Not all families are born. Some are made by love, by choice, by showing up when it matters.

This Pride, I’m shouting out the ones who didn’t have to save me... but did anyway.

You didn’t have to. But you did.
And that’s everything.

Happy Pride Month!

This episode is a Letter to My Past Self.

This isn’t just a letter. It’s a reckoning.

To the child who hid.
To the teen who prayed to be “fixed.”
To the soul who survived silence, shame, and still chose to stay. This one’s for you.

You were never too much. You were always divine.

This Pride, we don’t just celebrate. We remember who we had to be to make it here.

They’ll call you selfish the moment you stop abandoning yourself for them.
But they never called you selfless when it was killing you.

Let them be mad.
You’re allowed to choose peace.
You’re allowed to fucking matter.

And no, you don’t need a reason!

This is your Permission to Be Selfish.

We always talk about change, but not the wreckage left behind from the shift.

The shift is ugly, but it’s where growth begins. And sometimes, it’s the only choice.

For the ones who burned it all down, how do you rebuild when the pieces don’t fit anymore? Let me know in the comments.

You can change. You can heal. But you can’t rewrite the pain you caused.

We talk about survival. We talk about growth. But we don’t talk about the wreckage we left behind on our way to becoming better people.

We romanticize redemption, but healing when you were the one who broke them? That’s a different kind of hell. The shame. The silence. The guilt that lingers long after the apology.

This is for the ones who were loved through the storm and set fire to it anyway. For the ones who hurt the softest hearts because they didn’t know how to hold them. For the ones learning to live with what they can’t undo.

The past may be done, but the damage echoes. Are you brave enough to face it?

Took a sip of my own medicine.
Rested. Recharged. Ready to run my mouth again!

March was for my mind, my man, my people, and most of all, me.
The mic was off, but the growth was loud.

I'm back baby! Episodes kick back up next week!
Hope you missed me. 💛

They try to bleach the bloodline, but the Black will never leave.

Black culture is part of our latinidad! We move to the rhythms, speak in the cadences, season our food with the history itself. But when it comes to claiming our Blackness? We hesitate. We deny. We erase.

We’ve been taught to call ourselves Indio, trigueño, mestizo, anything but what we are. But no matter how much we run from it, history runs THROUGH us. The curls, the melanin, the ancestors. Still here!

The lie may be loud, but the truth is louder. Are you ready to hear it?

Happy Black History Month!

They tried to bury the rhythm, but it never stopped beating.

The Rhythm That Remains is a story of Harlem’s pulse, Langston Hughes, Black resilience, and the echoes of a fight that never ended.

The struggle may have changed its tune, but the song still plays. Are you listening?