Author: AnnaLisa

I am not ashamed to be Mexican anymore.  Before you criticize that statement, let me open your eyes as to what my first few years of school were like.

I vividly remember being made fun of by kids when I was younger.  My face, colored brown when my peers would make drawings of each other yet my skin tone was no darker than theirs. Jokes would be tossed around from student to student about me and I tried my darndest to not let it phase me, yet it affected me more than I would like to admit.  There was a long period where I was ashamed of my culture; of where my ancestors immigrated from.  My dad would play music in Spanish and I would cover my ears or complain until he shut it off as if I was better than what was being played.  I was born in Minneapolis, Minnesota but that was not “American enough” for my peers.

When I was in grade school, I remember going to visit family members in Mexico and anxiously awaiting getting to be around people that were “like me.”  A day or two into us being there I remember walking into a room and seeing my mom visibly upset because comments were being made, criticizing the fact that her children were Mexican but unable to speak Spanish.  It was that very moment where I felt that I was not “Mexican enough” for some of my extended family despite the fact that we shared the same bloodlines.

This leads me to the topic of conversation; being Mexican-American is pretty damn exhausting.

Anyone close to me knows my love for all things Selena Quintanilla; the movie, her music, her gorgeous locks.  Although she unfortunately passed at a young age, she left a legacy.  One that many Mexican-Americans look up to still to this day.  There is a part in the movie ‘Selena,’ a tribute to the life of Selena Quintanilla, that perfectly sums up the life of a Mexican-American.  A video I strongly encourage anyone reading this article to spend two minutes watching ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUZ5Yhwzz80 ).

“You have to be more Mexican than the Mexicans and more American than the Americans both at the same time.  It’s exhausting.”  This could not be more true.  I have come to the realization that merely checking a box to indicate my race or ethnicity,  does not define me.  There is, in fact, no single tangible trait that all Hispanics possess except perhaps a common origin and language.  The same can be said about Americans.

I refuse to let individuals determine my limitations as I strive to define myself and my role within this world on my own terms.  Being classified as a minority, specifically a Mexican-American is something that I will forever take great pride in.  Culture itself is beautiful and is an essential part of who I am today.  I am proud to call myself a Latina, but I am also proud to be American.

For many years I based my self-worth off of a number of friends I had on Facebook and the number of likes I was getting on various posts. Around two years ago, that all changed. 

I do not have time to keep up with everything in today’s world.  In fact, any spare moment I have goes to cleaning up the aftermath of my son’s “creativity,” daily chores, and a quick shower when I get the chance.  What “Sarah,” who I probably have not spoken a word to in a few years, did over her weekend, does not entertain me anymore.  

Before I come off as somewhat snooty, let me explain.  

My world is consumed with my own life….I love it.  Being a mom is incredibly challenging but with every laugh, milestone, and entertaining moment I feel more and more full.  Because of this, I always want to share him with the world via social media.  My world that is.  

We have these individuals on social media yet we see them at the grocery store, ball games, community events and they walk past us as if they do not know us.  So why allow these individuals in our lives?  Why allow them a front row seat at your daily life, when you can’t even give me a genuine hello?

As more and more individuals became aware of me expecting my first child, a number of friend requests I received on social media was substantial.  Over the course of a few months, there were 67 friend requests.  All of which were people I either barely knew or haven’t spoken to in a very long time.  It was then that I realized, my mindset on social media had to change.  

Over the course of the next two years, I slowly began deleting people. Faded friendships, community members I barely knew, and random people I probably had never met were some of the first to go.  

Some people took it personally. Which when confronted about why I removed them, I always assured the individual that it was absolutely nothing personal.  I simply want to have a more private social media account.  It was a choice I am more than happy to have made.   

I have 289 Facebook friends and I am most certain that will continue to fluctuate as I see fit.  So no, my son’s goofy picture probably will not hit 100 likes and my opinion on how terrible of a president Trump is probably will not reach thousands of people, but I rest easy at night knowing that my self-worth is not defined by Facebook, my confidence is not reassured by a number of likes I obtain on a photo, and I now have more control of who I share my daily life with.   

Everyone is allowed to do as they please in every aspect of their life.  I have simply chosen to share mine with people who take an interest, with individuals who acknowledge me, my family, and those who have consistently stood by my side.