The moon guards and protects me as I lose my sanity as I drink too much as I search for someone’s touch the moon sends the Goddess with a message of awareness and I wake up from my trance of self destruction and start an inner healing revolution my purpose was never to be diminished and objectified it was my judgment gone awry and I try respect and worth on for size my beauty is not all there is to me I’m a mosaic of intelligence, love, and creativity never a barbie to be treated as a reward or trophy
me in September of 2022 before boarding a plane to Lima
my mother tells me to dress modestly no loud lipstick, short skirts,tight or revealing clothing I represent my family and currency in my country is prestige and social status- so I need to dress like the hija del ingeniero- it’s the remnants my parents hold on to from their former lives so I’ll put on my mask of señora de la sociedad pretend I care about trivial things mask my true identity of being a socialist, a feminist, and a crazy bitch It’s the least I can do for the people who sacrificed themselves for a better life for me
The experiment of life leaves me breathless with rage Why keep trying love on over and over again when it continually abandons me It’s like a balloon I’m filled up with joy and happiness and then there’s life’s pin of reality makes my balloon burst and I’m reduced to nothingness until I find rage to fuel me to move forward it’s exhausting, it’s madness
I’ve tried on the role of the fun and sexy mistress and failed every single time I need to be the main character in my lover’s story and not relegated to a dirty secret the side chick that’s good enough to fuck but not good enough for a relationship status my love is immense and beautiful and not for those cowards who don’t want all of it I’m an Incan Goddess mixed with Peruvian aristocracy I’m royalty and will treated as such
Give me a man who will buy me everything and I will accommodate to him- Because unlike JLo my love costs all the pretty things dresses, jewelry, vacations in the caribbean give it all to me and you can be my king because if I’m going to be treated like shit by a man in a relationship, at least let it be on a cruise ship
I’m not sure if I have to work as much as I Do but I know what happens when I don’t my electric bill goes in the red a food stamp application is filled and filed for me and my family I start to lose sleep over the bills and the things my kids need and when I fall into dreamland dreams of soup kitchens, panhandling, and scarcity follow me and I end up in the land of poverty, insanity and hypervigilance where I beat myself up for not doing enough to give my kids the life they deserve and I regret my life choices that led me here especially the one where I chose a lazy baby daddy I’m not sure if I have to work as much as I do but I’ll continue to do so until my body shuts down who cares if my hip is broken and I hardly have any time to myself I’d rather work myself to the bone than to allow my family to fall again into being victims of poverty
it wasn’t until today I realized how ordinary you really were It wasn’t that you were ever that interesting or special It was me with my lovergirl delusional glasses refusing to see past what was in front of me Seeing and getting caught up in fantasies of who you could be when really you were, the most ordinary of men not malicious, not especially intelligent not really helpful just kind of existing without any spark without anything that would make me look twice at you now
Pretty gets me in a man’s door but also makes me feel like a whore I’ve been pretty sexy, pretty nice, pretty sweet I’ve also been pretty crazy, pretty Petty, and pretty mean men love me when I’m pretty and submissive but not when I’m pretty reclusive men want the pretty girl who’s fun but not when I’m a pretty girl who’s a selfish cunt pretty gets me notice but also gets me dismissed
As I’m thinking about this answer, two teachers come to mind. One is my 11th Grade English Mrs.Idica and the other is my college professor of creative writing, Dr.Blais.
