Carrying every single emotion

Of not just my own

But of those who I love around me.

As a teacher, it’s especially bad

Because I find love for each of my students and I physically feel the emotions they carry when they come into the classroom.

But there’s also beauty in being an empath

I feel emotions as if they are physical

Sometimes it’s like petting my dog, other times it is like petting a cactus

But what’s especially beautiful

Is that I physically feel the love around me

And am overwhelmed with joy

When someone brings me food because I’m sick

Or another rubs my back and takes my temperature

To normal people this is the bare minimum

To me it’s beautiful that I’m surrounded by such love

There’s days where I feel at rock bottom

Where I feel the love and time I give is never reciprocated like how I give it

But in this moment in time

I feel I’ve gotten everything I’ve deserved

The thing about grief

It’s a hole in your chest

It never really goes away

But as time goes on

You learn to heal around it.

4 years have passed, when I arrived I was anticipating that hole in my chest to burn

But it didn’t

I listened to our song

Nothing

Not a tear or a burn

As I sat on the dried grass I felt it scratch up against the back of my thighs

I felt the ants crawl around and on me

And my mind went blank

Every worry and stressor I had went away in that moment

I heard the birds chirp around me

The hot dessert air brush my face

I felt a presence as I stared at your name and birthday

But it didn’t make me feel sad

As I sat and talked to the rock with your name on it

As if it were a time we sat together at the dining table

I talked and told you about life

and I imagined your laugh and your voice

The thing about grief

Is that it never goes away

But as time goes on

I’ve learned to heal and live around it

Every airport ride

Every 2am call

Because what you deem as an inconvenience

I deem as an act of love

And it is no bother to do such acts

To feel the emotions you feel

And fill the spaces in where you don’t understand how to feel

And to understand the emotions I don’t quite understand

To be loved by me

Means every little thing that excites you

I’m willing to try a million times

To be loved by me

Shows in ways other people might not understand

The unwavering loyalty

That could never be found anywhere else

When I sit in a room with people with a million emotions

I feel every. single. one.

To sit with a grieving mother who is afraid of their own child’s emotions

Who is scared to hurt others,

But more scared of hurting her own

The confusion and pain behind her eyes

I felt it

I felt the frustration of no one else knowing how she feels

I felt the grief behind her eyes

The worry of not being good enough.

I feel like my iceberg is that people see me as a very emotional person

But beneath it all, I understand everyone and everything

and it clouds my own judgement because I’m always “being considerate of them.”

I embrace being an empath when no one else cares

I embrace it when no one else understands

Sentenced to a life of imprisonment of others’ emotions

and never putting mine first

And I still grieve being home with my family.

400 miles away

And I still worry every time someone gets sick

I still talk to my mom every day

But it’s not the same as being with her every day

Maybe there is something wrong with me

Or I just am still too attached

There are days when I long for a hug

And living alone feels too

lonely

There are days when I talk to my sister

and I miss living with her

Maybe I just miss my childhood on those days

And no one talks about this juxtaposition

where you want to live back at home

but you love the life you built away from it

where you want to depend on family

but you love how you can depend on yourself

There is this constant battle where I sometimes wish I were closer to my family

But also how much I would have missed out on if I never left

As a little girl, I always loved the color pink

Pink room, pink dresses, pink shoes

The time when my innocence met femininity

A time when my Dad and Grandpa treated me as their little girl

But

There was a point in time

Where the only color I wore was black

I tried yellow and brown

But the color that fit me best was black.

At that time, I felt masculine

Not in the ways you think

I was the provider

I carried the weight of my own groceries up the stairs

I opened my own doors

and drove myself everywhere

I thought this was independence

I refused to depend on a man

And often times, I felt sad

It was nice to be independent

So I called it

But I also wanted to depend on something

As soon as I opened the doors to something new

I grew into the color blue

purple

green

But still never pink

It still didn’t feel like me.

