In the Absence of Love

In the Absence of Love

Growing up, Mami and Papi reminded me of the odd New York City sun shower, an unlikely combination. Perplexed by how they orbited the same space at once, I learned to move under the glare of their contrast. Yet, I resolved to attract a light to complement mine. Crushed by insecurities, my light flickered on and off, vowed to really be in love before I married, and certain real love was meant for two people.  I set out to find love.  What I found was, despite being married, love was not guaranteed.  Love had to be worked. Marriage defined as more than the series of clichés used to describe the hardships, or the sappy one-liners.  Lately, I have come to realize marriage is more than a relationship of two people, it’s about the relationship each person has with their own self. Continue Reading…

     

How To Write About My Failed Marriage

How To Write About My Failed Marriage

Being that most of you reading this are writers, aspiring writers, or people who have written something once, here’s a conundrum that I’m sure you’ve had – trying to write a personal essay when you’re in the middle of a shit storm.

My first ever article for this website was about my first date with my wife.

I wrote a cute tale about how on our first date, we experienced each other’s music, and it kind of became a metaphor for our relationship.

In December she moved out. Continue Reading…

     

#Engaged

#Engaged

Karla laid in bed, tilting her hand as she admired the glittering gem on her finger. She was mesmerized by the way it caught the light with every move.

Just the day before, her boyfriend of 5 years had popped the question. Of course she’d said yes. She’d been waiting her entire 25 years for this moment. Let the planning begin, she thought to herself as she got out of bed and walked into the kitchen.

“Buenos dias,” her mother said. “Por fin, se levantó la niña.”

Karla rolled her eyes and poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the counter. Her diamond flashed, courtesy of the sunlight shining through the window. Continue Reading…

     

True Love

True Love

Mine was a non-traditional wedding in so many ways.

I didn’t wear a white dress; I wore black slacks and an olive, long-sleeved blouse.

I didn’t have a maid of honor or bridesmaids; my brother signed the marriage certificate when the priest asked for my witness.

I didn’t have my papa walk me down the aisle; before the ceremony, I sat in the church pew waiting for the ceremony to start. This one had surprised my papa. I remember him asking, “I’m not going to walk you down the aisle?” when I told him my plan. Continue Reading…

     

Lessons Learned

Lessons Learned

I was fat and he was illegal.

When we were quickly engaged within months of meeting (gasp – ONLINE!) tongues were wagging. Obviously he just wanted to fix his papers, and she was so desperate she’d take anyone who would have her. Or so the rumor mill spewed. But, we marched on with the wedding planning, pulling together a venue, DJ, caterer, and bridal party in less than three months. Even had a traditional trio, a small Mexican musical group, to serenade us at the outdoor garden ceremony.

This swift sendoff to holy matrimony, rather than becoming just a short introductory blurb and chuckle when asked how we met, became for me an endless stigma to overcome. Continue Reading…

     

Broken Promises

Broken Promises

She ran with fear, purpose, and no shoes on her feet that night. She choked as she struggled not to swallow the blood that cascaded from the wound on her face down to her bruised neck and battered arms. She ran, fueled by the terror and desperation that had been confined in her soul, holding a baby and dragging a screaming toddler hoping to escape her executioner. She ran with a knife in her pocket. The same knife she used to fend him off one last time. The same knife he used to slice her face branding her with brutality and finality.

She went to the authorities, but they failed to protect her, and to avoid being murdered by her at- home sicario, she had to leave the country for a shelter in Mexico.   Continue Reading…