My name is Esperanza. This page is supposed to be about me right? I kind of find that funny because for a long time I wondered who the heck I was, who I was supposed to be, and who I should be. It’s been a long and hard battle. You know that saying? Just Be Yourself.  Well, I wondered, how in the world are you supposed to be yourself when you don’t know who you are?  In my  school yearbooks, friends always wrote things like “stay sweet” or “you’re so sweet”. Ok, I thought, so I’m a sweet person. So what about when I got mad? Let’s keep that inside because I’m supposed to be sweet. That, needless to say, did not work. Then I found myself with a family and all the responsibilities that come with it. I was now a mom and a wife – that’s me I thought, a mom and a wife. Of course, like any mom/wife, all the running around caught up with me and in 2009 I found myself stuck with that annoying question: Who am I? At that time I could almost swear I was the only one in this world with that question. I was sure every one else knew who they were. That’s what I thought until I started reading again. A love I had left behind a long time ago. I started reading memoirs, biographies, self-help, and spiritual books. I was completely shocked when I found out I wasn’t alone in my questioning. In fact, I was part of the majority of the world. When that was settled I began to look for the things that made me unique, that made me, well, me. The problem was that in order to do that I had to go back to my childhood. That, I did not want to do. But I did it anyway, hesitantly and cautiously. I was careful not to step into the places that hurt the most. The places that were most open for viewing were the ones I walked into quite easily. Then I find out that the parts that hurt the most are the ones that I need to work on the most. Ugh! So I went ahead, I fought and I cried and I resisted all the way. It’s been five years since this quest started and I’m still not done. However, those five years definitely have not been in vain. They have served their purpose, I have done so many things that in the past I would not have dared to do. For example, not being able to admit that I did not know who I was. That was a huge deal for me and one that filled me with lots of shame. But now, here I am sharing it with you on the Internet! Of course I’ve also found out a few other things about myself. I guess this is where the About Me comes in, so here I go.

I was born in Los Angeles, California to Mexican immigrants. The culture that I grew up with is what fills me with curiosity for the world. I love learning about different cultures and finding out how they are different or similar to mine. I love to paint and more often than not, the colors that fill my canvases are inspired by the deep, bright colors of Mexican traditions. I also am a total introvert. Where I used to fight it and hope that growing up would make it go away, I now revel in it. I love that part of myself, I love knowing that I can enjoy my own company and also have a handful of friends I can count on. Painting has also become and important part of my life. My desire, as a little girl, to grab a brush and some paint was always drowned in my fear of messing up, of doing it wrong. That fear shows up every once in a while but I’ve learned to overcome it and now I can grab a brush and even my hand to spread some beautiful color over a canvas. I’ve also learned that watching people has a name: flaneur. It’s actually ok to be a flaneur, I’m not creepy for observing people. I like to watch how people interact with each other, how different and alike each person is and how their age, gender, and culture play a role in how they communicate. That really peaks my interest. Deep, deep down though, what I kept hidden for a long time (maybe I was trying to protect it?) was my writing. I don’t know what it was. I don’t know if I was hiding it or if I just thought it was a ridiculous dream or what but for a long time I couldn’t even admit it to myself. As a little girl I would sit on my bed writing for hours, just writing. I would write poems and love songs (at 7 years of age!) but I never shared them with anyone, instead I would throw them in the trash after I was done writing them. Eventually I stopped writing and I have no idea why but every so often it would come bubbling up to the surface and I would either write something small or I would shove it back down thinking I was too busy for that nonsense. Then early this year, after my grandmother had passed away, I started a journal about my dad and his alcoholism. The start of that journal has opened the door for so many other projects that I only could dream about before. I’m now working on writing my first book and not long after I started working on that book a Writer’s Group started getting together in the little city I live in. Wow! I’ve also started writing about other stuff that before I would have marked as uninteresting. And now here I am starting a blog dedicated to my writing! Life is truly amazing isn’t it? If we just open up a little.

Please grab a cup of coffee and make yourself at home . . .