Being a Latina

Over the past year or so, I’ve started to be a bit more curious about my heritage and what it means to be Mexican. I figured since it’s Hispanic Heritage Month, now’s as good a time as any to talk about this. I want to get back into blogging, particularly after last week’s response to “sober curious” because damn, you guys blew that out of the water.

I was born in a city called Ciudad Juarez which is right opposite of El Paso, Texas. I grew up with a ton of American influence and even remember that my kindergarten was bilingual. On the weekends, we’d often take trips across the border to go shopping in the American malls and spend the day there. I grew up believing in the American Dream, and wanted nothing more than to make it in America. When I was 7, my mom’s job opportunity brought us to the United States — Louisville, Kentucky, of all places. My parents were divorced and had been for several years at this point so it was just my mom and I. We shared a beautiful little apartment next to a park and I loved it. It was something new and I didn’t really know what else to think at that age.

I lived a happy life in The States. I became truly bilingual and would even pick fights with my mom because she would pretend to not know how to speak English just so I wouldn’t forget my Spanish. I thought it was so annoying then but now I’m super thankful because I am fluent in both. I would also get to practice my Spanish every summer when I would go spend time with my grandparents. It was awesome — I felt like I had two lives because I was living in a completely different environment for almost half of the year. The problem that this created was that it made me wonder who and what I really was.

After some time, my mom and I were able to get our citizenship so we were officially American. We had both passports for some time — well I think we still have them — but it made me question if I was even Mexican anymore. Even though I learned Spanish first, English was my stronger language. At this point, I’ve spent more than half of my life living in The States and have very extreme “gringa” tendencies. When I went to Mexico, my friends began to say that I spoke Spanish like the automated translators. Like an American. They didn’t say it to be hurtful but it hurt like hell.

I think this is why I have really leaned in to music in Spanish so much the past several years. It’s the best way for me to practice speaking Spanish while living an American life. It makes me feel close to home and lately I find myself gravitating more and more to things that make me feel close to home. It’s the little things too. Each morning, I start my day by opening up Spotify and playing Bad Bunny’s latest album or even the “This is Karol G” playlist. I try to text my mom and grandma every morning “Buenos Dias, como dormiste?” before they text me first to check in on how they slept. On the rare occasion that I get on the Peloton, I filter to latin music or get on a ride with their Spanish-speaking instructor Camila. I think, to an extent, I love to drink tequila — not because it’s trendy and popular but because it’s the most Mexican thing I can drink. I love feeling Mexican.

For so many years, and I’ll try not to get too political here, I have felt like being Mexican should be hidden or muted. While I haven’t personally been bullied or attacked, I have felt that Mexicans and hispanics and immigrants as a whole have had a target on our backs. But despite all of that, there is nothing that makes me feel better than those little moments that remind me of home when I’m not there. I hope that people can be open minded to different cultures and be respectful and understanding and supportive of diversity.

I try to surround myself with like-minded individuals but the truth is, I love to argue. It’s not that I like conflict but like to have my ideas challenged and I like to have those discussions. I’m not great at accepting when people have different opinions and I used to think things were just black and white, right or wrong, but I’ve learned, or tried to force myself to learn that it’s important to be exposed to different opinions. Diversity of thought is essential.

One of the coolest opportunities that I have had was going to school on the South Side of Chicago. That’s not necessarily a part of town where most people want to be but it was just where I needed to be. I moved to Chicago when I was 18 and a freshman in college. I had visited for one weekend and fell in love with the city. I don’t know how to explain it but I just knew I had to be there - it just felt right. When I started school, I didn’t know a single person. The good thing about going to school for a sport was that I had instant friends with the people on the team. Since tennis is really more of an individual sport, it was really my first time experiencing this whole team thing. The best part was that our coach was the head coach for both the men’s and the women’s teams and we spent a lot of time with them so that meant double the friends. I had never really been exposed to people from different Spanish speaking countries but the team was full of people from all over the world including Ecuador, Colombia and Spain. I can’t even put into words how awesome it was to be part of that group and just bonding with them simply because we could speak Spanish. These are now some of my best friends after all of these years.

