Eliza
My middle name is Elizabeth. I’m not sure why my parents chose this middle name other than the fact that it was the most generic white sounding name easy to pronounce and a few cousins and one aunt had this middle name. I was never been attached to it until my 30s when I took the shortened version of it, “Eliza” and unintentionally chose this as my alter ego and later on as a pseudonym for my writing. After the great depression of 2016 and 2017, followed what I now called the “great manic episode of 2018” in which Eliza first appeared. During that time, I did many unhealthy and toxic things like go on an array of dating apps, drink heavily, and just indulge in these terrible and self destructive behaviors.

I used Eliza as the profile name for those dating apps and also, when I started blogging again in 2019. After much therapy and introspection, I’ve determined that Eliza is my shadow side, my alter ego that’s been much needed to deal with my depression, my anger, my madness-basically the worst of my mental illness. She was much needed to be able to deal when my emotions got overwhelming and I didn’t know how to keep going. I’ll say that while she’s caused much mischief, as I’ve started to recover from mental illness, she’s been instrumental in healing. I’ve learned to used this side of me to do badass and awesome things like conquer my driving phobia, learn to swim, travel to my homeland, write rage poetry, and perform at open mic.

As time passed and I recovered more and more, I learned that eventually, I’d get to integration of self and I’d had to let go of her. Well, sort of. It took a while to get to the integration of self and this took many steps (I’ll write more about this in another blog post). The last step to get to my integration where I would become my most authentic self was my divorce which was 6 months ago. I knew as soon that afternoon after my divorce was finalized, I’d have to let go of Eliza, as a pseudonym, an alter ego, a protective entity to protect me. That afternoon, I switched all of my social media profiles and my two blogs to my real name.

It was a very scary thing to do but a much needed one to finish this process of integration I started a few years ago. It was hard because for so long I hung onto this part of me that had gotten through the roughest of times and also, using my real name everywhere was extremely uncomfortable but I had to do it. I’m not going to lie and say that Eliza is completely gone because she’s not but she’s integrated into who I am now and I no longer use her as an excuse when my anger gets the best of me and a rage poem comes out. The best way to put it is that I’ve fully accepted that she’s a part of Patty but no longer controls me, defines me or is even the worst of me. She just is. I’ve learned the past few years how to manage this part of me in a much healthier manner that’s been productive and helpful to me in achieving my goals. Here are three poems I’ve written about her:

Eliza and Patty
If you’re gonna love Patty-you’re going to have to live with Eliza
She’s the dark and loud side of me
I try to keep her at bay , I try to ignore her
But then something angers me and she appears
I used to loathe her and say-hey, that’s not me-but now I accept
She’s always been a part of me
She makes me brave and strong-she makes me crazy and creative
I haven’t had writers block since I’ve stop trying to suppress her
And while it’s embarrassing that I have an alter ego
She was necessary for progress and growth
10/13/22
Shadow
my shadow waits and waits to be integrated
she’s been patient long enough
she wants me to feel the true power of being whole
she’s stayed too long in the sidelines as I called her “bad”
and a “complete stranger” and I was ashamed of her
and at times she jolted me and came out during my bouts
of impulsivity or my super angry poetry
and now I finally understand she’s me
Well the part within me I hate to acknowledge
but I’m no longer afraid of her
and understand her and am ready for her
to be acknowledged and take her rightful place within
She will no longer be treated like a dirty mistress
Nah, she’ll rule like a queen and I’ll feel whole and empowered
11/26/22
I run with my shadow
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 heard, seen and loved
12/10/22
Sad and empowered girl writer vibes on a Sunday
poetry: am I even your type?
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

am I reading too much into the attention and energy you’re giving me
the casual messages, the comments on my posts
the nervous vibe and the hug you gave me the first time we met
It felt like chemistry
Am I even your type?
Or is this the beginning of beautiful friendship
One that will last, one that will be healthy
Without the complications and expectations
that lust or love brings
poetry: i’m finally ready
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

