I used to joke about writing a memoirs. It was always a snarky comment I’d make at family gatherings as a way to convince myself that being jacked up on the inside was the result of years that comes with being a Latina.

All the emotional shenanigans, inner demons and dysfunctionalities had to be responsible for the corruption within my inner world.

To some extent it is but the story doesn’t end there. Life is a journey full of chapters that get to be overwritten with the turn of a page. If I was so emotionally invested in the history then the character of myself would never evolve into the heroine I know I can be.

I’ve been in therapy too many times. Each doing absolutely nothing except laying the foundation for my own personal development. Not to discredit the professionals who helped me understand personal responsibility, but each major transformational aha moment has been the result of me sitting alone confronting my inner voices as if my life depended on it…because it did, each and every time.

So yes I will credit the shrinks who have helped teach me how to fish so that I could harvest my own feast. At the same time, I have to give myself the credit for giving myself permission to do the work especially when it’s that easy to say fuck it and remain in the status quo.

I often wondered if I am wired differently. I am constantly surrounded by people who are not like me. This is a blessing as well as a curse. Differences allow us to grow and learn new things yet at the same, emotional isolation doesn’t do the spirit good.

While I am grateful for having friends and family in my life, some people are not that fortunate. It’s also a painful feeling to have so many people in your circle yet still feel like you’re out in the void by your lonesome.

I learned a few years ago the difference between alone and lonely and this is generally evident when I’m in some hormonal reflective mode. I blame my sun sign for being in the wrong place at the right time of my birth.

A few weeks sooner and I could have been a pure aloof Aquarius.

A few later and I could have embraced my truly selfish Aries nature.

Instead I carry the burden of conflicting emotions at any given day and time. While I love the introspection and daydreaming nature that comes with being a Pisces, sometimes I wish it wasn’t in my nature to live in that abyss especially on days when it’s pretty outside.

I saw a big ass butterfly today that wanted to make itself known to me. I don’t remember ever seeing a butterfly with a wing span that big and to see it flutter twice directly in front of me was all the sign I needed.

Days like today I’m reminded about the tattoo that’s very visible on my arm. I got it in Los Angeles when I was going through one of my phases and although this permanent reminder is in my view every single day, I often forget the symbolism that comes with transforming into a butterfly.

My journey to sanity is life long because I’ve reconciled with myself that I will always be searching for inner peace. I have an obsessive personality so when there’s chaos in the external world, I can’t just retreat into an ignorance bliss.

All that chaos comes with me and parks itself in my inner world. Then I’m tasked with trying to navigate both destructive worlds with a smile on my face as if all that madness wasn’t soul crushing. It is. But part of my journey is learning that I was built for this, otherwise it would not be part of my story.