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creative_destruction

A Part of Me

Houston, United States

One of the things I have always told myself is that I am not just one thing. I feel like in this society, we as people tend to put labels on people, condensing them into these tiny boxes. I never liked that, I never understood it because we are constantly changing, constantly learning things about ourselves. It is human to evolve. We are a universe of secrets. I am more than one thing. But with that being said...I do like to label myself as an artist. I was undoubtedly created to create. That is my life motto and I will keep it until the day I die. Whether it's filming, dancing, writing stories and poetry, drawing, or taking pictures, I am always creating. I do not think I could ever stop. But unfortunately, there was a moment in my life where I did not create. I wanted to be a marine biologist actually. I loved animals, especially marine animals. I still love animals but when my sister and my nephew disappeared from my life, that wanting of being a marine biologist went away. I blamed myself. They are deaf while the rest of my family is hearing, which meant that the relationships she had with us were not the same as her deaf community. It was a toxic situation and my family wanted to get them out but my sister did not feel heard. She felt babied and she felt like we did not understand her. And she was right, I never really took the time to learn the language. I did not have as strong of a connection with her as I should have had and I blamed myself wholeheartedly for it. I thought that maybe if I had took the time to get to know her as a person through her language, maybe that could have made all the difference. I have never felt so worthless in a situation. I felt so empty. We got her and my nephew back but, it still bothered me. So down I went into this deep well of emotions that I did not understand at the time. I could not find any thing to hold onto. It was dark, haunting, and echoed all of the nasty words that ran through my head. I was alone. Until I found a pen. With that pen, I wrote what I felt. With that pen, I drew monsters, heroes, villains, whatever I wanted. All of those emotions were tumbling out of me in a way that helped me heal. It had its ups and downs. At one point, writing and drawing weren’t enough. I still felt this ache in my stomach. I wanted it to go away so I started moving my body. I started teaching myself how to dance. I gravitated towards hip hop because it was harsh but fluid. It was hard hitting and a release of anger, sadness, and fear. It was like this dragon was sleeping inside of me for years until finally, it woke up and breathed this spark of passion within me. I kept it hidden for a while, especially in high school. It was my little secret. I wasn’t the loudest kid. That’s when the label “loner” became to be the word to describe me. But I kept my head down, made good grades, stayed close to my two best friends, created my art, and tried to be the perfect little Christian girl all my teachers asked for. At my parochial school, I realized two things. You did not matter unless you were outgoing and played sports. And if you didn’t sit back and listen to what they told you, you were an outsider. We were told what was right and wrong, not how to think for ourselves. We were not meant to question religion, just accept. I hated it deep down, but I did what I was told. I didn’t think my school was too bad, but when a gay male was kicked out for posting videos on YouTube about his sexuality, my feelings about my school changed. From then on, my eyes were opened. I saw the misogyny, xenophobia, racism, and prejudice all too well. But I kept my head down, those empty feelings came back and so I created. I ended up directing my own play, which was the light at the end of the tunnel. I was almost…happy. Then all of sudden, it was time for me to go to college. I was asked to choose which art style I wanted to succeed in. I did not want to choose. I wanted to succeed in all. That is when I found the camera. I realized that you could captured anything in a camera. I could tell stories in a camera. I could dance in front of the camera and create characters that fight the bad guys. I could use all of the skills I had and in return create something bigger than I ever could have imagined. So now, I am in college. I met some good people, I am creating, and I will continue to create. But I am not yet completely happy. I will not be happy until I make my own production company with shows talking about representation of all races, genders, sexualities, and mental illnesses in a positive, entertaining, and educational way. That is my goal. Until then, I will keep learning about my craft and evolving as a person. And learn ASL along the way. You know, I used to hate the color yellow, but Van Gogh showed me its potential. To me, it has become a color that represents a sad, hopeful kind of happiness. I am still so far from being who I want to be, but I will get there. I will.

