There is an urge to share my story – yet an urge to share just enough. You see, I am just shaking off the fear that is attached to my identity. I am an undocumented person living in the United States and thanks to DACA, I am able to shake the fear off (temporarily). It feels as though I can comfortably explore. Yes, I have limited myself and it has usually been because of my lack of knowledge. It wasn’t because I wasn’t looking for it, I was simply too afraid to even ask. It’s been fear. It’s true what they say…people fear what they don’t know, and I didn’t know a lot. Actually, I am still learning. But now I feel I am moving forward, really enjoying my life for what it’s worth. A life of beauty!

My story is not uncommon, there many like me that have been or are in my situation. Perhaps in better or worse circumstances, but to them I say, “You are not alone and si se suede! No te rindas.”

I came to the US as a 3 year old with my parents – the journey has long slipped my mind, but my mother shares that I was a chatter box, questioning where we were and where we were going all along the way. I had no idea my life was about to change. I vaguely remember Mexico. I mostly remember smells and tastes of food and the air. What I see are snap shots in my head. Like my Abuelitas house in Guadalajara. I think it was yellow? or orange? maybe a mix of the both.

Coming to California was probably the best thing my parents could of decided on. I am eternally grateful to them for their sacrifice. And like every other child brought to this country as a baby or young child, finding your identity, your place in this mad world can range any where from easy to difficult. So follow me on my journey – the worse thing that can happen is I find my identity early and this blog comes to an end. The best thing that can happen is that I find my identity and I keep raving on about it. Either way…this should be fun.