got lost I”m still hopeful though keeping in mind that conflict is also part of how we’ll evolve
me in feb of 2023…trying to reclaim the softness in me
I’m graduating from writing about revenge and everyone who has harmed me I’m switched this narrative from woman scorned and full of spite To a woman reborned opened to love and joy in life While it’s fun to be petty and mean It’s better for me to reclaim the corny romantic in me the one I’ve kept hidden for 18 months the one who cries at the end of rom coms the one who’s desperate to fall in love again to continue this narrative about how I’m in love with my solitude no longer suits me when I have a universe of love to give
me in January of 2023…I give no fucks when I’m angry
when my inner bitch wakes up and rises-you better watch out I have no scruples, I have no morals my wrath has no limits I’ll come after you with my words call you out for hurting me or my loved ones I’ll forget everything I learned in therapy about compassion, about forgiveness I won’t just act like a woman scorned I’ll act like a villain in a horror movie out for revenge
my transformation and rebirth meant giving voice to my shadow who’s vindictive, petty, and mean I’ve never really allowed her to breathe much less be seen and now she’s almost everywhere- taking space in uncomfortable spaces learning she’s not bad- she just needed attention and to feel valued I’ve finally accepted she’s an important part of me who needs to be seen
I’m tired of same repetitive compliments You’re so pretty, so sexy and if they’re really “trying” you’re BEAUTIFUL but never in my life have i been call a masterpiece, intelligent, or have I been told that I inspire poetry? and old lonely me would entertain these flimsy lust or love possibilities kept my standards low to keep my bed warm and to escape my chronic emptiness but after almost a year of solitude my standards have been raised to the ceiling and now I’m protective of my energy anyone who wants to get near me will have to make a solid effort write me poetry, take me out to steak dinners and buy me pretty dresses and notebooks
Life on the BPD 