My dancing partner is taking a break. I’m suppose to be cleaning w/ the broom but who can say no to dancing to Celoso by Toppaz.

This song brings back childhood memories of being in Mexico. Spending summers with my prima Laura… Driving down my abuelita Lilia’s callejon. Potholes everywhere, my body swaying from the bumps, the tienditas where I always went to buy my coca cola and rancheritos passing by . The bright sun’s heat coming in through my Tio Carlos blue van. Looking out the window and feeling comfortably home. I miss my Mexico…

As this memory beautifully plays in my mind,  somber  memories creep up…dancing drunk to this song, tears rolling down after drinking a bottle of wine start coming to me…. cleaning brokenhearted. Closing my eyes…singing at the top of my lungs,  para desahogarme. Swaying my body to sooth my soul…. and only to find myself opening my eyes to an Islander’s deceiving smile.

In the end, This song….music…. has seen my heart’s most inconsolable collapses and my most treasured joys.







The gardener came today.

Lots of work ahead of him.

Confessions of a Big Shit Chingona

Sometimes you think you’re all big shit chingona.You have a sense of empowerment…emancipation…relief… when you’ve moved forward and have overcome something, or people, that have hurt you.  I’m suppose to be a  better person, I’m suppose to be looking for peace, forgiving…letting go…moving forward…. But I find myself fuming with anger, resentful, casting blame, feeling that losing control is not acceptable… But sometimes you’re so overwhelmed, beyond control,  by emotions and memories…and all of a sudden everything you’ve been working towards is thrown out the window.

They say you never forget your first love. I wish I could forget mine but forgetting would mean avoiding the pain…

I’ve received a lot of blows to my heart and my heart is now like…hmmm….. a  hobbits foot. Filled with callos, thorned, and can withstand the roughness of every step.

You should always make it a point to walk away from people who hurt you, as hard as that may be, you have to. Its a process, a long one. A hard one. You forgive yourself and those who hurt you… you learn to love yourself and embrace the people who wpid-img_64351428990169.jpegsurround you with happiness, and you become the beautiful person that you deserve to be and have always been deep down. This will lay down the gravel for that new path. And you do this for yourself. Just yourself.

Life always gives you opportunities to look back. I’ve been praying for an opportunity to let go of my past but when I was confronted by that monster of years past, I was thrown against the wall. I cried, llore…not for him…not for me, but for that pain. That heartache. That pendeja that I use to be. I was carried away by memories…to that winter night alone in bed. I remember the warmth of my tears rolling down my face.  I could feel the cold air in the back of my throat as I gasped for the breathe my sobs had taken away. And as I looked around, I wpid-img_64489783779110.jpegsaw that I was surrounded by the clutter of all the useless things I had lugged around for so long.

I saw myself in that room again but this time I was so enraged.  I said, “que te vallas a la chingada.”  People only have the power over you when you give it to them and for many years I was La Pendeja that  gave people the power to dictate my path. And in that moment of total emotional, exasperating, exposing  surrender, I found that I had the huevos to say no. No to his twisted account of things, no to his selfishness, to his fictitious love. I know I loved. I know I gave him everything I had and in doing so I learned the biggest lesson of a heartache. I deserve the same kind of love that I know I can give.

So yes….sometimes you think you’re big shit chingona…and then…. you realize that you ARE big shit chingona….and you wear it proudly because the wounds have turned to scars and those scars are a constant reminder that you have survived the deepest kind of pain, which ever that may be…how profoundly it is felt…. A heartache.