Pretty

We sit looking so pretty

In our dresses, skirts and heels

Forgotten is the start

Forgotten is the battle

Waking up, hair in your face and eyes are puffy

Every day the same thing

Every night the same thing

Jump in the shower

Wash your face from the oils of the night cream we have slept in

Wash your hair, or not, it depends if we believe one is better than the other

Shave your legs and your pits; stand in there ready to go back to bed

Getting out one leg at a time, oh if only I was taller, oh if only I was shorter

Here and there the battle of every day and every night

What to wear, what to wear?

For I am too fat, oh too skinny, maybe apple shape, pear shape, mango shape, celery

The cellulite, the frizzy hair, hair so straight, oh the wrinkles

We put on our garments, now the shoes, yes, those freaking shoes

To blow dry or not, that is the question

To curl or flatiron, to burn it or simply just leave it

Then the oils, creams, de-puffers, bb cream and concealer

Yikes, a zit and the wrinkles, plus the spots

Now the powder, bronzer, shadow and mascara

Using tools that clamp our lashes because they make us happy

Some perfume here we go

Nine pm and we are exhausted

To peel and peel all the layers

Oh the process, oh the work

 The torture and the pain

They do say “beauty is pain”, they never said how much pain

If only the people we impress would pay us for our work

 We would be rich; we would not be hungry and angry

We would not have to do all this, we would love ourselves

We would not paint ourselves, we would not have blisters

We would not pay the expense

We would be proud; we would be natural and fresh

Just like a tree we would show our scars, wrinkles and wisdom with our age

We would be bare

Then our roots they would grow and our product would be simple and mature

No worries, no care and only time we would dissipate

From the earth we grow and to the earth we end

Instead we smile and reset

We sit there oh so pretty 

STARVING

STARVING

 

Always starving

Starving for food

Starving to be skinny, starving to fit in

Always starving

Starving for acceptance, starving for a like

Always starving

Starving for some love

Starving for a look, starving for a compliment

Always starving

Starving to be cool

Starving for the truth, starving for a crew

Always starving

Starving, starving, starving

Never satisfied, always getting mad

Always a disaster

Always hungry

STOP

Always starving.

Inconceivable Mistake.

I used to think that love would come to you full of passion and madness, oh the madness. I imagined myself full of anger yet full of love; the kind of love that you read about in novels or poems. I have had that kind of love. That love I had was madness but yet it hurt. I have also have had the other kind of love, the love you stay in because you love the person so much it hurts you to know they are not who you want to spend the rest of your life with.

After a long, crazy, up and down relationship with someone whom I really believed was my true love I learned that I only had ideas of what love was really about.

Don’t get me wrong, I still believe that love is a powerful feeling, unspeakable and therefore making you do things you could never have imagined doing. I have played every role in the book, “the damsel in distress”, “dominator”, “the let me change my life for you”, but after all that I realized one thing. When you are looking for love you cannot allow yourself to be anyone but yourself. The second thing I learned was that you have to love yourself before you can love. Last I learned that love comes in different shapes and colors.

After my last relationship I went on many dates, dates that were boring, crazy fun and others merely crazy.

I was drowning in alcohol and making every bad decision I could have possibly made. I mean, I was single, hurt and ready for fun.  That soon got old, what seemed fun became just an excuse for me to try and forget. The more I tried, the more I failed, embarrassed myself and continued to be lonely.

Right before Christmas there was a company holiday party and my co-worker was going to go with me. Not sure why but I did not want to show up alone since everything else in my life seemed lonely. Last minute he said he could not go, so I texted any boy in my phone to see if they were free. I had no luck so, I contemplated not going. That same week I had been texting back and forth with a boy who could have become M#3 (Mike).  We had met online and he seemed nice, funny and was handsome. I did what most people would have never done, I asked him to go with me. He agreed.

I got ready that day and drove over to his house not knowing what to expect or what would happen. Most normal logical people would have never done what I did. Off we went to the party. After that we talked for a few weeks and then came a text (he could have called, but men don’t do that nowadays).  He said to me “I have to let you know that I’m not looking for a relationship, if you want to keep hanging out, we can” in other words he wanted a friend with benefits. At that moment I was not mad or sad but I wish I was on a dating game show and I could have used a big red X to X him out.  SO, I said we could only be friends and nothing else, if I wanted to have meaningless sex I could find anyone else.

