Writing has been my escape

A way to cope and

Leave the pain

Behind.

Writing has been a gift to myself

That I unwrap years later

To find time capsules of joy that

I created for

Me.

But when I dared to dream,

I envisioned what writing could be.

Getting paid to write?

Not possible said younger me.

And I dreamed different dreams

That became reality.

But then something happened between

Not giving ...

Mrs. W. was my only friend in 5th grade.

When the bell rang, the kids left, I stayed.

She provided an escape.

For my dreams to take shape.

And for all my fears to fade....

“Get down from there this second, you headache of a person!” My stepmom yelled at seven-year- old me the first time I stayed at her house.

“I need my dad!” I yelled back walking up the stairs two at a time. “I have a nose bleed.”

“Don’t go getting blood all over my white walls!He’s napping. Get down here before you wake him up.”

I stared at her from the top of the stairs, holding my nose, feel...

I did not set out to be a single mom

But I am not ashamed to be one.

Pride guides me.

When I look up on tired days and see her.

Happy, thriving, swimming in the joy

Of two parents that love her

Unconditionally

And forever....

My mom says that bachata dancing is for barrio bachelors that are looking to grind with ladies without taking them on a date and clearly I don’t wan’t that. Or do I?

“Where are we going?” My best friend, Brenda asks. She plays with the seatbelt in her passenger seat.

The night air smells of fried plantains and ground beef as we pass a vibrant food truck with a line that goes around the block.

...

Internal body temperatures vary like birthmarks.

Mine stays at a thousand degrees, burning my insides, forcing me to turn on my fan in the winter.

My fan stays at my bedside.

I keep him close.

His propeller lulls me to sleep.

His gentle breeze caresses me like an affectionate lover....

Vivian is awaken by the ringing of her cell phone.

“Hello,” she whispers. She keeps her eyes closed hoping this call is part of a dream.

“Viv, where is your man?” Kelly screams.

Vivian holds the cell phone away from her ear and looks at the time. It’s 2:00am. She glances at the empty side of her California King-sized bed. She then peeks at the baby monitor relieved that her best friend hasn’t...

The night air in the Chilean Atacama desert is surprisingly cold. Walking out of the copper-colored adobe house I can see my breath as white clouds escaping my lips begging for peace in the black night. The stars are abundant, but are not as bright as I’m used to for a desert town.

“Isn’t it too late for a young woman to be walking alone? There aren’t any street lights,” the new hostel guest who...

My coffee beans were harvested in Caribbean coastal towns where summer sea breezes caress them as they grow.

My coffee beans glow in the warm winter sun waiting for their moment of March magic. The moment where they are selected to sail away to their new home.

My coffee beans, now ground, glisten eagerly on my countertop waiting for their stovetop jacuzzi and their morning massage of silky nut-m...

My house has wall-to-wall windows. Makes it easier to enjoy the turquoise ocean view without ever having to set foot outside. From my room, I see passing boats and spend my time staring at the pretty multi colored fish and green sea turtles. The city of Maji is built entirely on water and my dad made sure I had a front row seat to its beauty.

“Just learn to swim,” my brother, Leo says. “The purpl...