It wasn’t until that door, opened back into my childhood

Where love was on the other side

It met me with open arms

And told me what I really deserve

It embraced me with things I didn’t know I needed

Things I didn’t know I loved

Like the color pink

It began to sink

That's when the groceries are too heavy, I can ask for help

I don’t always need to open my own door

Or drive myself everywhere

I feel as happy as if I were a little girl

Who twirled around in dresses

I could be an independent person

While being loved by an independent person

And that’s when I

again

began to love

the color pink

And this specific poem made me think more than it should have

Nothing Gold can Stay by Robert Frost is a poem about the beauty of spring

and how the season of life, and revival is rich and priceless

But I felt there was a much deeper meaning to it.

Natures first green is gold

Her hardest hue to hold

Her early leafs a flower

But only so an hour

Then leaf subsides to leaf

So Eden sank to grief

So dawn goes down to day

Nothing gold can stay.

Gold is something so valuable to us, that we praise it for a moment, then move on to the next

Frost’s intent for this poem was to describe spring, and how its most precious and beautiful moments are only for a short period of time

So it’s important to appreciate it in the moment

But life’s most valuable moments are like Frost’s spring

They’re so beautiful but so hard to hold on to

They only last an hour

Nothing in life is permanent

Even our gold memories

fade as we age

But as long as we appreciate them for what they are

Gold will always come back

Little did I know that the city was NOT filled with people who looked like me

Or maybe it was the area I was in

All of my friends for almost 7 years were white

“1/8th Irish, 1/10th German” etc.

One point in time, someone asked me, “How Mexican are you?”

I remember calling my mom that night and asking how the hell I'm supposed to respond to that

I’m not 1/8th, 1/4th, or even half.

If I’m half Mexican, what is the other half supposed to be?

As the years went on, I just let the comments roll off my back

Eventually, I made Hispanic friends, and it still felt like a disconnect.

Now, with current events, it feels as if everyone is embracing their Hispanic side and wants to be a victim of the disparities

And honestly, it pisses me off

How was it at one point in your life that you rejected that half of you

But now, when we’re getting the most attention on the news

The 1/4th assholes are coming out and saying, “I’m scared for my community”

When this was a lifelong battle, us 100% assholes have been fighting our entire lives for

As a light-skinned Latina, I’m fully aware of my privilege

Not only in this country but in the world

But I’ve never used my culture to victimize myself

When my entire life I’ve struggled with the

“How do you not know who Limp Biscuit is”

“How have you never listened to classic rock?”

When I’ve never felt ashamed in those moments

Because I grew up listening to Mana, Juanes, RBD, and Juan Gabriel

And I’ve always been so proud of that

Bad Bunny once said

“Ahora todos quieren ser latinos, pero les falta sazón”

And I felt that

Ended up beautiful

It’s always hard to overcome those fears,

It feels like a brick wall blocking your view; I can’t see what’s next

Or like jumping into a pool you don’t know the depth or temperature of

I take two big deep breaths,

and go for it.

Today I’m facing the fear of the Master’s Program I was accepted into

What if it’s too hard?

What if I miss out on too many things?

What if it isn’t the right time?

I sat in silence and thought about everything I have overcome

Every brick wall I’ve climbed over

Every daunting pool I’ve jumped into

I did alone

And every time it felt like walking out of a marathon

Stopping after completing, trying to catch my breath

I moved out of my hometown

And to the closest geographical city

Not too far from home

But far enough to be independent

What once was a city full of vibrant lights and life

Is now a city that’s dull and fully explored

The friendships I’ve made

The experiences I’ve had

Feel complete

Is it time for a new city a new chapter?

Or is it time to settle down in a familiar place

That’s not too far from home

But far enough to build something of my own

I look back 11 years ago and see how far I’ve come

How much I’ve accomplished

But how much I have yet to do

An 18 year old with a dream of making her mark on this city

Of changing something

Being something other than a minimum wage employee

Now at 29

I’ve explored everything here

I’ve planted my roots

I’ve opened peoples minds

I did what I came here to accomplish

Now I sit and ponder at a park

In a city not to far from home

But far enough that I’ve built something of my own

Quiet and slow mornings like these are my favorite.

