Hello Blogging World, It’s Me…Again

I can’t even say for sure what inspired me to get back on the blogging scene again, especially considering it’s been almost 4 years since my last post (eeek), but I decided that as a stay-at-home mom I need a creative outlet. Several blog ideas have popped into my head these past few weeks and since it’s not quite March yet, it’s definitely not too late to jump on a new aspiration for 2018, so here we go!

2017 for me was a year of a lot of hardship and change. In the fall of 2016, I got married and had a baby, so all of 2017 was pretty much just recovering from/acclimating to those big changes in my life. Childbirth wasn’t all that traumatic for me physically, (I will definitely share Reagan’s birth story at some point) but emotionally and mentally was one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through. Postpartum is definitely not talked about enough, so it came as quite a surprise that I could feel anything but happiness and rainbows. More on that later.

All that to say, I am fully emerged from my ‘funk’ and 2018 so far has been hugely motivational and I feel nothing less than inspired to figure myself out again. It’s so easy to feel mom-guilt for taking time for yourself, but as much as I love being a full-time mom and wife, I know I will be better for doing this.

Writing has always been therapeutic for me and even though I’m not currently living and writing about my exotic, travel-filled, carefree backpacking across Europe days, my current adventure is “mama-hood in the ‘burbs”. Not as interesting, I know, but this is my new norm; and I hope you enjoy this journey with me!



in which i learned to belong

Lately I’ve resorted to the use of writer’s prompts because I’m at a loss for things to write about. Creative juices are running slow this year. Today the word is, ‘belong’.

It conjures up so much emotion for me; especially when preceded by the word ‘I’.

I belong.

Growing up, I did not belong. I was the ugly duckling. Not that I was ugly, I don’t think… I just stood out. A lot. I wasn’t really like anyone else. When I was home in Latin America, I didn’t look like anyone else. When I would visit America, I could physically blend in easily enough, but I couldn’t change how I was made or how I thought about life. I never belonged completely to either group. Common TCK dilemma.

Where's the white girl?

See if you can spot the white girl…

Typically in life, you belong with the people you share common interests with. Ever since I can remember, my parents have said that I was born in the wrong era. I never liked the same things people my own age enjoyed. I had developed from a young age a deep-rooted love for: jazz, reading classic literature, classical music, baking, gardening, old movies, and ballroom dance… These loves continued to manifest in my life and you can just imagine how many kindred spirits I found through the years — very few.

I was the middle kid in a larger than average family of 9. I didn’t feel like I belonged with either the olders or the littles. I mostly just did my own thing and bounced back and forth between the siblings, whichever I could profit from in the moment. I was also the only white girl my age living in a town full of boys and was considered to be ‘one of the guys’. I’m taller than average for girls and I grew taller than many of the boys I was friends with too. The only thing that was ever average about me was my shoe size (US 7.5); and even in that, I am female bigfoot in Mexico. From a young age I was taller than and had bigger feet than most full-grown men.

It really does wonders for a girl’s self esteem…

These were my closest friends from age 13 until I graduated high school, plus 2 visitors from Canada.

My best friends from age 12 until I graduated high school (and 2 visitors).

To belong.

Although my college friends would never be down to fox trot with me to ‘A Foggy Day’, they do share my love for food; specifically, Korean BBQ. We’d frequently go into the heart of Koreatown to share a late second dinner. I’d look around the table at the people who had become my friends in a short amount of time and I began to view our group as an outsider would see us, realizing we were probably the most diverse group of people you could place together. If I were to give each friend a label identifying them based on the surface: race, sex, background, and genetics, there’s no way we’d be friends; let alone sharing a meal together; let alone be in the same room. Picture Jets vs. Sharks. I’d totally be with the Sharks. We Latinos gotta stick together, man.

As embarrassing as it is to admit, it wasn’t until my senior year that I realized: ‘belonging’ has nothing to do with sharing physical characteristics, the same interests/dislikes, or having a history with a person. It doesn’t even have to do with race, background, or age. If you were to go around our table and label us based on our hearts, you would find a commonality. We are no longer defined by our pasts. Jesus Christ died for our sins. We are bought. We are chosen. We are redeemed. Because we first belong to Christ, we can then belong to and love each other; because we see one another as God sees us — a new creation. Belonging is rooted in the deepest fibers of us; the parts being made to look more like Christ. Because of that, I can look at the diversity of my friends and think…for now anyway, belong here.

I’m linking up with SheLoves Magazine‘s February writing prompt…in March.
Because I’m a rebel.