After that I received text messages from him to go to the movies or out for drinks but it would never happen.  One night he text me while I was at a bar with my girlfriend. He asked for us to go over to his brother’s house for drinks.  At the time my girlfriend was single and I remember thinking his brother was handsome, so off we went.

We spent the night having beers and joking, all five of us. The entire time I had no chemistry with him but his brother and I seemed to just be seamless, As if the stars had been aligned. At the time I did not take notice because I had declared I was out of the dating club at least for a while, plus I was still a bit hung up on my ex who would show up once in a while.  This guy asked entirely wrong questions, including political opinions, religion and sex but somehow I was not mad.  At the end of the night my girlfriend swore he and I had hit it off. I was in denial.  How was that possible?

When I got home he had Facebooked me, yes the old FB. He asked about his brother and I and I explained to him the sequence of events. After talking he asked me out. I naturally said NO. I had never been in that position before. Most of my friends know that I have been in many random situations and that normally I like the idea of dating but never move forward. Some know that I have not showed up for dates or have canceled last minute. Sure, most guys never got even a chance and maybe they could have been great but I love romance when it comes to everyone else.

Maybe I love the flirting and the first date but after that I would get un-charmed. Initially I said no but this guy just showed interest, the kind that well, it’s hard to find.  I could not get past the idea of his brother, but he made it clear that he had asked him if it was ok.  I also, asked M#3 if it was ok. Even after that, I had to consult with the only person I thought knew me best, my ex-boyfriend.  He said “Karla you do this all the time, if you think he is interesting go”. Finally, I gave in.

He showed up and I asked him wait outside.

We went on that date and it was as if we both needed a pause button. Neither of us could seem to stop talking. We talked and talked. He spent the night but we just hugged. That weekend he and I went on a hike. When we got to the bottom he looked at me and said “look at you full of snow everywhere” and he kneeled down to wipe my feet. To anyone this would not mean much but to me it meant the world. It was so simple, here was a guy that already was selfless and made me feel something I could not describe.

As time went by we did not want to become official, maybe it was his lack of experience and my weird me thinking good things don’t come to me. For the first 3 months I was in denial and for the next 3 I was afraid. I was afraid that what I once had felt for someone should always feel that way. My struggle continued but soon after it all made sense. I did not want to date my ex again, I just wanted his approval, and I guess I always did. I wanted him to see me for who I was and maybe he did but neglected to love me. Here I was with someone who clearly would remind me that no matter how big of a mess I am he would still clean my shoes.

After a long text and email to my ex about how I really truly felt and how he treated me I received from him what I expected all the time, “nothing”, he did not even respond. Then one morning I woke up next to my love and it was something about the way he looked at me that I soon felt peace.

Our love evolved from the strangest situation and it continues to grow, not one day is the same. He sees me for who I am and I love everything about him. Sure we fight and laugh and what not.

Sometimes you can walk into a restaurant to go on a blind date and you know you love someone and then there are times you fall in love by mistake. An, inconceivable mistake.

Killing Myself

There are many things that can change your life. There was a man I loved. He was what I thought to be unique and he is. He was the first to give me my first heartache. For over two years I kept trying to believe that somehow things would eventually get back to normal. I tried to be his friend but it was not enough. He didn't treat me like a friend and I could not get passed how I felt.

One summer night I was out with friends and had a few drinks. In a bathroom stall I quickly turned into the crazy ex-girlfriend. Yes, this girl, the girl that said she would never fall into that category. I ate every thought or opinions that I had on women that choose to act the part. Where the idea came I'm not certain, maybe it was my exhausted brain constantly wondering why he treated me the way he did.

When I would try and be his friend he would throw crumbs at me like I was a lost baby chick. I would eat them all up thinking something would change. Then I would feel sick and used. After that pattern continued for a while that night I had had enough. I stood there looking at his FB wondering why he was so normal with everyone but me.

I guessed at that moment that maybe he just wanted me in his shadow. So I looked at his friends on FB and saw a name that I had seen two weeks after we broke up and sure enough I googled it. In my searches I found her Instagram and a picture of them that day. My first question was he said they’re just friends; why would a friend drive six hours to see her but not 45 min for me. Sure, I was selfish in that moment and I snapped. I sent him a very nasty text telling him how hurt and betrayed I felt.