Who knows what would have happened to these two if it wasn’t for Mrs.Idica 😭😭😭
I took Mrs.Idica’s Asian American Lit and Creative Writing class my junior year of high school. I did really well in my creative writing class but almost flunked the Asian American lit class. I remember not liking her too much at first because she pushed us to do our best and was strict. I think I did well in the creative writing class because I really loved writing poems and little short stories. At the time, I didn’t think it was something I’d ever be passionate about but of course the class did have a great impact on me, here’s a poem I wrote in that class:
Mrs.Idica ended up being my homebound teacher when I was on maternity leave with my first son at the beginning of my senior year. That meant that for 6 weeks, she came to my house to give me my school assignments and helped me with them if I needed help. She would stay and talk to me and always encouraged me to drop out of high school and to continue on. This was important for me to hear as there was pressure from people in my family to drop out and work. She could have easily just dropped off my work and not have these conversations with me but instead she showed up with the compassion and grace I needed during a really dark time in my life. She also had the patience of the saint as I trudge through my school assignments since I was an terrible student. She never gave up on me or told me my life was ruined because I had a child at such a young age. In fact, she was one of the few people who didn’t shame me and reminded me my child was a gift. The encouragement from her and her belief in me really made a difference in my life. I don’t believe I would have put so much effort that last year in high school and graduated on time. I think what made her not just a great but exceptional teacher was that she was caring, had the patience of a saint, and was this light of compassion and encouragement for me when I needed it. This is a poem I wrote about her:
I also want to say that I’m still in touch with her through social media where I share updates about my life and my writing. Even now, she tells me she’s proud of me and that means a lot to me.
Right after taking Dr.Blais class
Another teacher in my life who was exceptional was my creative writing professor Dr. Blais. Like Mrs.Idica, she pushed us to do our best in the class and provided a safe space for us to express ourselves creatively.I also learned to be super disciplined with my writing in her class and the editing process. She was very patient with us and in her class I wrote 3 plays and both of them won 2nd and 3rd place in the college writing competition which meant a lot to me since it was the first time I was writing plays. She also encouraged me to continue writing and even invited me to one of her playwright workshop groups but I couldn’t go due to family obligations. Also, her class was my favorite escape from my busy mom life that included 2 small kids and 3 part time jobs at the time. It was a crazy time in my life where my mental health was a bit touch and go but going to Dr.Blais class helped me cope. Like, Mrs.Idica, Dr.Blais saw potential in me and encouraged me and was incredibly patient in kneading the writer out of me. I think taking her class validated my passion for writing. Especially when the last assignment was making a book which I titled “My Quarter Life Crises” . I felt accomplished in making that little book of my poems and plays. Here’s a link to one of the plays I wrote in her class:
Unfortunately, I lost touch with my Dr.Blais after college and can’t seem to find her anywhere. Last I heard is that she’s had success as a playwright in New York.
I think I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have had two educators show up in my life who made a positive impact on effect. It doesn’t always happen that way (thinking about my super condescending English professor at UGA- but that’s another blog post) . It’s hard to imagine who I would have become without both of them.
as long as there is breath left in me I will try try to be a good mom to my kids try to tell my story try to love everyone the best way i can try to find understanding for what happened to me try to find joy in the most ordinary of moments try to dance my way through my most depressive episodes try find my inner peace and calm
you’ve change from spring to autumn within moments never knew if I should wear my feelings on my sleeve never knew if I should wear layers of cynicism I’ve made it as simple as possible for you and nothing happens and slowly my hope of love recedes in the background
my exes should all get a participation trophy for dating me, for marrying me, for putting up my madness for becoming muses of my poetry unwillingly, unintentionally for surviving the rollercoaster that is me
I hope this story is buried for a final time and you don’t pop up again and I have to play whack an asshole once again blocking you on yet another platform would the universe be kind enough this time for it to be good riddance forever cause I’m tired of my past mistakes to constantly come out of nowhere to disturb my present
I wrote this poem in June of 2024. It was inspired by the disappearance of little Latina girl in my area that I didn’t feel was getting enough media attention.
it’s how this story made me feel
I pray for the little brown girl lost in Gainesville the one that’s my son’s age the one that looks like my sister at that age the one who has my mami’s name I pray she’s found alive I pray that she finds warmth in her parents arms soon I pray more of a big deal is made out of her disappearance and she’s found quickly because I’m sure that if this little girl had been a jonbenet look alike more would have been done to find her and bring her back to her family her community that’s been missing her greatly
I’m ready for steak dinners and an expensive bottle of chardonnay shared over awkward getting to know you conversations with no expectations to put out I’ll be a completely different woman when I’m dating again a woman selective about who allows near her a woman who no longer seeks validation and attention from the wrong men