Dear, Me.

It’s been a while since I have written here. So many things have happened in life since then, both good and bad. I feel as if I’m floating again. Watching my life pass me by as I float above and watch. I feel no emotions. and then I feel too many emotions. Tired, sad, hopeless, desperate. There is too much going on. and then nothing at the same time. One thing is for certain though.

I’m a dreamer. literally. That is what the media has nicknamed me and people like me. brought to this country at the ripe age of four, illegally by parents who are the real definition of dreamers. They gave up everything they had so that I could have a chance to fulfill my dreams, not a guarantee but a chance. They gave up family, friends, culture, everything they knew so that I could have a chance. I can’t let their sacrifices go to waste. I have to be successful because it’s not just about me. Damn that’s a lot of pressure. I don’t know if I Can do it but I have to try. I have to let the doubt that lives in my brain, and paralyzes me with fear go. I have to turn my dreams into reality

I want so much out of this life. A career, a family, a home, happiness. Most of all I want to feel safe. My anxiety is crippling at times. I worry how I’m going to pay for school, how my parents will retire.. where they will retire. How I’ll be able to afford children one day, or a home, or vacations. I worry that one day I’m going to have to go to a place I never knew. I try to assimilate.. I’m often thankful I don’t have a strong accent, that I could pass as someone from this country. And I’m so ashamed that I’m thankful for that.

I worry that I’m betraying my parents and ancestors by trying to be something I’m not. I love being Mexican but I am sometimes afraid to show it too proudly. Afraid that someone will misinterpret my critiques of this country as a statement that I don’t like it here. Afraid that someone with ignorance in there heart could technically report me to ice and I’d be gone forever, with no claim to the life I had here.

I’m ashamed because at times I don’t feel like a dreamer. I’m not wishing to change the world. Just to keep it constant without fear of it changing suddenly. Ashamed because I’m not brave enough to speak my thoughts, to protest injustices, to be loud and proud of what and who I am. 

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