This time I feel like I’ve finally settled most of my soul’s score
by doing so much inner work
I still have toxic and angry moments but they no longer consume me
This year I’m manifesting a new kind of love energy
Someone who can match my wild and creative energy
Someone who values me as a whole person
and doesn’t just fall in lust with my body
Someone brave enough to love me and doesn’t scare easily
when I’m challenging and moody
this year I’m opening myself to love energy
who makes me laugh, who inspires me
I think I’m finally ready
poetry: happy valentine’s day 2023
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

valentine’s day is around the corner
so we’re bombarded by teddy bears,balloons,
greetings with corny shit like
“for my wife, the love of my life”
and flowers, the fucking flowers
there are even journals for couples to fill out
in hope of getting closer-
I still can’t figure that one out
and stupid heart shaped everything,
from cookie cutters to pillows
and flowers, the fucking flowers
and most of us eat it all up thinking
if our partner doesn’t buy us anything
or doesn’t meet our romantic expectations
on the most materialistic of holidays,
then they must not really love us-
never occurring to us how this business of love
preys on us and our fear of being lonely
it capitalizes and profits from it
sending us messages that we need
to buy this or that (get the flowers,
the fucking flowers) to show our love
it’s a trap that followed us since our school days
maybe it’s time to riot and burn down anything
related to this dreadful holiday
especially the fucking flowers
or maybe I’m just a crazy and jaded bitch
alone on valentine’s day
poetry: one day
I wrote this in February of 2020.

One day you’ll be a bad dream I’ll wake up from
One day someone will come along and you’ll be a distant memory
of an intense and toxic past who took over my life for a while
One day I’ll be loved by someone the way you could never love me
One day I’ll look back on our time together and regret every moment wasted on you
One day you won’t haunt my soul and mind
One day you will no longer be my muse
One day is here, now and forever
poetry: it stops with me
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.

If only I could bypass the trauma lived and experienced
my life would be a lot easier
Perhaps I’d be fulfilled and not on this neverending heroine journey
to acknowledge how trauma happened to me
to understand how it changed me
to tells the stories from it so I can begin to heal from it
to do all of the work so I don’t pass it on to my sons
and their children
because this legacy of intergenerational silence with violence
needs to stop with me
even if it’s sometimes a painful nightmare to deal with
two poems about my phobia

calling it a phobia of dating/relationships could be over dramatic but idk…it feels like that sometimes. It used to be so easy for me to just go from relationship to the next (sometimes without even ending the next relationship) until one day there was this final straw and I found myself with a shit ton of mental health issues and trauma I needed to address and heal from. If I had to be honest with myself at this point in my life, I don’t blame my past partners for this. I think that from my teenage years on, I’ve been following this pattern of falling into these unhealthy relationships and patterns. I realized this a few years ago after my diagnosis of BPD. I know I needed to do something so I just stopped dating or making myself available to anyone for romantic/sexual interest. It was hard and I always put these arbitrary deadlines on myself of when I would start again like, “oh after I beat my driving phobia” or “oh after I finish this round of therapy “or “oh, after I’m divorced” and those deadlines came and went and it just never happened. Every time I think about going on a first date with someone and that person would ask me something inconsequential like “what’s your favorite color?” I see myself going to the bathroom and throwing up and coming back with an excuse of how something came up with my kids (it”s great to have kids in this instance-they make very good excuses) and leaving the date. Until a few months ago, this used to make me sad and made me feel like a freak. But, lately, I’ve accepted that this is who I am now. With the level of awareness I have about myself now, I know what I need to be in control of my life, my autonomy, and my mental health and my Aquarius in Venus mind tells me that relationships seem to be make me lose control of all of those aspects.

Also, for the past few years, I’ve made sure to make my life full of everything I need to not feel like I need someone to fill some kind of void or space in my life. There’s basically no space or void like that now. My boys, my friends, my art, work, and my hobbies fill that space.

what would it take me to get me to date? Yung Gravy, Joji, or Jack Harlow sliding into my DMs. Lol. In all seriousness, I don’t know. I think I want to just enjoy my life as it is now . I will say that if somehow the stars do align and someone appears in my universe that strikes my fancy, then I wouldn’t be completely closed off to it.

