Letter to Younger Self

Dear Younger Yeiry,

The author, Yeiry Guevara, at 10 years old.

The author, Yeiry Guevara, at 10 years old.

I’m so sorry to have disappointed you. Growing was harder than you originally thought. Knowledge did not grow on trees. Wisdom found you only after you left the party. Independence was won after an internally bloody war.

You are not where you thought you would be.
You don’t have the square corner office, Ms. Non-Manager.
You don’t have a husband or any children to call your own.
You are not the perfect daughter you once prided your identity on.
You are not the perfect friend you once pictured yourself.
You are a mediocre sister.
You don’t write anymore.

Your creative writing has gnawed its’ own tail, bored from being chained to a tree of procrastination.
Your poetry has atrophied and all your idealism has dried up like the water reserves in California.

Not all news are bleak.

Things are way better than you originally thought.
You acknowledge your flaws now.
You know how to dress for your size.
You now longer have to memorize joke books to develop a sense of humor.
You are vulnerable and you are not weak.
You’ve built your own website and it’s pretty cool.
You’ve made a bunch of stuff and you’re super proud of it.
You have opinions and are articulate enough to be assertive.
You also know so many cool words.
You are funny.

You are self-aware enough to know when you aren’t.
You are a better daughter, sister, friend than you think.
On the outside, you’re a boss; but on the inside, you’re a softie.
You can let loved ones in on your loving, squishy, cotton candy insides.
If you believe in anything, believe that it’s going to be okay.
It will get shittier than now, but it will not break you.
Believe in me.
You are unbreakable.

Eternal Love,


Commodification of My Idols

I'm getting nauseas by the commodification of my idols. It's as if white people are just noticing how "cute" we are. How our latin@ culture is just "darling". They make products from our images but refuse to maintain eye contact during a conversation. They are profiting a dollar from the art while refusing to acknowledge me and my educated peers as anything beyond "the help".

I don't need a Selena lapel pin.

I really don't need a punk rock envisioning of what Frida Kahlo may look like if she had tattoos.

These women are not yours to own.

The works they creation from their pain is not yours. Our hearts were broken alongside theirs and please stop making them what they are not: products for your Etsy shop, Halloween dress for your baby, or theme for a dance party.

My culture is not a costume.