The 'Shoulds' of Life

#52Essays2017
Week 8

When a couple dates for longer than a few years, they're asked when they are getting engaged. Once they are engaged, they're asked when they're getting married. Once they are married, they're then asked when they're having a baby. And believe it or not, once the first baby arrives, they're asked when will that baby have a sibling. I too, was guilty of asking those questions.

Those automatic, rote, habitual questions, are exactly that. Habitual. We ask them because in our minds, and in most cultures, it's the order of events in life. However, as innocent as these questions may seem, they shape minds, they set in stone a template, a scheduled plan that 'should' be followed. We find and date several significant others, time and time again, until 'the one' arrives. Once he/she comes into our lives, the pressure is on. We count down the days to engagement. The counting becomes even more intense after the engagement up until the wedding day. And then baby comes. And another, and maybe another. These human beings follow life's plan down to a T. 

Good for the ones that really envision their lives this way. Those who dream and truly know that that is what they want. 

But I am sure that there are many who think they want to walk down life's most common path, but really don't. Those who are influenced and pressured, and 'should' all over themselves given the examples set forth in their families, and constant questioning once they reach a certain age. Thus, they think they want what most want, but realize they actually don't later on in life. Those who rather live their lives traveling alone or with someone else, or simply love their solitude, enough to not want to have another human being next to them 24/7. Some are strong and true to themselves, and know early on they don't fit in the popular cookie cutter. Others realize a little later that they went down a path that has been paved over and over again, and decide that it's time to change routes. 

My husband and I have been together for almost 13 years. 2 years out of the 13, married. Given the pattern of events in my life, the next step would be kids. However, we have recently realized that children is not something we see in our future. At least not at the moment. Both our parents want grandchildren. We are asked time and time again when kids will come. The famous questions, that put little pressure to those who have an expected and adequate answer, but somewhat annoying to those, like us, who answer differently, leaving the other party a bit baffled with little to say. 

So given the stage in which we're in, should we have children? in the eyes of the world, yes, in our eyes, no. We shouldn't do anything we don't want to do, regardless of the pressure, regardless of the set-in stone life patterns. I've never been good with routine, normalcy, and typical. I am recently starting to embrace that side of me, and discovering and/or creating myself in ways I hadn't before. And I'm lucky to have someone by my side who accepts that about me, and is learning that he too, can see beyond the normal. 

Will we have kids? Maybe one day. And when, and if, that day comes, it will be because in my heart that is exactly what I want. 

A Letter to My 18 Year Old Self

#52Essays2017
Week 7


I get easily inspired by life's happenings and my surroundings. A beautiful photo, a quote, a movie, nature, songs, the taste of apple pie. Whenever my senses capture beauty, my heart responds with overwhelming fluttery palpitations, my mind goes a little wild, and I even get teary-eyed. Today morning I was inspired by a blog post. The author wrote a letter to her 22 year old self. As I read, I remembered I did this two years ago. However, mine was a tad different; I wrote a letter to my future self. I asked my future self questions. I told her I was doing as much as I could now to be where we wanted to be in the future.

I put into writing, in the form of a letter, where I was at that moment in time, and the promises I intended to keep, and still do, for a bright future for me.

Given that I've written a letter to myself in the future, and constantly write to myself in the present, I think it's only fair to not abandon the 18 year old girl that would have loved to read a letter that gave her the pep-talks and advice she lacked. She would have appreciated it so much.


Dear Angie, 

How are you dreamy girl? I am writing to you with the irrational wish of rewinding 10 years, and seeing you from a corner in your room opening this letter while you sit on your desk working on a ridiculous college paper, instead of using your dexterous fingers and artistic mind to create something beautiful, which is what you really want to do. Seeing you read it, and cry, and laugh, and feel a sense of relief that you're not that crazy. That your heart and mind are not faulty. You're just a little different, and normalcy isn't your thing. But different is beautiful, and you'll be ok. 

How are you liking your boring forensic psychology classes? I kid. I kid. I know you don't find them too boring. But deep down you know it isn't for you. 
You'll change your major two more times. And even go to grad school, and have a career you'll be very proud of. But the pride won't suffice. Because, it's not your heart's calling. Throughout these robotic years, you'll also have moments of crazy happiness and beautiful, impulsive mistakes. Hold them close. You'll do what makes your parents proud. You'll do what you think is right. You won't have time to create. You'll desert art. I know. I'm ashamed of it too. You'll continue to live for others. To put others' happiness before yours. And because of that, you'll hurt. You'll put yourself in second place, time and time again. You'll abandon you. Us. 

The neglect will be so extreme that years later you'll wake up one day and like a bucket of ice-cold water thrown at you, you'll shiver and gasp for air when you realize you don't know who you are, and the life you are creating for yourself is not the one you want. It isn't YOU.  

But you'll be ok. You will figure it out. Trust me, that confusion and feeling of helplessness will be the best thing that will ever happen to you. You will cry for hours, and days, and be confused out of your mind. I wish I could be there to console you. To hug and wipe the tears of the younger me. But I won't. I do promise you'll get out of it. You'll get back on your feet and like a warrior, a tiny, 5 foot 1 inch warrior, with a strong, wild and deep heart you'll start listening to it.

