I belong to you.

To be specific:


My head belongs to your chest

and my arms around your back.


My mouth belongs to your ear

where it whispers my love for you.


My hands belong to your temples

which I love so much for some strange reason.


My eyes belong to your loving words

and your warm embrace.


I belong to you…

all my heart,

all my mind.

I belong to you because you make me happy.

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Even when I’m sad;

even when I feel hopeless,

or perhaps because of all of these feelings…

there’s nothing like music,

nothing is as uplifting as music.

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It Hurts…

It physically hurts,

right now I can feel the pain.

But emotionally, the pain is destroying me.


You’ll see me smiling,

saying hello,

being nice and friendly.

And I mean it!

I mean those smiles towards those who love me.

I like smiling at strangers. I really do.


But I still feel the pain.

And I’m slowly vanishing.


I know people around me don’t understand the physical pain,

and I know they have no idea of the emotional toll that a brief glance to the mirror has in my life.


But that’s OK.

I’m familiar with the pain;

I know what to do with the suffering.


Realistically, I know that things will probably get better.

So today, I lie to myself and pretend that everything will be OK.



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Calavera 2017…She’s in The Drive!

La Muerte just arrived

to beautiful Vancity;

she’s ready to revive

all the boredom of the city.


Walking around The Drive, she noticed something strange:

a group of blond girls

wearing crown flowers on their heads.


She took a closer look,

and became very upset

to see cultural appropriation

every step of the way.


La Muerte wasn’t mad

about the flowers or skulls;

because she recognizes beauty

all around the world!


La Muerte was angry

because nobody knew who she was!

How can these people dare?

At copying me, without any concern?


La Muerte asked the gringas about Posada,

and La Catrina.

But the gringas at the coffee shop

were talking about gluten and semolina.


How disappointing

To see everywhere

People using my culture

La Muerte thought to herself.


Read about history

there’s so much to learn

said the beautiful lady

as she drifted away.




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My Mornigs at the Bus Stop This Fall

I wake up in the darkness, and I feel like I’m dying. I just want to die, go back to bed and never wake up. I wish I could take my Munequito with me and go as far away as possible; I wish I could never see people again. I don’t want to talk to people ever again.

I know the sun is not coming out…it will be darkness, a grey smudge that blurs the lines between sky, sea and mountains.

But when I arrive at the bus stop in the middle of the darkness, when I arrive already exhausted about the day that only begins, I’m greeted with a smile and a good morning. And after a few minutes, my other friend arrives with another smile that compliments my coat and tells me happy stories about his weekend.

I know that God knows how difficult these mornings are for me. He knows and cares about me; six months ago He sent me this wonderful bus driver who made me feel loved when I just wanted to die. Now, He has sent me two caring Rumanians who care and love the same way that I do.

I know Jesus sends me these two people every morning because if they were not there, I would probably sit down at the bus stop and cry. But instead, we smile and talk at each other, and I manage to carry on with the day. And I praise God for that.

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I don’t apologize anymore for who I am. I don’t apologize anymore for what I think.

Back in Mexico I used to apologize with my mum for things that 1) were not my fault 2) I wasn’t sorry about.

I don’t do it anymore. I feel very strong about it. It hasn’t been easy at all. It took years of counselling, and to be honest, suffering too.

My lack of apologizing for things that I’m not sorry about hasn’t had the best of consequences for me. People are mad at me, disappointed, angry, upset, and hurt too.

The last time I didn’t apologize was a few months ago. I was supposed to apologize for the person that I’ve become; for being 32 and not 22 anymore. But I didn’t; I wasn’t sorry that I’ve changed. I am sorry my change has disappointed people, but I’m not sorry about the change itself.

Oh! But I wasn’t ready for the huge consequence that this would bring to my life. It’s really been a life-changing consequence. My relationship with this person will never be the same.

It has taken me years to stop apologizing for things which I don’t think I should apologize for.

This change is not about pride, or not recognizing my mistakes. It is about honesty and truth, of what I feel is the truth.

I’m proud of this change, even when it hurts a lot.


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What Am I Tired Of?

Quite often I say that I’m tired. I know what I mean, and I think my husband sort of understands it as well. But the other day, when I said I was tired during confession, Father asked me: What are you tired of? It took me a few seconds to start articulating my thoughts.

Overall I have this sense of exhaustion with life: of trying and getting nowhere.

Do I really go nowhere? Of course not! I know I’ve accomplishments to celebrate. But some of these successes have taken me years to achieve: years of struggle, disappointment and suffering. Yes, I know I’ve accomplished things, but I feel like the price has been very high. I have no energy left to keep on trying. Often, that’s how I feel.

I’m tired of people.

Do I dislike everybody? No! I love so many people; I’d give my life for some of them. I finally have wonderful friends in this country. I know lots of people who care about me, who worry about me. But I’m tired of fake people who pretend to care about me and only care about themselves and their needs. What actually angers me is their fake love and concern, their, of course, I love you, but I’ll spread rumours behind you; their how are you doing?, but I couldn’t care less and I’ll get my way even if it means stepping on you. I constantly try to focus on the good characteristics these people have; I pray for them, I do it regularly. But again, I’m tired of all these.

I’m tired of disappointing people.

Am I really such a disappointment? No! I know that’s not true. But I also know that some of my actions, ideas and thoughts disappoint people quite often. And because I’m no longer willing to give up on who I am and what I stand for, people make a big deal into how I’m such a disappointment.

I’ve made zero improvements in my health

I’ve been trying to fix my hormones for 17 years and I’m not even close to being done. I have anxiety and depression.  I feel like for every good weekend I have, the next 2 I’ll feel awful.

On bad days, all these thoughts combined make me tired, tired with capital letters. Although  I know that this pattern of thoughts belongs to depression, sometimes  I don’t think I can go on any longer. But I know I’m not alone, and that tomorrow can be better!


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