Journey to the Past

Welcome back readers! For this Sunday's post, I will go into a personal reflection, based on my experiences during this weekend. To introduce this very quickly, I was having a very hard week. I began studying again, preparing to be a Montessori teacher, and let's just say this week made me cry more than once. I've had anxiety attacks, existential crisis and many moments of self-doubt. To make it short, I was being kicked in the butt.  

Someday I'll sleep again. 

On Friday, I received a message from a family group chat I'm in, reminding everyone of the small get-together they would be having on Saturday. 

I was very hesitant to go, since I hadn't seen this part of my family around 12 or 13 years (give or take a few). But a part of me yearned for it. I can't explain it, but I felt a deep ache, a need to go. Blood calls for blood I guess. So, I got in my car and drove to their hometown, which is not as far from mine as I originally thought. I was so nervous; I couldn't stop shaking when I arrived and parked. I didn't know if they would recognize me, if they would accept me. After all, the last time I had being with them I was no older than 11. But then I saw them... and every bad feeling and doubt went away. 

I've always related to Anastasia. 
Now more than ever. 

Going a little backwards, I used to stay with them for several days when I was a kid. They would come to my hometown and take me with them for weekends or a whole week. Those were the happiest days of my childhood. Every moment with them felt like an adventure. I was lighter than air, the sun shone brighter, the laughs were louder, and life was sweeter. I remember wishing those days would never end. I was away from school and my bullies, which was perfect. Plus, all of them were always so kind and caring. I've never found such kindness, love and passion for life anywhere else.  

Don't get me wrong, I loved my family back at home too, especially and mostly my mother. But I was never close with this side of my family. There were too many secrets, coldness, pain and resentment. Everyone was very indifferent, and never close. My mom was my safe place, in many ways; she was an exception to all that coldness. Nevertheless, you can see there was a strong contrast between the two sides of my family. Probably you can understand why I cherished those days I was away so much.

It was a time of innocence. Pure and simple innocence. As long as I was in my uncle's arms, and I heard my aunt laugh, and I spent time with my cousins, I was safe. Nothing and no one could bother me. There were no problems, there was only peace. It was home. 

Then, well... life happened, I guess. Responsibilities took over. We couldn't see each other so frequently anymore. I grew up like all children do. Life got harder, and we drifted apart. Even though we loved each other, we lost that connection for some years. As I grew up, I naturally lost that innocence. I matured, got my heart broken a couple of times, graduated from high school and then college, becoming a teacher; like they say in "Grey's Anatomy", life is a carousel and you can't stop it. 

Now, going back to present day, I met with most of them again. I can say without a doubt that I haven't felt this happy in years. Seeing them together again, laughing, dancing, joking, it was as if I was 10 years old all over again. For those moments I didn't care about the damn virus. I needed those hugs like lungs need air. The first one I saw was my uncle, to whom I am closer than with most relatives. Let me tell you: that hug and that kiss from him made me feel like something on the inside was fixing, something I never realized was broken. After greeting him I saw my aunt, who is the one of the funniest and most lovable people I've ever met. I greeted and hugged my cousins- kind, sweet and fun as ever. In summary, I was home again. 

There were no responsibilities, no pain, no fear, no cares. I lived in the present, without worrying for tomorrow. My heart was bursting out of my chest. I couldn't stop talking to them, hugging them; I needed them so much, I just never realized how so. We talked about our heartbreaks, our jobs, current events, other relatives, and I had an amazing conversation with one of my cousins about books! It was magic; every single second was pure magic. 

How can I describe what it really felt like? How can I explain how my heart felt just by watching them smile? How do I begin to describe how safe I felt in their arms? I felt so... ALIVE, as I haven't felt in years. Needless to say, when the time came for me to go back to my house, it was hard to say the least. As if I was being ripped from them again; I couldn't stop crying the way back home. It was such a bittersweet feeling, ripping me from the inside out. But I know this isn't the end. 

Since now I have my car, I can visit them more often. We're already planning more days to see each other; for that I am eternally grateful and happy. I won't let so much time pass again without seeing them. When my summer classes finish, I sure as hell will go visit again. I hope for a future with them as bright as our past. 

To summarize, I realized some very beautiful things; maybe deep down I knew them, but I needed to hear and experience them. I am more loved than I imagined, I am not alone, and no wound is so deep than it can't be healed with time and support. I also realized how much I missed and loved them, how much I longed for those days; as some people say, you never really know a moment's value until that moment becomes a memory. I just wish my grandfather was still with us so I could see him again as well. 

If one of them ever reads this, remember that I love you, even if I don't always say it. 

With hopes I see you guys again soon, 

Ema.  

PS. Happy father's day! Especially to my uncle, and my stepfather too- that man is really amazing and wonderful. 

Reflection

In these days, with so many things occurring at the same time, I decided I need to take a break. I needed to breathe, try to relax and reconnect with myself. This post will be about a personal reflection I had, one that shook me to the core. 

A couple of weeks ago, I was talking with this friend of mine on the phone. We were discussing some personal subjects, and then he asked me, "Who are you?". I found myself unable to answer him, because I didn't know the answer.

