Let's go back in time. Back to the best time in Chicago, October 2017. I was making my Little’s gift boxes. I got Val The Sun and Her Flowers. That book makes me feel some sort of way, and I cried to it a lot. But there was this one poem, that broke me. I cried with such sentiment, that I felt my entire core shake. It felt like I wasn’t the only one crying; there was so many emotions that I knew my ancestors were crying, through me.

At that moment, I felt less alone. I felt the love of my ancestors. They are supporting me, no matter what path I chose. Until this moment I felt scared. Scared that I may be the first woman in my family to not have kids. To be the first to not get married. Oh what a shame I would bring to my family. What would they think of me? Would they still love me?

I love kids, all kinds. I have a bond with them. Mostly, because I know what it feels like to be a kid. In all social situations, I rather play with kids than talk to adults.

But, I’m so scared to have my own. I refuse to bring anyone into this world, if it is not in the most perfect conditions. I don’t want my kids to have just the world, I want my kids to have the stars and the moon. I don’t just want to love them, but make sure they know that they can be who they truly are, and I will be there every step of the way. Having kids, is not something I want to half-ass.

So I’ve decided, I’m either going to have kids, and have everything around me be rainbows and butterflies, or I’m not having kids at all.

I know it seems like it is very black and white, and to me it is. I know there is more to kids than blah blah, and blah blah.

People think that I haven’t though of this. People think that I am living in this fantasy world and have no idea what I am talking about, but oh trust me I do! Just because I plan out my life does not mean that I do not know what I am talking about. And the thing is, I can plan my life, and I will!

Then winter break happened. I went to Colombia, and I spent my entire time with my family. (which is rare for me, because now that I travel often, I barely have time to visit the fambam).

I have always been much closer to my grandma; my moms mom. My mom and grandma have a weird relationship. As the grand daughter, I am much closer to my grandma than my mother could ever be.

One day, my grandma and I were sitting in the living room and she asked me if I was still seeing Daniel. I laughed, I have not seen him for a while, but I did see him when I was in NYC. One thing lead to the next, and then she asked me why I don’t have a boyfriend. She thinks it's crazy that I workout so much and have a nice body to “not put it to use”. Yeah, I know, my grandma is hilarious!

Rolls eyes.

Grandma, honestly, it’s hard. I haven’t met another human, yet alone a guy, that enjoys the things I do, or has the same goals as me. First of all, apparently no one likes to travel as much as I do. Second, no one appreciates brunch as much as I do. Third, if they do like to travel and brunch, they don’t like to workout as much as I do. Fourth, if they check yes for the above, then they definitely do not like to volunteer. Fifth, it’s hard to find someone that is emotionally intelligent. I can’t deal with people with insecurities grandma! I just can’t! I rather eat a frog than be with someone that is a dummy, no matter how nice they are!

Grandma, I want an equal. Not just someone.

Grandma starts crying. “I wish I could do everything you are doing with your life. I really wish I could see the world, and could have lived my life differently. But when I was growing up, there weren't many options beside marriage”.

And this entire time, I was scared that you were going to think I was a weirdo! As we sat there crying and laughing, my grandma decided to tell me her most shameful secret.

I kept that secret for 6 months, but I told my mom on Mother’s Day. The thing is, I have been debating whether to write about it or not. After all, it’s not my story to tell, but my grandma’s.

My grandma doesn’t know how to read or write. She only knows how to write her name and her signature. When she first told me, I thought it was impossible. But then she told me how women in her time did not get an education. (This was around the 50s in Colombia). Even typing about it now, makes me emotional.

Everything about my grandmother made sense. She was the oldest of 7 children. So she was the first was to be "sent off". She was sent to her aunt, where she worked as a maid until she was 18. She did not get paid with currency, but by the food she ate and the roof over her head. She had to wake up at 4 am every morning to make breakfast for her aunt's husband. She did all the chores, and cooked every meal. Which is why she's so good at cooking! But knowing why my grandma is good at cooking, makes me want to get up and hug her; hug her until all the sadness in her is gone!

Now, re-read that poem, and tell me how you just can’t sit back and do nothing.

Now more than ever, I am motivated to do everything my heart desires. Now, more than ever, I want to live my life just to see my ancestors smile. Now, more than ever, I want to make my grandmother proud. All of her sacrifices were not in vein. After seeing where I come from, and how much my family has endure for me to have this life, has been the biggest wakeup call of 2018, and trust me, I’ve had plentiful (and the year is not even half over).