I'm not proud of that moment. It was nearly "stalkish" and very unbecoming. I didn't cry. It was as if the blind I could see for the first time that I would always be, his secret friend. Just like the day he lied to his ex-Cecile and said we had just happened to hook up when in reality we were dating. Yes, he broke my heart twice. The first time he called me and asked to meet up and talk, in turn into getting back together.

After remembering that moment that he had lied to her I preceded to google her. When I found her, I found a different part of me. Coming across her twitter profile I saw her “100 days of happiness”. It was then when I realized that someone that had been impacted by him, as well as her impacting him was happy.

She was successful, happy and had moved on. Boom! Like a bucket of cold water it hit me. I could also be happy but I had to love me and make me happy.

As far as the stalking moment I had that night I think at times "you’re crazy" can make a positive impact on you. I'm not proud of that moment but I'm certain that I can breath and I can love and I can let others love me. I know in his mind I will always be that poor soul, that crazy ex-girlfriend and the girl who cried a million tears for him. I became Juliet but instead of killing myself for love I moved on.

Me

Growing up

Growing up Mexican
You always have Valentina
Growing up Mexican
Music is in your blood
Growing up Mexican
Watching telenovelas is a must
Growing up Mexican
You hardly ever wear black
Growing up Mexican
Your mom braids your hair with bolitas
Growing up Mexican
You eat jalapeños since the day you can eat real food
Growing up Mexican
Pickled Patas de puerco are delish
Growing up Mexican
There is no waiting for later, you do it today
Growing up Mexican
Chile with mangos in the summer are a treat
Growing up Mexican
You hide under the bed to eat blocks of Abuelitas chocolate
Growing up Mexican
You enjoy others treasures at the flea market
Growing up Mexican
Your best friends name is llennifer but really it's Jennifer
Growing up Mexican
Fútbol is the only sport that exists
Growing up Mexican
On the other side of the border is strange.
Growing up Mexican
you get over it because you know the US has more opportunities
Growing up Mexican
Then one day you grow up and the whole time it was you

Growing up.

 

by Karla

We Hold On

We hold on

We hold on to things all the time. Some of the things we hold on to are objects, some are feelings, memories, but they all have touched our lives in different ways. There is always a reason we hold on, I’d say it’s mostly the feeling you felt in that exact moment. If I ever eat something way to spicy I think of my mother and the fact that when she was upset it would translate in her food. Her salsa was always extra spicy when she was upset but we only had one choice we would eat or not.

I’m 28 years old and I have held on to many feelings, smells, memories and even clothes and it wasn’t until I met a boy who always asked me “why”. He had the answer, but he forced me to think more about. See, I keep every piece of clothing in my closet for years hoping that I won’t lose that feeling. I have a pair of sweat pants my mother had given me and I could not get rid of because I could feel her hugs in them. When I moved from California to Connecticut I found myself bringing all kinds of things that I had accumulated over the years that reminded me of all the pains I have been through.

When I got married at 21 years old I wanted to start over but it was something I could not do, at least not then. For four years I battled letting go of my life, and my past. Instead of facing it I kept it in, unable to share with the person that I shared my life with or with anyone for that matter. I dissolved the marriage. I spent 3 months contemplating on feelings that I had never had before.  I began therapy and emotions began to drown me.

During the same period the boy continued to challenge me along with changing me and at some point hurting me. At times, I can feel that pain but mostly I try to let go. During two and a half years of learning I came out with one thing - I could sit here wanting, not allowing and letting myself drown or I could move forward. There was a point where he had made me feel like no one could ever hurt me again, but that is not the case because he did. In order to grow you have to feel, you have to let go and only keep what really matters.

After my divorce, I ended up with an old window that was going to the garbage from his grandmother’s house and that was pretty much it. It was that same window that allowed me to let go. I was moving again and yes, I took the old beat up window with me. It’s a reminder that I sometimes have to allow myself to be transparent and that at times you have throw out old things and let the new come in.  In my move I gave lots away. I got rid of my prom dresses, wedding dress, and that boy’s T-shirts that kept me hung up on him. When I think of that pink prom dress I think my first love. When I think of the wedding dress I think of growing up. When I think of all those T-shirts I think of how he made me feel. Now they are memories which I will keep but I no longer have to carry on my shoulders. I’m no longer defined by those things.  I use to think I was unique but I was like everyone else. I may not be as different now but I know I can let go.

New memories await new stories, laughs, smiles, cries, love, new shirts, dresses and entries to new windows.  To that boy, I kept everything because they use to make me but not anymore “I make myself”.