Who are you? 

All my life, I've had a struggle with my identity. I was forced since I was a little boy to go to church and believe in something I could not. I was molded into this perfect little boy with perfect grades and perfect manners. I had my insecurities thrown on my face by my so-called family, until I didn't know what was real about me and what wasn't. I discovered my sexuality in a hostile and homophobic environment, one that made me feel guilty and dirty for the way I was born. It was sickening. I wasn't that perfect boy, I've never been him. But then again, if I wasn't what they created, what was left of me? 

Discovering who I am has been a long and painful process. It has taken a toll on me because some people have tried to destroy the person I was blooming into. I believe the hardest experience I went through in this path of self-discovery, was when I met the one who has plagued my dreams and turned them into nightmares. I was in an abusive relationship for a couple of months; they felt like years. I will not go into detail about what happened, since it's too personal. But I can say that he took pieces of me, little by little, until there was barely some of me left. He destroyed the self-esteem I had, which had taken years to develop and strengthen. I can still feel what he did to me; every bruise, every word full of hate. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I couldn't recognize the person I was seeing. I was an empty shell of the boy I used to be. 

After this experience, I really didn't know what was inside of me. I was empty of emotion, of longing, of passion. My essence laid scattered on the floor in a million pieces of glass. I tried to connect those pieces, but I only hurt myself more. So, life went on with me just going along with the ride, not paying attention to life itself. I was breathing, but I was dead. 

Going through this process, my family moved out and I started to live by myself. Loneliness, silence, wrath and resentment took a hold of me. All the responsibility fell on my shoulders, all of a sudden. It was emotionally crushing, to the point when just living was the most painful sensation of all. My family barely talked to me; I was feeling ignored and rejected. My world was crumbling into pieces. It felt as I were at the edge of a cliff  about to fall, and screaming for help to all the people around me, but no one listened. I was breathing, but I was dead. 

I dedicated myself to my job only. I didn't have any time for anyone, least of all myself. I was focused mostly on surviving day after day. It was a living nightmare; I lost touch with reality, and I lost my essence even more. But my students helped me through this process; they are truly wonderful kids. If one of them ever read this, please know that I love you so much. 

Slowly, very slowly, in this process of surviving I realized I wasn't living. Not really. I was there, but my soul was absent. This lead to take a hard decision, but one that saved my life: either continue on this path, or start healing. I took the second option- for my students, for my friends, but mostly for me. I reconnected with my essence through  books, which reminded me to be brave and have hope against all obstacles. I started this blog thanks to one of my best friends/sister who has believed in me more than I have believed in myself at times. I learned to forgive little by little all the things that had happened. But most of all, I learned to forgive myself for all the times I let people hurt me in the past. I was breathing, and finally waking up. 

I will live again.

Going back to the initial question of who I am, I remember reading a book during these days called "Reflection" by Elizabeth Lim. This book is part of the Disney Twisted Tales, and it tells the story of Fa Mulan and how she went to the Underworld to retrieve the soul of Captain Li Shang. 

Beautiful, amazing book. 

In this journey, she had to face many dangers, but the biggest of them all was herself. She had to face who she was and come to terms with her true self. Reading about Mulan and her journey of self-discovery made me realize some things about myself. I was one step closer to finding out who I am. I was breathing, and coming back to life. 

Mulan often found herself divided between two girls: the one her parents raised her to be, a perfect bride and lady; or the soldier she had become. But in the end, she discovered she was neither. She was a combination of both. She was a lady who embraced her femininity, and a strong warrior capable of conquering any battle. Mulan taught me that my essence is not what people see in me or what they want me to be. My essence is the one I choose, the one I must embrace, the one I must be thankful for. I am one step closer to seeing who I am. 

Credits to the artist. 

Practicing being thankful every day, I have become closer to myself. I still don't know 100% who I am. But I am on the right path of meeting myself, and becoming Ema- the one I choose to be. But here are some things I can already determine: 

1- I am not what happened to me. I am what I choose to become. 

2- I am light. I am one with the universe. 

3- I must forgive myself for the things I still hold myself guilty for. 

4- I find myself in the silence, in books and in literary friends. 

5- My path is not determined; I create it. 

6- I take risks and I embrace them. 

7- I have a tattoo of the Mockingjay to remind me to have hope. 

8- I painted my hair blue. I look in the mirror and I see myself truer to my essence.  

9- I am a good teacher, even if some days I don't feel as such. 

10- I am breathing, and I am more alive than ever. 

11- I am more loved than I realize. 

12- I am enough. 

13- I am gay, an atheist, a feminist, and a free thinker. 

14- I am mine before I'm anyone else's. 

Today I love myself a little bit more, even if it's hard. It still hurts to breathe, but now I can manage the pain and look past it. I am thankful for what I have and for what I don't. I forgive myself slowly, and others too. I embrace my body and all its perfect imperfections. I celebrate my decisions over my body. My pieces are still scattered, but I'm learning to reconnect them again. 

I found god in myself. 
And I loved her FIERCELY! 

PS. I'm planning on painting my hair every summer or so. Probably I'll do it pink next time. See you next Sunday!