A Little Lesson About History

I heard somewhere one time that the reason we study our past is to make sure we know ourselves as a race so well, we stop making the same mistakes over and over. However in reality that is not the case, no, in reality history just keeps repeating itself. Our legacy as a race so far is a never-ending vicious cycle. All the wars, conflicts, acts of terrorism, it’s all the same in its core. Time only changes the people involved and maybe, sometimes, the circumstances, but the rest stays still. Whatever the time period or the place in the world, the situation is the same: Those in power use it to stay that way, and chase and discard of whatever threatens it or doesn’t serve their purpose, and of course, those who think differently won’t give up that easily. And yes, I realize I sound a lot like Karl Marx, but I do believe he had a point in his conflict theory. I find amazing how, despite all the evidence and people that have stated the same thing, we still keep on tripping over the same stone. Talk about not recognizing something even if it’s staring at us in the face, because believe me… It’s staring, for some time now.

That time when I (accidentally) realized that I was proud of myself

There was nothing different about that day, nothing at all. I woke up as sleepy as any other day, dealt with misbehaving kids at work like always, and sat at home to write in an common cold afternoon in the middle of winter. I was writing an article about the story of How I Became a Feminist. It dragged me back to moments of personal struggle and, even though I didn’t quite understand it yet, growth.

By the time I made the decision of pulling myself together, I was feeling like I had wasted several relevant years of my life, the time when I should be building the foundations of “my empire” or whatever powerful person I should be becoming. Theoretically I knew I was young and had hopefully many decades of life ahead of me, but being surrounded in college by 19 year old seniors and entrepreneurs who knew exactly what they wanted and weren’t going to sleep until they had it, I felt that by not doing the same, and not being even close to it, I wouldn’t become anything for myself.

In the article I went chronologically, starting from my childhood and explaining all the events that led to me becoming the person that I am today. By the end of it, I stated that simple things that I took care of myself, and that can seem little to most people, “helped [greatly] to shape the person that I am today”. If I’m being completely honest, I chose to say that because it seemed like the right thing to say, but as I typed those words I realized the powerful truth they held.

In that moment I understood that the person I’ve become is strong, funny, confident, and smart. She isn’t afraid anymore of saying what she thinks and beliefs in, and is willing to fight for them. She doesn’t hide behind a shield of false safety (Mostly), and she isn’t afraid of making mistakes, because she’s learned that they are the proof of the fact that she is trying and not simply giving up.

I wish I had the words to describe exactly how empowering that feeling is, to be proud of yourself and how far you’ve come. I might have found what I’m passionate about a little later than a lot of people, but I have the satisfaction that even in those foggy times, I knew myself enough to not settle for things that didn’t feel right. I might not have been sure of a lot of things, and I mean a lot, but I did know with every fiber of my being that choosing something I didn’t absolutely love just for the sake of finishing college in a time frame that was considered acceptable, wasn’t worth my happiness and becoming a bitter and grumpy adult.

I often wish I knew how to play the piano, and strangely, every time I’d write I would feel like I was doing it. They seemed oddly similar. The way in which typing each letter composed what I hoped was something beautiful, and conveyed the chaos of emotions that own my being.

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Siempre había querido aprender a tocar el piano, y cada vez que escribía sentía que de alguna forma extraña lo estaba haciendo. La forma en que tocar teclas al azar con mis dedos componían lo que esperaba fuese algo hermoso y transmitieran el caos de emociones que eran dueños de mi ser.

Tu derecho se termina donde empieza el de los demás

I know this is a controversial topic, so I’d appreciate if everyone respects my opinion the same way I do others. And please, ready everything before making any assumptions.

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Yes, I am a Feminist. I believe in gender equality, that women have the right to earn the same amount of pay for an amount of work as men do. I think that society gender roles are stupid, and we all can pitch in with expenses and house chores regardless of sex.

I am also against abortion.

Being a feminist I’ve struggled for years feeling that it meant I needed to be pro-choice… Except I’m not.

Self Portrait

With a cup of coffee in my hand a cautious step, I approached the full-length mirror that morning. I wondered how she would look this time, would our troubled roots be so deep down we’d need more time to reconcile?

You can only be genuinely happy when you’re free, and you can only be completely free when you are yourself. Because if you are not being yourself then you are dragging that around, with that weight holding you back you can’t be truly free, and if you don’t feel free, how can you be happy?

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Solo se puede ser genuinamente feliz cuando se es libre, y solo se puede ser completamente libre cuando se es uno mismo. Porque si no estás siendo tu mismo entonces cargas ese peso en tus hombros, con ese peso impidiéndote seguir adelante no puedes ser verdaderamente libre, y si no te sientes libre, ¿Cómo puedes ser feliz?

Normal is just an illusion.

“Normal is just an illusion, what is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.” — Morticia Addams.

Half of the people wants to be normal, the other half claims to be different. But truth is that we all have things in common, and things that differ from each other… And if that’s the case, we can’t be completely normal or completely different, can we?

So, to my understanding, what we really are is unique.

Now, think about it for a second. If we are all unique, wouldn’t that mean that we are all different, and at same time, the same, and by that, normal? So we are indeed normal, since being unique is what is common among human beings. 

We could go on and on, but does it truly matter?