I am a Mexican-American woman. Flawed beyond belief. A dreamer. Someone with hopes that people are genuinely kind. I am not perfect nor do I claim to be. I am not superstitious yet I still make a wish at 11:11. Why? Because I am unique.
My dark under eyes show that I’m determined. I am mistaken for a confident woman. It’s actually quite confusing. Anxiety gets the best of me, my thoughts are on constant repeat. I have a dark past most people won’t see the light of. I carry a sense of guilt for which I do not know.
Contrary to what this may seem like, I’m a delight. I light up a room with my smile and charm. I am intelligent. I am supportive and genuinely happy for anyone I love. I am extraordinarily busy running after a toddler. He’s a beautiful spawn of our love. The love that is within me, the love that I express, is exuberant. It’s truly one of a kind. I marvel on the fact that I’m lucky, sometimes. I ponder on my existence and even more so on my future.
I’m truly an odd being.