kid of immigrants
I’ve never felt like I fit in. My identity was split between two worlds, I was never American enough nor was I Mexican enough to fit in with either world. When you’re a kid of immigrants, you learn early on that you are different. I would speak Spanish at home and English out in the world.
The theme of living in between two worlds, in a liminal space has been a theme throughout my life. I’ve been primed with a dual identity. I am an American, with Mexican heritage who lives in Portugal. I am slowly shedding ties to my old life, and slowly building the foundation for the new life I am creating here.
I had to learn to be independent at a young age. What I considered independence, my parents understood as rebellious. I learned early that there were things I couldn't share with my parents because they wouldn't understand. As a wee babe, I was translating important documents, helping with taxes, writing emails for my parent’s business.. I HATED IT. They knew I hated it, I would throw fits and turn into a walking terror whenever they needed my help to write an email for them. This is still a thing, my dad is flying me out.. so I can do his taxes.. literally flying me out.. for something I could do online.
I didn’t understand the struggles my parents went through when they first moved to America in the late 1900’s. I honestly don’t know how they did it, I feel blessed to have the internet and Google Translate. My parents didn’t have any of that. They were out there poor and alone living in small spaces with multiple roommates. Without FaceTime to call home when they felt lonely, no connection to friends, or to the life they lived in the old country.
I admire my parent’s resiliency and their determination to make a new life and to be successful at it. They are living the American Dream, they are proof that it’s possible to achieve. I underestimated how strong they had to be and how difficult it was to live in a new place where you didn’t understand anything and were treated so poorly. Over 30 years in America and they speak minimal English, it is admirable really, it is kind of like a fuck you to the system, doubters, and haters.
I learned from my parents that family is the accessory and you are the main ‘fit. I am close to my family, and I love them so much. I am grateful they set the example that if I work hard, I can make a life anywhere. I am lucky to have their support, and to know they will always have my back no matter what. If tomorrow I decide I am over living in Lisbon, my dad would be more than happy to buy me a ticket home. I know he is hoping I decide to stay home anytime I visit.
My dad doesn’t understand why I moved here if America is the place where dreams happen. He is constantly pointing out the thousands of people on caravans trying to sneak through the border to pursue the American Dream. I am bad at opening up to them. They don’t know that I decided to build a website and to start writing. Like why didn’t I just move to Los Angeles or New York or Austin and try to be an actor or a comedian like a regular person. I took go big or stay home to heart.
I’ve never been a person who half asses anything. My first trip abroad was by myself and I was away for six weeks. I don’t just like things, I LOVE things, I find a new thing to like and I am consumed by it until I learn absolutely everything I can about it. I take myself so far out of my comfort zone that I sometimes feel crazy for pursuing the things I pursue. I don’t know if my parents are proud of me or if they think I am insane. All I know is that I am so proud and grateful for the sacrifices they made to allow me and my siblings the opportunity to live a better life.
