On November 8th, 1519, Spaniards set foot in Tenochtitlán or what we know today as Mexico City. ⁣ ⁣ Being birthed on this day is an annual reminder of how I came to be, and all the shapes love, pain and trust have had to take for mestizes to be here today. ⁣ ⁣ Since Spanish arrival, 20-25 generations or roughly over 2000 of my family’s direct ancestors have endured, rebuilt, laughed, cried, created new customs, preserved old ones, cared, cooked, sang and danced. ⁣ ⁣ When feeling the deep weight of all the life I’ve watched pass by so other people could be comfortable, I remind myself that the mechanisms we use to feel and stay safe can be healed one generation at a time in even the smallest acts and truths we claim.⁣ ⁣ To all my friends who are still finding their way between cultures, between languages, between religions, between families, between worlds ~ you are becoming the ancestor that chose to preserve what mattered and nurture what needed to be new. ⁣ ⁣ 🤎