Finding Gratitude in Living Alone

The first night

The first night in my new little place. I never wanted to live alone again. Yet here I am. After 14 years, here I go again on my own.

I left my home of 8 years en chinga, (frantically), thinking I had everything I needed to get me through my first night. After delaying this inevitable milestone of 17 days with the keys, I finally stayed in my little place.

I quickly found out all the things of habit, comfort, and routine I was missing that I mindlessly didn’t realize I rely on:

Clean shower curtain, but no hooks.
An ill-propagated plant to cozy up my bathroom
A hair tie that my frizzy, sweaty hair desperately needed.
Toothbrush and pasta de dientes, (toothpaste).
Forgotten utensils to cook with.
A newly purchased online bulk pack of Modelito-sized locks for my basement I’m not supposed to be using. Too small to fit an average-sized lock … Looks like I outsmarted no one.
Broke the base of my fan, another new purchase, because I was too hot and impatient to put it together.
Extra pillows for extra coziness.
My genius motion sensor lights I put up so I don’t get scared at night … Except I put them on the wrong setting, and every time I moved, on they went. At one point in my sleep, I pushed the red strobe light instead of the off button … That wasn’t scary at all.
Still really missing a hair tie.
My morning coffee was different. It had collagen in it. What a great time to start new healthy habits, right? It tasted like whatever collagen tastes like … “To do: … bring normal coffee”.
A spoon for my yogurt. Specifically, those frozen yogurt spoons. They are perfect for yogurt and cereal … Plastic fork it is.

…

Frustrated gratitude

I climb back into my makeshift sleeping/sitting area with my breakfast of limited choices, and I spy my gratitude log that I have been using to write my, “To Do”, “To Bring”, and “To Clean” lists in. And I thought to myself, what a great time to list what I’m grateful for …

So, that is what this is. My, “I never wanted to live alone again, but I choose to be grateful for all of these life experiences on my new journey anyway”, list.

You see, amidst all these positive changes that have snowballed in my life since March, my fur baby passing, the two jobs I have been setting my life up for thus far, to finally getting my own place. I am grateful for being frustrated over my long frizzy hair that needs to be contained with a hair tie.

I’m grateful for my collagen coffee. It makes me appreciate my regular coffee. I’m grateful for the shower of abundantly cold water to wash the sweat away from a long, hot day and cool down my literal hot head.

All of these life-changing things transpiring in my privileged life in America as a citizen. As I watch my people in the streets fighting for their right to live a life of justice, domestic tranquility, and general welfare.

Mexican … American … citizen … advocate

I started my journey in the Latina space because I had to learn how to accept myself and what I wanted in my life. Have I achieved all of it? No. My accomplishments thus far are not adorned with sunshine, unicorns, flowers, and a money tree, but it’s what I’ve worked so hard for, and it is mine. I will never forget the challenges that got me here. I may be white presenting and a somewhat assimilated code-shifting chingona, but I will no longer stay quiet for your comfort.

I feel guilty for not writing more and being more proactive for mi raza. I’m barely learning how to care for myself in this bigoted nation. Nurturing my ADHD, little Doña, perimenopausal, and 1st and 1/2ish generation self. I have to take care of me. I have to remind myself to take care of me.
But I’m watching, I’m educating myself on the laws that are being blatantly ignored and conveniently and strategically changed to suit a racist nation.

I no longer feel the shock and awe from Jan 20th to Feb 20th. Everything that I was afraid was going to happen is happening.

At this point, we know what side people stand on. I don’t have to try my damndest to point out the history of Zoot Suit Riots, the “kill the Indian, save the man”, movement, and eugenics.

I’ll still write about it, but if you can’t see the abuse of power, absolute power corrupting absolutely, inhumane and indecent treatment of human lives, or the takeover of billionaires, despite your lived experience, I do not have the breath or energy to waste on ignorant conversations.

The administration may be on your side, in this moment, but your America is not mine, nor is it for millions of other indigenous people and people in general who have an ounce of empathy.

Our America is for all. Our America doesn’t boast, shoot dogs because their owner doesn’t know how to manage a farm, no less than an immigration department, and initiate an Act in the name of a slain college student with the agenda to strip the rights of anyone who looks too Mexican.

Our America isn’t wasteful on too many people because of the Mexican population. It’s wasteful because of elitists, who monopolize and rape the resources of mother earth. Those are the real savages.

What can I tell you that you haven’t already heard?

How do you sleep at night?

Don’t your 1000-count Egyptian cotton sheets reek of dead bodies?

How does all the blood come off your hands in one wash?

How do the millions of innocent people you mistreat and unjustly disappear not haunt your dreams?
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We all have our challenges. Many of us have a choice on what kind of life we want to live. While others in America don’t.

I am grateful for my ancestors and the protestors not putting up with the bullshit. I’m grateful that my family and friends are safe. I’m grateful to all of those who do, so I can have the opportunity to better myself and fight for our people in the way that others can’t. I am grateful for my little place and my new beginnings.

And I am grateful for my motion sensor lights, eating my favorite yogurt with a plastic fork,