Too wild
On days like today, I feel too wild, too untamed
to be loved, to be handled by anyone
I feel like too much and I won’t find anyone who’s enough
and I wonder if I’ll really be alone forever
because right now that’s what my future looks like
and it’s not me trying to diss any potential love candidates
it’s me acknowledging how much of an earthquake,
a hurricane, a tsunami I can be
and even though I’ve done the work to tame my inner demons
It still feels like there is still so much work left to do
before I feel confident enough to invite anyone else into my chaos
3/9/23
Copy and paste
Copy and paste, copy and paste, copy and paste
Partners, unhealthy love patterns, delusions of love
it happens over and over again
And I try my best to change this narrative
and sometimes it seems to work
but most of the time it was me denying what’s in front of me
A man who treats me like his inferior
Allowing him to step on my boundaries
trying to keep myself small enough so he doesn’t leave
and I’ve lost count of how many times this has happened to me
And I’m fucking tired of it
So I put a pause on love for a while
Until I can figure out how to produce healthy love energy
And ensure I don’t settle again for anyone
who treats me less than the majestic and magical queen that I am
2/4/23
poetry: charade of love
I wrote a version of this poem in 2005. It was about my frustration with the relationship I was in at the time.

I’m hanging on to my last thread of sanity
trying to accommodate to our new reality
I know monotony happens even in the best relationships
but this feels like the death of our love
Where did your yearning for me go?
You used to worship me and call me Godly
now I can barely get you to look at me
and when I say anything, you call me crazy
so I’m going to swallow my words
and pretend I’m okay with this charade of love
poetry: lesson
aqui esta el poema original que inspiró este poema:
Poesía: Falso 2005
we were another lesson in love lost and mourned
I tried everything to make it work
even where it was past our expiration date
I never wanted our children to be products of a broken home
but even my best efforts could not fight how different we were
or our long term story of incompatibility
it wasn’t your fault or mine
we were just both too stubborn to see what was in front of us
a friendship that should’ve stayed platonic
but you fell in deep for me
and I was tired wanted to settle
and we made it work until one day I realized it wasn’t enough
three poems about love
I wrote these three poems in November of 2022 when I was still married. One thing I wanted to mention about the first poem is that even though my ex no longer serves me breakfast, he’s still super reliable. For example, my car decided to kiss another car this morning (car accident) and he was the first one I called to help as I was overwhelmed. Granted, we still live in the same house but he didn’t have to come and still came. I’m glad we are still able to be friends despite the fact that we’re divorced. I think that when it comes to love, familial and friendship love is the best kind of love there is out there for me.

little reminders
little reminders of how I’m loved
greet me on daily basis
breakfast served by my starter husband
my son asking me if I’m okay
my coworker saying one of my poems moved her
the cold breeze in the air kissing my face
my favorite song playing on the radio at the right time
it’s the little reminders that give me hope in humanity
11/20/22
friends
friends provide everything a lover hasn’t been able to-
an unconditional love and acceptance
where they provide a space for me to be who I really am
they don’t care if I’m dramatic or loud
they encourage me when I’m down
and they never leave me when I’m too much
11/19/22
my community
community is my tia’s buenos dias on whatsapp
or mami’s phone calls to check up on me
community is greeting my fellow runners on my route
or laughing with my coworkers about the latest absurd policy
community is blasting yung gravy from my car radio
or vomiting my feelings out on paper or at open mic
community is everyone and everything I love
11/9/22
poetry: private thing
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

This time it will be different-I lie to myself over and over again-
and for a while I’ll believe it-but it never works out and they always leave-
And I wonder how words fail me when this happens-
it’s a magnitude of emotions-
Intense, mega, uber, all consuming, overwhelming-
Some things cannot adequately expressed even with bilingual vocabulary-
maybe not everything is meant to be written down
it’s just meant to be felt, held intimately in my heart and mind
maybe it’s a private thing between me and the universe
poetry: beginner’s luck
aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Vete de Aqui
We’ve lost our beginner’s luck and now see who we really are
two incompatible souls too stubborn to be alone
and let go of our made up illusion of love
and between our uncomfortable silences,
your distant demeanor, and my growing resentment
it’s better to close our chapter of love
before I start to really hate you
let’s end this while we can still walk away as friends
poetry: raising my standards
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

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


