my favorite animal is a cat. I love them because they’re confident AF and mysterious. they’re also gorgeous creatures. I’ve also had cats as pets in childhood and for a short while a few years ago (that turned out to be a disaster-that’s another blog post-lol). Anyways, one of my most favorite cats was Mr.Jingles, this huge gray and fluffy cat one of the most recent exes had. For the back story, me and this ex were super chaotic and toxic. I think I went there for two reasons, one was to spend time with his cat and the other, well-that’s a story for another time. Anyways, Mr. Jingles had a big personality and always greeted me when I went over there. Also, my ex had him spoiled, and so Mr. Jingles slept in the bed with us also. He was so playful all of the time. He was a big boi, but that didn’t stop him from climbing everywhere. He could also be very sweet at times. I’ve recently been in touch with this ex(another long story, we’re friends now), and he told me that Mr. Jingles met his untimely demise when some dogs got to it. My heart broke in half because I was so fond of this cat. I hope he’s somewhere in cat heaven with all the good ones, including my cats, fluffy and slinky malinky.
our love dream has turned into a nightmare of stagnancy and routine I walk carefully on eggshells to not disturb your peace so you don’t leave- Is this how love is supposed to be? More questions than answers, more confusion than clarity More tears than laughter- I want to stay for the sake of our family but I’m starting to burn with resentment and anger
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
you’re running out of time to give me a place in your life- and I’m running out of patience and love to keep waiting Were your promises lies to keep me by your side? were your words falsehoods to keep your place as my savior, my hero who loves to save me from myself? a hero who’s really a coward- too scared to make a commitment as my permanent lover
It’s been 4 years since I took an oath to become an American citizen. I took an oath specifically to Trump which makes me nauseous typing BUT I also took an oath because of Trump. Before making the decision to become an American citizen, I had never really cared about politics but that was until Trump got elected. If you were a POC or immigrant or both, you felt the shift in the racial tension in the U.S right before the election but especially after the election. Racists overtly made their ignorant beliefs known that immigrants were not welcomed in this country. DACA was in the process of being repealed. DACAmented kids who should have been protected were being deported and there was a rise in deportation for undocumented immigrants as well or well the media made it seem like that. I felt that as an immigrant with LPR (legal permanent resident) status, I could possibly be next. In February of 2016, I sent my paperwork to USCIS to solidify my relationship with America. One could say that for better or worse, I finally decided to make a commitment to this country. Here is my blog post about the process:
What has changed in the past 4 years since becoming an American and what does being American mean to me now?
Well, I’ve voted in 2 elections since I’ve become an American including the national election in 2020 (yay, no more Trump). In October of this year, I applied for my passport and have received it. Now, I can take a trip out of the country without any worries or concerns. While it is an immense privilege to be an American citizen since I now have a whole new world of opportunities opened up and I can travel anywhere; I feel that I haven’t really changed on the inside. I still see myself and identify as an immigrant but now I also call myself an American. But to be honest, my idea of being an American has changed. I used to think I needed a piece of paper to say “Oh, I’m American” but for better or worse, America is and has been ingrained in me since that hot September day in 1986 when I set my foot on American soil at the age of 5.
I was an American when every morning at school I would say the Pledge of Allegiance in my broken and terrible English at the age of 6 and 7.
me in 1987
I was an American when I went back to Peru at age 9 to get my resident alien status solidified with my family.
me at age 9 in Peru during my trip with my family to get our LPR status
I was an American when I met my childhood best friends in Hawaii at age 11.
me with one of my childhood best friends from Hawaii
I was an American when I had my babies at ages 17, 24, and 30.
me with my three kids right after their births
I was American when I started working for the government at the age of 18.
me at the age of 18 in 1999 working for the government
I was an American when I got my college degree in 2009 from the University of Georgia .
me in 2009 with my parents at my graduation from college
I was an American in 2016 and early 2017 when I attended protests and marches for immigrant and women’s rights.
me in January of 2017 at the Women’s March in Washington D.C
And I was an American when people told me, “my english is good for being a Mexican” or I’ve been discriminated against or oppressed in this country by the people that don’t want “my kind” here.
I used to believe that I didn’t belong here because of the racism, prejudice, and ignorance I’ve encountered but that’s no longer the case. This year, I finally let go of those beliefs because I’ve embraced that I am America and America is me. My life may have been harder in many aspects because I wasn’t the average “American born” citizen but I will tell you that I wouldn’t trade my experience as an American to be average. I I feel that working harder than the “average American” for my success has made me appreciate my success so much more and for that I am thankful. My parents had no idea of the many hardships they would endure making the decision to immigrate to this country but I am glad they made that journey. It’s taken me 35 years to get here but today I can honestly say that I’m proud to be an American.
me in November of 2021 telling my crazy story about being an essential worker
five years ago, I was obsessed with a psychopath he made me believe he wanted only me he made himself out to be single for 10 fucking years but one day I found out through his dad’s obituary he was married and I severed our connection without any remorse or apologies from him he claimed he didn’t do anything wrong, he was just a private person that day I received my honorary degree in psychopathy
cupid gets it wrong once again- bringing out a drawn out rejection for a month- This time he tells me, “You’re cool enough to make out with but not good enough for my mom” I almost throw my phone across the room instead I say “it’s cool.it’s okay” and take a pen to my rage on paper
getting to know the new you will be an adventure, and a risk worth taking even if we crash and burn once again because there’s no one else before or after who I loved more
I reflect a lot on who I was, who I am, and who I will be- and I’ve reach the conclusion that I’m proud of all three versions of me Constantly fighting my demons no matter how viciously they came after me Constantly reinventing and rebuilding myself even when the chaotic earthquakes of life broke me apart I reflect on the goddess, the beast in me who always refuses to give up who continues to get and keep going no matter how hard life tries to break me down
a tsunami of trauma washes over me and I regress to being 16- as I walk on the beach where I first fell in love as I stand on the bridge where I lost my shit and almost jumped off- regret and guilt sit at the bottom of my stomach and I want to vomit Instead, I pause and count to ten and breathe and I’m transported back to my present I’m safe again in my body- as I come to accept and love the immature and impulsive girl I once was who carelessly gave herself to others who never thought about the consequences and took risks she wasn’t the atrocity I made her out to be- she was just in a rush to live her life
One day the memory of you will fade away and my heart will be grateful for that- because I can’t move on to a new love story until I stop dreaming of you until I stop writing about you It wouldn’t be fair to me or to him to attempt to write a new love story when remnants of the old one still show up in my poetry
without a care in the world-we danced in the rain enjoying the last vestiges of childhood feeling the wet ground against our feet stomping and laughing and enjoying the miracle of this moment as it rained in paradise
nothing ever happens to my exes after they leave- they don’t blink, they don’t flinch, they don’t need therapy and I’m so incredibly jealous of that! They’re carefree and without any feelings- Absconding without blame or any responsibility While I’m left in a spiral of shame and regret and many times losing my sanity How many more mental breakdowns will I have before accepting= love is always a dangerous game for me- no matter how casual and detached I try to be my nature will always be to give, give, give Until I lose parts of my identity Maybe this is how I keep attracting narcissists?
Life on the BPD 