Sickened

Sickened by your gaze, I fall

Touched by your kiss, I respire

Like the wind blowing it disappears

So soft and reckless

It all turns black

Dark like the street with no lights

Like a blind person waiting to see

The vision dissipates  

Leaving me crumbs, just enough to come back

Then you shout and scream without a word, go away!

Knowing it’s bad, like a kid hypnotized by a toy  

Except, I don’t cry, no I don’t, not anymore

It just aches likes the piano, every key

Sinking like a battleship, I drown

You, nowhere to be found

Gasping for your hand you turn your back

You’ve moved on, or have you?

Why?

Like a fool at a magic show, waiting for the secret

It’s in front of me but I refuse to believe

That you are a liar, a deceiving magician

Your audience observing, waiting, astonished, yet all in the same sad predicament

All sickened by your gaze

  

 

Newspaper Wings

I wanted to save the world,

I did, really

I would walk down the streets on my way to school and pick up trash; I would talk to the trees

I would help anyone with anything

In fourth grade, wait or maybe fifth grade, no; no it was fourth grade when I was an earth angel

Newspaper wings, it was noble, it really was, the notion of saving everyone

I could fly!

I wanted to save the world, earth, my mother and brothers

I would stay up late and cry at “The Save a Child for a dollar a month” ads or when I would watch the news

Five in the morning watching Univison all the disasters, pain and suffering  

I could feel the hurt, oh my brain, it hurt deep in my heart

I was lucky living in a closet, I was thankful leaving in a car or at the park, or in a shelter, a rest stop, it did not matter lived in America the land of prosperity

Even thought, I found out one day, that day, that I could only save me and take care me too make the world a better place. The harsh truth that there was very little I could do, I did not cry.

I could never forget….

I made this world a better place.

With a smile, a hug and or energy

Being friendly and being there for anyone that needs me, and volunteering and speaking

I may not ever be Mother Teresa or Gandhi, and or even Jesus  

I make a difference

I wanted to save the world, I did, I did!

I wanted to carry them

They carried me, they saved me, and they made me

I saved the world!

Love Translation and Old

It had been three days since she had left

It took three to realize she was gone

It was normal for her to be gone

On the fourth day the landlord came knocking on our door

You have 30 days to leave..What?

Your mother never paid the rent

I was used to her not being there for my awards, for my soccer games, holidays, or anything important

I was not surprised

She had left me alone many times

She had left me with my aunt for a year

She had left me with my grandmother for three years

I gathered my stuff and moved in with my other family

I worked every day and tried going to school.

Walking and taking the bus

I would sleep at rest stops if it got too late because I was too embarrassed to go to what was my home at the time

Other times my boyfriend and I would sleep in the car outside a Home Depot.

Every day without fail my grandmother would call

She would call because yes, she had left my brothers with her

Every day, every day, every day, something was wrong

They did not do their homework

They did not clean their room

They did not, not, not, not, not!!!

I could only take so many nots! I wanted to choke myself or run away.

Instead I got an apartment-- moved in with my boyfriend and took them with me.

How would I manage? What if they are bad? What if you make a mistake? What if? I asked

Everyone was waiting for me to fall, to fail, to cry

9 years later I would

All the feelings I never felt came out the day I met him

I gave him all --he took it all

It was my choice

I felt what love was, I let the wall down

Then one day during my therapy session after he had shattered my heart she asked, how did you feel when she left?

For the first time ever I could feel what I never felt then

Someone had left me and I finally knew what it really felt like

Did I not love her? Or was I just numb from all her shit?

I wanted to be protected; I did not want him to leave

I had allowed him to see, see me for who I was

He was the first person to care that I had been raped

He was the first person to tell me no one would ever hurt me again

He was the first one to peel the paint away

He was the first to tell me I was beautiful

The first to make me feel great about sleeping naked

The first to say he was proud

The first to not judge me

He was the first to really fight against my stubbornness

He would not take no for an answer, he would not ask… he would just help

He was the first orgasm and the first to say good-bye

The first to say he would always be around

The first to not put up with my shit

One day he left and I wanted to die

I cried and wanted fly; I wanted to burst into air

The pain came, I could not breathe and I could not speak

Only to realize that I could feel

I was alive and it made me afraid

I was not dead

It’s not that I did not love her

I just did not know how to feel

My instinct was to protect

My feeling was to love them

To help them, not show emotion because to them I was the strong one

I was the smart one; I was the one to keep it together

I no longer had them to protect

No more being strong

No one to take care of

Alone with my thoughts

Alone with my fear

It was me, myself and I

What I should have felt I had neglected

I had suppressed

I had been too fuckin’ angry to care

Not anymore!

