I began a post about my time in Punta Cana and how I wanted to kill my momma, but, once I returned from using the ladies room, the piece, saved as a draft, was blank.
I am taking this as a sign. The Universe wants me to stop complaining about Mami. Instead, The Universe wants me to do something about my unsettling feelings, which have led me to be an ungrateful daughter at times.
I love my mother. But, as most of you may agree, mothers know how to push the wrong buttons to drive us from respectful, obedient Latina daughters to nasty sarcastic Americanas. With a snap of my neck and a smack of my lips, I hear Mami wail, “Yo no te crie asi!”
And she’s right.
Mami raised me to be a good girl who speaks when she is spoken to and doesn’t move unless asked. She trained me to sit still when en casa ajena and I better not touch anything anywhere under any circumstance! My upbringing has led me to become a respectful woman who believes in family. Mami wanted her daughters to be independent and to succeed, particularly financially.
And this is where my need for approval kicks in.
Like a bat seeing daylight for the first time, I flap around, scrambling for the safety of success. I’ve jumped from job to job, hoping one will stick because I want a pension and health insurance and a check deposited into my bank account every other Friday. In the end, I am only satisfied doing what I love: creating stories about my life and filming comedic sketches. Mami doesn’t understand this. She fears it will not happen for me.
I’m afraid she’s given up on me.
So, here I am. Back from Punta Cana with a fantastic tan and a heavy heart. I don’t want to give up but I don’t want to fail…myself…my sister…Mami. I don’t want to be the daughter who lives with her mother forever, the jamona that is talked about and miserable. I don’t want to be the sister who can’t afford vacations. I don’t want to be the woman who regrets and lives in a cyclical state of what if.
My life cannot be a blank page.
My life will not be a blank page.