I think of my life and memories as an ocean: serene and still or rough and rigid. But in the end it’s always beautiful and breath-taking. Some of my memories warm me up from the inside. But they also tear me apart. Unfortunately, the memories that teared me apart are the best I can remember.
My childhood memories, when I look back at them, are filled with resentment and bitterness. The first few memories, I was spent with strangers. Strangers my parents paid to be our care-givers. Some of this strangers were kind and compassionate, some were troubled and negligent. My dad received so much help due to the circumstances in his country. I remember an instance when my community gave us a helping-hand.
They helped us fix our trailer and built a playhouse for myself. I hold that memory to heart. I was told I was lucky. Lucky because I had sisters in Honduras that didn’t have the same commodities as I did. Then, my parents decided that our family back in Honduras would take care of us more efficiently. In 2004, my youngest sister and I were sent back to Honduras.
I envisioned a world of fairies and palaces. That’s how my parents described it anyways. I laugh a little when I think of my arrival there. It smelled like a pig farm! It was like civilization went back to a hundred years ago. I was not prepared to what came next: the abandonment of my parents. I spent four years in Honduras without my parents, where my innocence was rubbed and I grew up resentful.
Violence and chaos filled my eyes: stories that circulated to maintain everyone at bay. I always lived in feared. To top it all, I was constantly sick and malnourished. And the worse of all: I learned about my oldest sister mental abused by mother. Some part of me decide to ignore tha. .
ontrol my ability. I was all alone in my high school journey. No sisters to guide me, no parents to be involved in my education. I had to juggle school, sports, and work. Instead of being resentful, I focused all my energy into school. There’s days when I think I can’t do it all, but I am my own personal motivator.
I battled with the demons of my past and with the suppression of my parents. I was stuck with not doing anything. It’s something I never admit to anyone, but I battle with feeling like a broken person. But life is like a mirror, if you smile at it will smile back. That’s my personal motto. My strength is that every day I try to be optimistic.
Even if everything in my life falling apart, I think of my future and my goals. I think of all the people that believe in me, and I keep climbing through obstacles. The more obstacles I overcome, the stronger I become.