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A Part of Me

Nov 12, 2018 5 years ago

One of the things I have always told myself is that I am not just one thing. I feel like in this society, we as people tend to put labels on people, condensing them into these tiny boxes. I never liked that, I never understood it because we are constantly changing, constantly learning things about ourselves. It is human to evolve. We are a universe of secrets. I am more than one thing. But with that being said...I do like to label myself as an artist. I was undoubtedly created to create. That is my life motto and I will keep it until the day I die. Whether it's filming, dancing, writing stories and poetry, drawing, or taking pictures, I am always creating. I do not think I could ever stop. But unfortunately, there was a moment in my life where I did not create. I wanted to be a marine biologist actually. I loved animals, especially marine animals. I still love animals but when my sister and my nephew disappeared from my life, that wanting of being a marine biologist went away. I blamed myself. They are deaf while the rest of my family is hearing, which meant that the relationships they had with us were not the same as their deaf community. It was a toxic situation and my family wanted to get them out but my sister did not feel heard. She felt babied and she felt like we did not understand her. And she was right, I never really took the time to learn the language. I did not have as strong of a connection with her as I should have had and I blamed myself wholeheartedly for it. I thought that maybe if I had took the time to get to know her as a person through her language, maybe that could have made all the difference. I have never felt so worthless in a situation. I felt so empty. We got her and my nephew back but, it still bothered me. So down I went into this deep well of emotions that I did not understand at the time. I could not find any thing to hold onto. It was dark, haunting, and echoed all of the nasty words that ran through my head. I was alone. Until I found a pen. With that pen, I wrote what I felt. With that pen, I drew monsters, heroes, villains, whatever I wanted. All of those emotions were tumbling out of me in a way that helped me heal. It had its ups and downs. At one point, writing and drawing weren't enough. I still felt this ache in my stomach. I wanted it to go away so I started moving my body. I started teaching myself how to dance. I gravitated towards hip hop because it was harsh but fluid. It was hard hitting and a release of anger, sadness, and fear. It was like this dragon was sleeping inside of me for years until finally, it woke up and breathed this spark of passion within me. I kept it hidden for a while, especially in high school. It was my little secret. I wasn't the loudest kid. That's when the label “loner” became to be the word to describe me. But I kept my head down, made good grades, stayed close to my two best friends, created my art, and tried to be the perfect little Christian girl all of my teachers asked for. At my parochial school, I realized two things. You did not matter unless you were outgoing and played sports. And if you didn't sit back and listen to what they told you, you were an outsider. We were told what was right and wrong, not how to think for ourselves. We were not meant to question religion, just accept. I hated it deep down, but I did what I was told. I didn't think my school was too bad, but when a gay male was kicked out for posting videos on YouTube about his sexuality, my feelings about my school changed. From then on, my eyes were opened. I saw the misogyny, xenophobia, racism, and prejudice all too well. But I kept my head down, those empty feelings came back and so I created. I ended up directing my own play, which was the light at the end of the tunnel. I was almost…happy. Then all of sudden, it was time for me to go to college. I was asked to choose which art style I wanted to succeed in. I did not want to choose. I wanted to succeed in all. That is when I found the camera. I realized that you could captured anything in a camera. I could tell stories in a camera. I could dance in front of the camera and create characters that fought the bad guys. I could use all of the skills I had and in return create something bigger than I ever could have imagined. So now, I am in college. I met some good people, I am creating, and I will continue to create. But I am not yet completely happy. I will not be happy until I make my own production company with shows talking about representation of all races, genders, sexualities, and mental illnesses in a positive, entertaining, and educational way. That is my goal. Until then, I will keep learning about my craft and evolving as a person. And learn ASL along the way. You know, I used to hate the color yellow, but Van Gogh showed me its potential. To me, it has become a color that represents a sad, hopeful kind of happiness. I am still so far from being who I want to be, but I will get there with time. I will.

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