For context- my partner and I don’t live together. But on some weekends I stay at his place with my dog. He has done everything he can to make his place cozy for the both of us. (I sometimes feel my dog loves his place more than mine.)

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE my little girly apartment that has everything I need.

My pink water glasses

My butterfly mugs with cute tiny gold spoons with the sole purpose of making my morning coffee cute

My fluffy blankets and 10000 pillow

A giant piece of art with a naked woman on it

I have everything set to maximum coziness there.

a place so cozy and organized it’s very clear a man does not live there

I live right SMACK in the middle of a busy city where I have 500 neighbors and can hear the busy life of everyone around me. The natural alarm of someone honking at 5am so I’m never late to work.

As an extrovert who grew up in a small town, I also find so much peace being in the middle of it all. I’ll always have a neighbor or a friend around me to talk to.

But,

I love being cozy at his place, where I can drink his coffee, wear his sweaters, and play his video games.

But I mostly love how “manly/dude-ish” his place is.

No cute tiny spoons

Only 2 pillows on his bed

He lives on the outskirts of the city where it’s quiet and I can hear the birds chirp. At times it reminds me of home.

I feel like it’s a mini break from my busy world, a place where I can truly take a break without being reminded I have 10000 things to get done.

I always feel so blessed for mornings like these because it reminds me that right now, I have everything I’ve ever wanted.

Feels like no one else would ever understand

The vibrant colors I feel when excitement enters

The green mountains I’d climb

The waterfalls I’d hear

The sunsets my eyes set upon

and the smell of dewy grass in the morning.

The dark stormy clouds when fear and sadness arrive

Cracked, worn wooden floors

Moldy walls

The barron, colorless desert, when I exist in the state of nothingness

It feels like a fantasy world that all exists within one

To feel all of these things within the same week or sometimes even on the same day,

How can someone feel so much excitement, then it turn into sadness within the blink of an eye

Is this how everyone feels internally?

Different seasons, and colors for different emotions?

Some might say it’s dramatic,

I think it’s beautiful

To be excited and to feel as happy and calm as if I’m at the top of a mountain watching a waterfall

To be sad and feel how a worn wooden floor feels

I feel privileged to feel all these emotions in the way that I do

Everyone can be a nice person, but it takes a special soul to truly be kind.

Being nice is a surface-level attitude. Whereas being kind is a deeply rooted trait.

In today’s day and age, we find some nice people and very few kind people.

A nice person holds the door open, says good morning to everyone in the office, avoids conflict, and is focused on being liked.

A kind person is rooted in genuinely caring for others. They focus on doing what is best for someone, even if it’s difficult and uncomfortable.

I’d argue that a lot of people today say we shame kind people because, on a surface level, it looks like they’re abandoning their own needs to care for others.

In some situations, that is the case.

Kind people genuinely love the people around them and want to see others win.

Nice people only want to be liked.

Sometimes, being kind is a superhero in disguise.

Giving someone a genuine response so they can move forward and thrive can often look like a backhanded compliment.

Nice people tell people what they want to hear in the moment, but that response expires as soon as it is given.

Being a kind person takes a genuine soul.

Even the world’s worst leaders have the ability to be nice, but never kind.

It requires us to ditch decade old habits to move forward

To set boundaries we’ve feared to set

It’s uncomfortable as FUCK

And no one has ever warned us about this

The one thing that keeps me afloat is that I love myself more than these bad habits

This is the year I become the best version of myself

Physically, Mentally, Emotionally

The person who upgrades their life

Leveling up to the final boss (age 29)

Because turning 30 is around the corner and I don’t want to bring these bad habits into the new decade of my life

A nuanced endeavor

Nuanced because, as Selena’s Dad said

“Being Mexican American is hard, you aren’t Mexican enough for the Mexican’s and you aren’t American enough for the Americans, it’s exhausting!”

And god damn, he was right.

When I was 18, I moved to a city where gentrification pushed brown and black people to the outskirts of the city.