Now I was too fuckin’ scared and all I could do is cry and be sad

Then again the sadness turned into anger and the anger turned into madness and when I was done crying it turned into strength

The strength turned into loving me

And then turned into being a bit selfish, learning what I want, accepting who I am,

Making choices for me not for them

I broke the chain, no longer captive

It turned into freedom

Free at last he said free

Happy V-Day!!!

 

When I was in 4th grade I knew, I really knew I would marry Francisco, except it did not happen.

 The school I was at had a program that had third and fourth graders together. In my class was a third grader named Miguel and soon I would find out that his brother was Francisco. Francisco was in 5^th grade but on the second day of school in the hallway I noticed him. He was so handsome with his light brown hair combed to the side and his green eyes. He walked past me and it was then I knew he was the one. I was smitten by Francisco. Every day I would watch him play soccer and everyday Miguel would serenade me in class. He would sing songs by Enrique Iglesias. He would sing so much the teacher would have to tell him to stop. I guess to Miguel I was the one. On Valentine’s Day that year the unexpected happened. The 5^th grade kids walked into every class and gave us candy and who would give me a lollypop but the one and only Francisco.

As I received the lollypop I turned so red I could have passed out he had taken my breath.  Janet was one of my friends in elementary school that could not keep her mouth shut. She shouted from across the room “Karla loves Francisco”!! I wanted to run. In that moment Miguel looked at me like I had done something to him, more like I had ripped his heart out and put in a blender and had it for breakfast. Oh, the terror. I could not say a word, yes I was speechless.

My secret had been revealed and I had destroyed Miguel’s heart all because someone had to say something. From that day on Miguel would only sing songs of broken hearts and I could no longer sit and watch Francisco play soccer but I was the happiest girl on earth. Yes, I was the happiest because if I had held that secret forever I would have exploded and what happened next would not have happened.

The last day of school I began my journey to the back exit of the school and when I got to the end, there he was, Francisco. He said hello and walked me home. It was the sweetest walk of my fourth grade history or my elementary life. He was not the one but I could never forget that walk home.

The next year I saw Miguel but he was no longer in love with me.

Some endings don’t have to be fairytale endings just sweet.

NYC

Living in Connecticut you realize you have opportunities that you only imagined as a child. It's not like Connecticut has zero to offer but let's face it, it sucks. The great thing is job opportunity and you can take a short drive or train ride to NYC or Boston two cities people will never get to see or only dream of seeing. 

Sitting on the train on my way to NYC makes me feel like I'm in a movie. My parents and siblings may never get to do this. Sitting here reminds me how fortunate I am. I have a connection to NYC that is like having a secret crush. 

I was in 7th grade when I decided that someday I would escape from my crazy ice in California. I was in a class for children who did well in school called AVID. This programmed opened the eyes of children whom families have never been to college, traveled or we're migrants. They would teach us things out parents did not know like write a check or a letter. In addition, the class showed us that there was another world. 

We had an assignment to pick three colleges we wanted to go to. Colleges?! Wow! 

I had no idea where to begin no one in my family had ever done that. My plan was to find 3 places that my mother could not find me at. Berkeley was my first choice but it was not far enough. Second choice was a college that would help me go abroad I choose San Jose state. Last I came across New York City there were some many schools. I decided to Google the city itself. It was beautiful. So many lights, buildings and thousands of people no one would ever be able to find me. I would start over. Like an ant in A Bugs World, I would be just another person in search of an adventure. I had been enchanted. 

Senor year in high school when it was time to apply my mind had changed. With the way things were at home I had to apply somewhere near home in case things got worse, you know. I applied and when I told my mother she said “you can't leave me" "you have to stay forever." 

In my mind I said "hell no."  She did it she left one day leaving me with her responsibility. 

Years later I moved to CT, never thinking I would be close to NYC. I don't know if I'll ever move there. I don't know the future. I do know that whenever I get on the train to visit NYC it's like a movie. It's like a fairytale. Like sitting in a room and watching a projector. All the images, all the buildings I get lost.