An open letter to my hurt, from my love

Dear loved one,

Not everyone is for you, and you are not for everyone.
Not everyone will understand you.
People will judge you unfairly, just as you will probably judge others unfairly as well.

Be kind to yourself, anyway. Stick to your truth anyway. Love others anyway.

Everything that is going to happen, is going to happen anyway. You will survive it, as you have. Life goes on, as it does.

You will make mistakes, but you will also prevail. Do not focus on the losses, but on the improvements. Do not focus on the pain, but on how you’ve prevailed. Do not focus on suffering, when there is so much pleasure to be had.

Love those that love and accept you. Accept those that don’t. Everyone is simply showing you what you are and what you are not. Live your reality as best you see fit.

Trust yourself, because you are the only one that Knows. Accept your errors, you are doing the best you can.

Forgive others, they too are doing their best. What they don’t understand about you, they do not see within themselves. Love them through it.

Maybe from afar. Maybe very distantly. But love them, so that you may love that part within yourself as well.




Dating Gorgeous

Being beautiful was always important as I grew up. We can blame it on social, cultural, and religious construct but it was there, implanted in my head by the Patriarchy Capitalist reality I live(d) in. I was told that I was beautiful, taught to value it, to praise it, to build upon it my empire as woman. The more it became a responsibility the more I feared it while praising it. Envying natural beauty just as much as skilled make up.

I resented beauty. It felt like the rent I had to pay to be of minimum value. And it had an expiration date as society places even lesser value on old women.

I resented it and rebelled it. I cut my hair and resented being reminded that others were free to judge me out loud if they praised me or didn’t.  It was a social norm to prey on my insecurities.

Whenever I felt beautiful it scared me. I felt afraid to lose it, and guilty. But then I saw how incompletely I was seeing it.

I may have been truing to deny myself of my relationship with art, but it found me. It poured through my veins when I painted my woes in deep colors and forts emotions. It laid in front of me as someone confided their secrets, entrusted me with their vulnerabilities, it rested next to me on the beach glistening in the sun, it showed on my cheeks when someone kissed me and meant it, it showed off in October,  undeniably, again and again in the leaves of trees….there was no trying to define or reject wild beauty, it was there redefining itself. It was in me not because of my hair, or make-up, or clothes. It was in me because I embraced Beauty as an act of nature, outside of myself. I was a manifestation of life and thus beautiful. I am beautiful as you are beautiful. I am no more beautiful than you, nor any less, but I am beautiful.

I have explored how I define myself in romantic relationships and have explored my role in regards to beauty and attraction and attractiveness to my prospective partner. I have also explored what makes others attractive to me since beauty has become much more complex than just good facial structure and pretty eyes. It’s a personality trait and how we carry ourselves, but also how we value life and what we do with it. How much do we love others? How do we show it?

And maybe some charm and pretty eyes don’t hurt, sure.

I have felt my most gorgeous when I am living my best truth. When I feel my most free and confident.

I would want the same for others.

May everyone know their gorgeousness, and be their own unique brand of weird. May everyone date someone just as beautiful as they.

Europe Bound

Two years ago today (has it truly only been two?) I was waking up for the first time in France. I was in Paris, at the house of the first of the many new friends I would make during my three years of traveling through France and Europe.

Originally, it was supposed to be a 5-week backpacking trip. But by the third day I knew I was where I was meant to be. I had felt it in Guanajuato years before. I’ve always felt it right before a very intense adventure.

The three years culminated in falling in love at least a hundred times, a relationship and a half of stories of love, friends, tinder nightmares and beautiful accidents, friendships that lasted five minutes to what I think will be a lifetime, train rides, sunsets and sunrises, fogfy mornings-days-afternoons….all the dreams of accordeon music and violin in alleyways and metro rides…enough material to have years of amazing movies playing in my head made up entirely of souvenirs.

And I say goodbye to Europe through Barcelona, possibly the city that I’ve had the most passionate relationship with in my life in as far as cities go, has left me struck and marked.

However I return to France early tomorrow and then only stay there a few more days.

I will be going back to San Miguel de Allende, in México, the motherland in April.I am still processing what is going on in my life now. Everything is happening painfully slow and too fast always at the same time. But that decision is made.

There’s more to say…more to come. But today, for my three year anniversary of living in france I wanted to officially announce I’m moving back to Mexico. Then, we will see.

San Miguel….Let’s do this.