Being from a town like Albuquerque, New Mexico, this was a complete culture shock to me.

What do you mean there are no reservations in this state?

Aren’t the schools bilingual?

This city felt like a damn blizzard. I couldn’t find a single brown person to be friends with.

It wasn’t until college that I found ONE. A single friend who looked like me.

A light-skinned ass Latina. Who spoke Spanish, whose parents are also from the motherland, who understood the experience.

But of course, her major was in Nursing, and mine was in English. So when we got past the Gen Ed part of college, we went our separate ways.

Then, in the History Department, I made a friend who was obsessed with history, even more than I, and understood me more than I did myself.

I was immediately attached to her because I felt like the friends I made at school were great, but they always got the version of me who was performing.

Who acted white to make them feel understood,

And be the friend who “brings a unique perspective to the table.”

I always thought that quote was hysterical.

How the hell do I bring a unique experience to the table? I just agreed that the curtains are blue.

But instead, I’ve decided to be a place of rest

I want to be the one who holds onto the small details

The birthdays, the “just because” texts, the little surprises that say I see you.

It isn’t about waiting for the world to do the same for me.

Because if I wait for the world to do the same, I’d be waiting a lifetime.

Seeing a smile I helped create makes everything feel lighter.

I’ve realized that the best way I can love myself

Is by pouring that love into others

And into everyone I carry in my heart.

Being the person who cares is simply who I am, and that is enough for me.

But as of recently, I’ve been pushing my physical boundaries

Seeing where I could go

and how far I could get

It’s been the most freeing I’ve felt in a long time

Picking up the weight that I never thought I could lift

Doing the extra rep, thinking my body was done

Taking a step back and looking at this journey

I feel so grateful

That I can run that extra minute

That I can pick up the weight

The one thing I feel I have control of in this phase of my life that feels chaotic

We were always labeled as sweet and calm.

But then we got home and were the complete opposite. It was always weird to converse with people who were not friends or immediate family.

When we’d get introduced to new people, or go to parties with mami y papi, we would always sit quietly and just observe the adults.

As adults, after years of having to make friends on our own and become comfortable with who we are, it’s now easier to talk to people.

Even at 19, navigating a new city and trying to make friends, we ended up trying too hard only because we weren’t being ourselves.

Then at 22, we were constantly told we’re being “too much” and “too loud”.

At 25, we reverted to being soft spoken and too afraid of speaking out

Once we finally learned that no matter what we do, people are going to be unhappy.

It was time to embrace being goofy and loud and passionate about things.

If we constantly mold ourselves for others, we’ll never become our true selves.

If we make haters along the way, we are doing something right.

I love that we are sweet and calm, but are passionate about things.

We’re loud when we’re happy and care too much.

We cry at sad dog videos and rewatch shows 10000 times.

We love to read and write, and believe we would have thrived in the Romanticism era.

We laugh at silly little things

We love living alone, although at one point, that was one of our biggest fears.

We love arts and crafts, but leave projects unfinished.

We were never awkward; we were just with the wrong people.

We were never awkward; we just didn’t know who we were yet.

Every obstacle in your way now is preventing something unwanted and teaching you something.

I know everything is heavy, and you feel like a failure.

But I’m coming from a future where I’ve finally found peace with the things you’re struggling with.

The confidence will come

The independence will come

It surprises me how much I’ve changed since 2017.

I would have never thought of living alone

I never thought I’d actually apply for a master’s program, let alone finish my undergrad.

There is a world of pain waiting up ahead

There will be heartbreak

But there is so much more beauty in the outcome

We travel

We love

We laugh

Every obstacle was worth it.

The Labrynth which no mortal could solve,

Leaving the deadly minotaur at the end bored.

To sum up this story,

Ariadne gave Theseus a cheat sheet and a thread that told him where to go in the Labrynth, and the thread to help him find his way back once he defeated the Minotaur.

Anyway, I hope I can find Ariadne’s thread to get me through this writer’s block.