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Birthday suit

Simply grateful; today is May 20, and I woke up to see my 46th birthday! After the last two years we’ve had, and the bout of COVID I’ve overcome, I am truly grateful to be alive. I’ve said my prayers, made my favorite breakfast- salmon frittata. It is hard to contain the excitement of hopping on a flight to Medellin, Colombia to celebrate my birthday. Furthermore, today I officially launch this blog!

I head back upstairs to my room and decide- what to wear? As I enter my closet, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. Something seems different. Sure, I’m 46 today and aging is certainly beginning to take its course. However, that’s not it though. The reflection and I stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, like Clint Eastwood in a Western movie standoff.

Aha! That’s it! The mirror reflects every dimple of my cellulite ridden thighs, gravity pulling, graying curly hair and the map of freckles on my face. Yet, the mirror cannot reflect the person deep within my soul. A mirror has limited abilities, therefore not reflecting the true essence of one’s existence. Let me tell you, I am proud of the woman I see in the reflection today. That was not always the case.

I’ve had high highs, low lows, my heart has been broken before, I’ve hit setbacks, I made wrong turns that drove straight into dead ends. The woman I was at 25 and even 35 is long gone. The insecurities, fears, apprehension, inferiority, doubts are no longer crippling or stunting my growth.

Today, I stand before the mirror in my birthday suit. To the woman in the mirror, I applaud you! You’ve persevered, even when you thought you could take no more. In hindsight, I recognize, everything or anyone that did not work out was truly for my good. God has a way of teaching us lessons!

In birthday suit transparency, I held off launching this blog for two years. I had some doubts about launching “another” blog to the masses. I thought, “there are thousands of bloggers and blogs out there. They don’t need another one. Why would anyone read mine? I’m too old for this.” Yet, in those quiet moments of solitude, away from the noise, I hear it clearly in my Spirit. “They don’t have YOUR blog. You have a voice. You have gifts, a story to tell, and purpose. Stop procrastinating. Let’s Go!”

Like the mirror, everyone sees what you appear to be, yet, few experience the essence of who you really are. This blog is created to share my life with you in full transparency. To share my ups and downs, the stuff that people often hide. Today, at 46, I am free to be me. I’ve learned that if you live by people’s acceptance, you’ll die by their rejection. Therefore, this may or may not be for everyone; and I’m at peace with that.

I’ll invite you into my home, share some thought provoking truths, travel escapades, fashion picks, travel hacks, and certainly challenge you at times. As an Afro Latina, my mission is to advance the African Diaspora by sharing cultural stories, educational insights and experiences!  Sharing the world through the lens of Afro-Latin culture, hence, bridging the gap amongst African descendants in the Americas!!

Today, I celebrate a new chapter in life, and the official launch of this blog platform. I am glad you’re here. Buckle up, we’re going places!!

Xo,

Sandra Yvonne

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Solo never alone

Solo, but never alone.

Hey Sandra, next time you travel take me a long with you! Oh man I didn’t get an invite? Aren’t you afraid? I could never do that! I have anxiety. I don’t like being alone….

I’m sure that you’ve either heard the above mentioned, or made the comments yourself. It’s ok, this is a safe place, a judgement free zone! Personally, I’ve heard every single one of these comments made by people watching my travels by the sidelines.

As a single mother, I treasured my escapes such as taking a day to myself and spending it poolside or at the beach… and I liked it! I fell in love with quality time to myself. Those escapes turned into full day trips, then weekend trips throughout Florida on a full tank of gas.

From there, my comfort level and curiosity grew to take full blown 3-4 day trips to Washington DC, The Big Apple, Savanah, and more. My longest solo trip was to Portugal where I spent two weeks solo exploring the country. I’ll tell more on another post.

The drive or airplane trip was just as exciting to me. There’s something about enjoying your own  company and appreciation for solitude. At the beach, the soothing sounds of the wave as the breeze brushed my cheeks, or ice skating in Central Park just brought the inner child out of me.

Everywhere I go, I made a friend. It never fails. Either the waitress at the diner by the beach, the lady who invited me to dinner at her place, my seat mate on the airplane, other people taking the same tour, and now, people I’ve connected with on social media!

Speaking of social media, there are countless travel groups available on Facebook to subscribe to for free! Such groups have been a wealth of information for me. I’ve made countless connections with locals, individuals abroad, and expats alike. I’ve even traveled with people I had never met in person. The possibilities are endless. The representation of Melanated and Hispanic travelers we can learn from are vast. I happen to be a single one out of thousands out there!

Go ahead, start today. You never know the lifetime friend or even lifetime partner you’ll encounter.

Solo traveler, but never alone,

San

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Sorta kinda

Here you are, too foreign for back home. Too foreign for here. Not enough for both. At the age of 10 my family moved to Miami, FL from Puerto Rico. Talk about a culture shock? My new dilemma at that age was figuring where do I fit in? Too much for a 10 year old to navigate. I did not speak English whatsoever. I was Sorta Latina, but my complexion was “too dark” for the Cuban Americans in my school. Even though we could communicate and speak Spanish, I did not belong. I was no good for their kind.

Kinda Black. My Dad is Black Puerto Rican, as is my family back in Puerto Rico. The term Afro Latino had not yet emerged. In my attempt to figure out this new dynamic, I started to make friends with the Black kids instead. The majority were truly welcoming- even though we could not communicate due to the language barrier. Until the day that a ring leader – bully started to make my life miserable by calling me a light skin-ded (just as she pronounced it) halfbreed. I did not even know what that meant.

Rewind for a moment. This new experience was not isolated to strangers. Prior to moving to Florida, my Mom,  brothers and I spent the summer in Texas with my Mom’s Mexican family. Even then, we did not belong. My siblings and I were darker than our cousins, our hair was much thicker, we spoke Spanish, they did not. Therefore, we were not welcomed by our Mexican American cousins. Kids play- but we were ridiculed and treated like “The Help.”

Here I am, a 10 year old child in fifth grade tumbling in the weeds of identity. I did not realize it then. Nonetheless, I was constantly in a state of existing, but never belonging. Talk about eternal imposter syndrome?

Within six months of moving to Miami I learned English. I was fluent enough to get by. I learned English phonetically which awarded me the official “Akeelah” award of the spelling bee.

Maybe. Just maybe, this phase is behind me, so I thought! Truth is, it was not. It was the year I entered 6th grade, middle school, that I decided I am made to stand out and not fit in. My new mindset as a 6th grader did not mitigate the hurt nor exile from both the Latino or Black kids, but I assure you, I walked with my head held high.

It was then, I learned, I am enough!

You. Are. Too!

Xo,San