You'll listen to the beatings of your heart and will have conversations with it. Listen to what it tells you, it will introduce you to the depths of your soul. There will be painful moments, not because you won't like who you truly are. We love her. You'll feel pain and discomfort, because the journey can get bumpy, as you've never been here before. You will feel like you wasted so much time, so how will you ever get to where you want be? But you will. I am still working on it now, and trust me, we're getting far. 
You'll be ok, Ang. Trust yourself. Love yourself. Hug yourself. Give your soul all that it asks for. We deserve it. 
See you in 10 years :)

Love, 

Angie

The Onion Journey

#52Essays2017
Week 6


Ever since I started focusing on myself, I've reintroduced myself, to myself, quite a few times. "Oh hey, writer Angie!" "Well hello photographer Angie!" "hmmm, nice to meet you dreamer AND doer Angie" "Hey there, not so shy, pretty extrovert Angie" "How you doin' adventurous Angie?" and it goes on.

At first, I thought, 'I'm becoming all these things that I love'. But now I know, I'm unbecoming everything I was not, and freeing who I've always been. It's like I am onion who stuck its little hand out somehow and started peeling away. Peeling away layers of crunchy, non-edible, stubborn onion scales. Reaching the inside fleshy layers that are fresh and true.

The peeling of this onion will never end. I am sure of that. I think I will never fully and completely know myself, my capabilities, my talents, my passions, my likes and dislikes. As long as I'm living, I will grow more and more layers. But these layers will be true to me. These are onion layers that produce no tears, as they are not bitter. Quite the contrary, they're the ones that are good for everything in life. Good enough to give the best guacamole a touch of magic. And good guac is good for the soul. That's the type of onion I am turning out to be.

Why are we not taught to discover who we are? To learn who we are, and BE just that. I mean, no one does that better than ourselves right? Instead we are told what to do, how to do it, what to think, who to be. We are clothed in scaly, heavy, undesirable onion layers from early on.
It is so early on in life that we are given a mold and are pushed, shoved and squeezed into it, that we grow up thinking that that's who we are. Some get lucky to have been given a mold close enough in size and form to who they truly are, and so shoving into it wasn't so difficult. Therefore living in their given mold is bearable, happy even. But others, most I dare to say, are so tightly and painfully squeezed in, that life somehow, some time, kicks you hard enough to liberate you. But we are then left in a limbo trying to figure ourselves out.

Now, that's when I come in to tell you, it's ok. You weren't taught how to do it. Don't beat yourself up for it. Be glad that life is giving you the opportunity to create your own template. Or if the onion analogy suits you best, then life is giving you a thin and long arm that will stick out of your onion and start peeling away.

You will feel lost. Confused. Lonely. Perhaps even angry, thinking you at least had your life figured out before. But having your life figured out when the person living your life is not truly you, is bland, is fake, is not real. So go ahead, do some conscious and voluntary peeling, before life forces you into the journey.

This onion journey does not have a definitive destination, because you are so much more complex than you think. But I promise you, you'll never go on a journey quite like this one. Ever.

Paying Attention

#52essays2017
Week 5

This piece was published in the February issue of the online magazine www.hispanecdotes.com  :)


"There is ecstasy in paying attention" this line in Bird by Bird by Anne Lammot struck me a few days ago as I read it, highlighted it and passed my fingers through it. Over and over again. As I did this, I paid attention to how the line made me feel, the thoughts running through my head, how the highlighted line blurred the rest of the text and stood out in front of me. I went to sleep with that in my mind.

Days have gone by since. Days that would otherwise be full of routine and monotony, had it not been for paying attention. I have been overdosing on paying attention ecstasy. I'm paying attention to people. Especially in the bus, on the way to and from work. What I realized while carefully scrutinizing them is that love is the most salient feature. It pops out like the highlighted line in my book. This realization occurred after the first person I was paying attention to offered her seat to an elderly man, and soon after, a gentleman offered his seat to her.

I observed and said to myself "that alone tells me a lot about them. I wonder what they love. I wonder what love looks like for them" and BAM love was all I saw.

While paying attention I saw mothers with their kids on their laps. Mothers standing and holding onto poles while their small children who didn't even occupy half of the seat journeyed comfortably. I saw a teenager texting the entire ride with a smile on her face that I bet whoever saw her couldn't help but feel her happiness and smile with her. I saw a man with his hands on his face and worried look while rubbing his laps every now and then. I saw a lady leaning her head on the window and looking out dreamily. I saw a couple sitting side by side holding hands and leaning their heads against each other, and another couple who argued on their way down from the bus as if no one was watching. I saw a few bookworms reading 'Choosing Me before We', 'Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix', and a third I couldn't catch. I saw some selfie and mirror lovers, and heard a few singers. One who sang so loud and with so much passion that if he were to be on The Voice, he would definitely have my vote.

In every facial expression, body language, and action I saw, I learned what a small fragment of love looked like for many of them. Love for things such as books and music, romantic love, tender family love, self love, and lack thereof. Although love is deep within us and sometimes secretive, it is also visible.

I saw more than I expected to see. I probably saw what I see all the time, but this time I paid attention. I paid close attention to love.