Bonitas,
Many years ago, a college classmate told me that when I spoke English, he couldn’t notice my foreign accent. He didn’t even realize that his “compliment” broke me into twenty pieces and was as a source of inspiration for me to think about who I was.
I remember that at that moment, in addition to recovering my accent on purpose, I began a serious reflection on my identity. I visited the static elements that no human being can escape from and felt a deep gratitude.
I was fortunate to have very young parents who, without realizing, broke patterns of education at all times. I was born in Colombia, a war-torn country that gave me the obsession for peace. I came into the world in the month with the most holidays of the year, and in which the most important soccer championships are played. I was born white, and not poor nor well-off. My birth certificate identified me as a woman and, over time, I confirmed that my sex matched my gender. The latter characteristics surely spared me the pains of growing up in a country that was racist, elitist, unequal and not very welcoming to diversity.
Then I encountered more variable elements and the occasional existential question. The cities I lived in, the trips I took, the friends I chose, the conversations that marked a before and after, my profession, theological questioning, my family’s political background and, of course, my eternal desire to be a mom, among many other traits I wanted to be defined by.
Today, as you are in the first stage of building your identity, I feel an enormous responsibility to transport you to your roots through my letters. To introduce you to those who made and still make them possible, to take you to the places that transformed me, to tell you about the present that you may not remember in a few years, to explain the reasoning behind the books you read and the music you listen to in the background, to inspire you to adopt some of my beliefs and follow the people who should guide the steps of any human being who wants to be relevant and contribute to today’s world.
I wish with all my heart that when you’re old and wrinkled, you’ll look back with the pride of having built an identity and a personal story that contributed to change the world.
When the time comes, take and discard my letters as you please. You are the owners of your life and who you want to be.
I love you,
