The heart holder

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Her heart, I held it for a second because it slipped out of her the moment he left.

I told her she’ll be ok and that she didn’t need a man like that.

Worse of all was that she is older than me and would never want me seeing her cry over a man.

But although I was young, I already understood love is flawed.

She assured me she was strong. Wiped the tears off her face and said, “I can do better.”

I knew she could but I also knew they’ll get back together any day.

Despite her being smart she had a debilitating love for this man.

A man who didn’t treat her right, who didn’t love her the way a diamond should be loved.

He treated her more like a second option he can run to when he felt lonely.

She was more like a property he owned and invested in.

I told her, “Get back with him and I honestly might not be your friend anymore.”

Maybe if I scared her it will work.

A week later they were back together.

Yet again, there I was, holding her heart again until he decided to come back and play with it once more…

Within

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✂️✂️✂️💇🏻‍♀️💇🏻‍♀️💇🏻‍♀️💇🏻‍♀️

My hair symbolizes a lot to me. It symbolizes my need for change, my need to be in charge and my need to take out frustrations.

This summer I did something I would’ve never done in the past. I cut my hair above my shoulders. It was shorter than it has ever been in my 22 years on this planet.

Everyone questioned me and asked why I cut my long hair. At first, I would say because I wanted to. Yes, it’s my choice and I wanted to. My hair, my choice to do whatever I want with it of course.

I realized once I kept wanting to cut my hair even shorter that I was doing it for deeper reasons. I was going through a hard time precisely when I made that decision.

I was at a point where I was frustrated with my emotions, myself and my memories. I needed a big change. Something to distract my mind from the hardships of life.

That first time I cut my hair I felt liberated. This change was going to bring me a confidence I was lacking. I was liberated from being the same woman who was melting away inside. I looked in the mirror and saw something different.

The second time I cut my hair even shorter was because I had reached a breaking point. I wanted to keep escaping from who I was and the image I was so accustomed to in the mirror.

Yes cutting my hair was positive but I was avoiding the truth within. The truth that I was unhappy and I had to heal within so I could love what I saw in the mirror.

Short hair, long hair, makeup, bare-faced, I had to fall in love again with what was within…

Beautiful in our own way

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I used to think the only way I could be beautiful was by being the “ideal” woman. I thought having a small waist, and a goddess like body was ideal.

I thought I’d be less lonely, less insecure and less empty with that ideal body. Got tired of the crash diets, and crying when I looked in the mirror. These few women that society glorifies have this image that the majority of women just don’t pertain to.

Us women come in different shapes and sizes. We are all made of different genes, different features, different beautiful skin tones.

What we see glorified on t.v and what society tells us we should look like is something we need to fight against.

We all come in different sizes and in different varieties. Us women make the world go round and if someone can’t accept your beauty in its unique form, then show them what they are messing with.

Be strong, be unapologetic.

This is a reminder to the world and myself that being a woman is much more than our bodies. It’s our brains, our smiles, our goals, our personalities, the list is infinite.

The “ideal” woman is every woman.

We are all ideal in our own beautiful way.

Las Mujeres Somos Fuerte

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Las mujeres somos fuerte

This is something my mother has said to me since I was a child. Since I was a little girl unaware of what women hood would bring, she would lift my little head up and say this phrase. To those who do not speak Spanish, it means “Us women are strong.”

I was unaware of what strength meant. To me when I pictured the word strong I pictured a person lifting a couch with their pinky’s. Lifting a building was also something I associated with the word strength.

When I thought of strength at the age of 7, I imagined it had to do with men. Men can lift things, they are bigger, they have “strength.”

My mother’s idea of strength was different and it shaped my childhood immensely. She said, “when a person deals with immense pain carrying a child and giving birth, that is a strength a man will never know.” She said, “strength can be emotional. Strength is in your heart.”

I have always been petite, so I liked this idea that I was strong within. I started living life this way. I envisioned my ability to cry and embrace my emotions as if it could punch a wall.

At times I’d be discouraged with life and feel weak, but my mom’s voice resigns in my head. “Las mujeres somos fuerte.” That phrase right there gave me the strength to get up and wipe my tears.

I’ve dated men who made me feel small but god how good it felt when I was strong enough to leave them or put myself first.

Strength is not just a ability in men. Strength is not always physical. Strength is tolerating the ups and downs of life and still loving living.

Strength is being able to embrace emotions. To stand up for yourself and show the world you are not less because of your sex.

I guess I wrote this because some days I forget what my mom said years ago before I could understand it, “Las mujeres somos fuerte.”

Self Love

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The strongest woman I know walks with confidence because she knows she is a queen.

A queen in a world full of many other queens.

She knows a queen never talks down on another because as women we have to uplift each other.

She is a creative masterpiece who loves people for their heart and not their book cover.

She loves her body because it is hers and unique.

Every piece of her is special because it’s the case to an inside so pure that no other soul can compare.

No soul is comparable to any other.

She is free, she is beautiful, she is clumsy, she is full of hope.

She is not perfect.

She admits that openly.

Because she knows perfection is a made up concept.

She is, she is, she is.

That woman is me…

Take it or leave it

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Beauty.

I’ve always been after this ideal “beauty.”

Puckering up my lips to put on some red lipstick.

Putting accessories in my hair.

Opening my eyes wide to apply some mascara.

Always heard the phrase, “beauty hurts.”

Taught to straighten my hair because curls aren’t appreciated.

Taught that every hair on my body is an abomination.

Gross, you have hairy arms.

So I started removing them.

Been told that if you do not have a booty and the perfect tiny waist you are not enough for a man.

That was what I learned from shows, movies, men etc.

Now at the age I am today, I have built up the confidence I was missing at that time.

Listen, take me as I am.

I may not be tall, skinny, blond or close to what the “ideal” image is.

But isn’t who I am ideal enough?

I have inner and outer beauty.

My body is curvaceous.

My hair is full of life.

My face is smooth with or without makeup.

I am Gods creation.

My face shows a history.

Take me as I am.

No man or woman on this planet can ever tear me down because I look how I look and I love it.

I will forever love how I look.

Take it or leave it.

It’s your loss anyway.

From the girl you used to know

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This is a letter from the girl you used to know.

The girl you used to see in the mirror.

The broken child you used to be.

This is a letter from the shy child who never spoke up.

Never said anything about her sorrows, and had secrets.

This is from the girl you used to be.

Now you are a woman.

I am proud of who you are.

It’s amazing knowing that one day I won’t be shy.

That one day, I’ll have friends who actually love me.

That one day I’ll have countless lovers through time who teach me about myself and life.

It’s amazing knowing one day I will make writing my life.

I will be motivated to keep, you know, living.

This is a letter from the child that still is inside you.

She cries some days and that’s why you feel your heart aching.

You have done a good job at trying to heal me.

You have healed me to some extent, still, need some work.

Things you still haven’t dealt with I suppose.

Thank you.

Thank you for working through the obstacles and the anxiety.

The ups and downs and the inner hideous people who we’ve encountered.

To the woman I am now, how did I ever get to be such a bold woman.

Such a strong woman.

How were you ever the girl you used to be?