I remember hearing them speak Spanish with their different accents and I felt so confused because I was certain I knew how to speak Spanish but I was having so much trouble understanding them. I remember jokingly having the argument with them about which country spoke the prettiest Spanish. I think we all knew it that Colombians spoke the prettiest Spanish but we would never admit that. They introduced me to their music and traditions and we went to restaurants to try their type of food. There was just something so special and wholesome about the cultural exchange that happened so organically. And for that, I am so grateful.

This is going to sound so silly but when I go to concerts of latin artists, they always have a part of the show where they shout out all the different latin countries. Obviously I scream at the top of my lungs when they shout out Mexico but I feel a sense of pride and happiness when I hear the Colombians and Ecuadorians, etc. These people became my family and despite the ups and the downs, I know that I could call them at any point in time and they would be there for me, just like I would for them.

I’ve worked really hard to be able to feel a sense of pride to be Mexican. For so many years, the political climate did not really harbor a very positive environment for Mexicans to be openly proud of being Mexican. I’m trying hard not to get too political here but it’s hard because that has certainly played a factor. Though I have never really felt personally attacked, it has not been nice to witness. Also, for so long I struggled with the thought if not feeling Mexican enough. I have a good friend that says I’m “pocha” and it makes me so mad - probably because it’s so true.

But I’ve worked very hard to try to accept myself and understand that this is just a product of my environment growing up. I didn’t have a choice to move to Kentucky and when I did move, I worked so hard to get rid of my Mexican accent. It’s hard to keep both accents aligned to their respective languages, particularly if I don’t speak one of them all the time.

I used to hate this part about me but I’ve kind of learned to love it. I have a group chat with a Mexican friend and a Venezuelan friend and we all obviously know how to speak Spanish but a lot of times we start speaking in English in there until one of the three is like wait why are we speaking English? I’m really lazy though because I’ve gotten to a point where because I have so many more Spanish-speaking friends now, I’m using my Spanish a lot more than before but now it’s hard to finish a sentence only using one language. I’m the queen of Spanglish and I used to hate it but how bad ass that I can speak two languages?

I actually wish that I could speak Spanish more. It would be a dream to live in a more latin-influenced American city like somewhere in California or Miami, or even back to Chicago but my ultimate dream is to move back to Mexico. Because my dad’s side of the family was in Ciudad Juarez and my mom’s side of the family lived there for some time too, I didn’t really spend a ton of time exploring traditional Mexican cities like Mexico City, Guadalajara, etc. I mean we did live in Mexico when I was a little baby but I don’t even remember what I had for breakfast today, much less what it was like when I lived there. I feel like moving back to Mexico is part of my future at some point and I honestly hope it happens. I can’t explain the feeling when I’m there. When I get off the plane and walk into the airport and see everything in Spanish. It all just feels so familiar and right. Not to mention that Mexico City has some of the best restaurants in the freaking world. #MexicoCityMarnie is a vibe and I hope that she gets her moment eventually.

I loved my ex-boyfriend and if I’m being completely honest, I still do. I learned so much from him and our relationship and honestly after the breakup, I feel like I’ve grown up so much. One of the biggest realizations that I had was that I love my culture and I don’t really envision raising my future kids in New York and ideally not in The States. I want to be with someone that not only accepts but understands where I came from and has had a similar upbringing and that’s something I never ever cared about before. I want to be with someone that speaks Spanish and loves Bad Bunny in their own right, not just because they know I love it. I don’t know if that makes sense but it does in my head. So I’m not sure what the future holds but I do know that I will try to embrace my heritage as much as I possibly can.

Lastly, I want to say thank you. I’m not that easy to become friends with because I make it hard for people to get to know me, but to the people that have stuck around and gotten to know me, thank you. Thank you for letting me be myself. Thanks for putting up with my spicy Latina attitude, and for listening to countless hours of Bad Bunny with me. Thanks for taking trips to Mexico with me and embracing my culture. Thanks for celebrating Cinco de Mayo even though we turn it into Cinco de Marnie. Thanks for celebrating Mexican Independence day with me even though most people think it’s on Cinco de Mayo. While the world may not be so kind and welcoming, you guys have helped me be comfortable with sharing who I am and where I come from and you have allowed me to freely keep exploring that and keep evolving. I love you guys.

Remember that just because someone is different compared to you or they have different customs and traditions than yours, it doesn’t make them “weird”, it just makes them different. Please keep an open mind, you might surprise yourself.

Until next week —

xx marn