Blogs

Loyalty✨

Posted by Priscilla G. on

I am a loyalty feign. I give not to receive, but when I receive, I'm hooked. A fix of faithfulness, a drip of devotion. The more you supply, the more I come back. Being loyal is a cultural maxim for Latinos. Loyalty was engrained into our child minds along with superstitions and the ABCs. We are taught to blindly respect elders and esteem the family unit over the individual. Latinas are supplied a special strain of loyalty. One laced with codependency and with side effects of dissatisfaction and neglect. Latinas are taught to take up little space. We are taught...

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My Body. 👗 My Choice.

Posted by Priscilla G. on

Trigger Warning: Sexual Abuse Little girls should have few burdens to carry. Their biggest concern should be falling off a bike. But, the world's axis doesn't spin on shoulda, coulda, wouldas. Instead, the world twirls on the backs of child brides with a rhythm unbothered by child mothers. Harlem. Hong Kong. Miami. Moscow. Little girls are forced into a cult of domesticity. Trapped by tradition and held captive by custom. Thankfully, little girls grow into mindful women. Some even go on to write blogs as adults  armed with anecdotal warfare to be grammatically correct and forever politically incorrect.  “Men will...

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Blame My Zodiac Sign ♊

Posted by Priscilla G. on

Whenever I'm interested in reading a book I skip to the middle and read a few lines. I like to sample a taste of the author's creativity and savor the energy of their work. I want a glimpse of what I could get into. Zodiac signs are like Spark Notes on someone's personality. I always ask someone their zodiac sign when I first meet them. If I didn't, it's because I already had the intel.  For those thinking zodiac personality traits aren't real or that they apply indiscriminately, you're probably an Aries. I hope when you research your own sign you...

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Not Your Mami. 💃🏻

Posted by Priscilla G. on

I won't tell you to "say my name" because you can't even pronounce it. Your eyes are intimidated by my accent marks. Your legs are weak and trip over my double Rs. Your mouth is allergic to the taste of my culture. But- what I will tell you to do is to stop calling me "mami."  You are not my child. You are not my family. You are not my partner. You are not my friend.  I don't know you. Most people don't know me. I grew up frequently relocating. Go ahead, ask me "Where are you from?" and watch how I struggle...

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