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Survival has a cost. Sometimes that cost is emotional. Sometimes it is physical. And sometimes, it is financial. There came a point in my life when I realized that getting through hardship was only part of the journey. I also had to learn how to support myself, create stability, and build a life without the guidance or foundation I needed. I was young. I was alone in ways that are hard to explain. And I was trying to make adult decisions while carrying pain I had not yet full

There are seasons in life that change you completely. For me, one of those seasons began when I became a domestic violence survivor and had to leave everything behind. Starting over was not a choice I wanted to make, but it became the path I had to take in order to survive. I was left with almost nothing but my car and eight hundred dollars to my name. Starting over was not new to me. I had already lived through that when I left Ecuador as a child, not by choice, and had to l

Querida Mami, Today, I find myself thinking of you with even more tenderness. I think of your strength, your sacrifice, your love, and the many ways you shaped my life, even in moments I did not fully understand at the time. Mi madre, la Dra. Mercedes Maria Paz Mendoza, was a hardworking woman. You were a single mother who did the best you could with what you had. You made our gifts with your own hands. You were an incredible cook, a public school teacher at an all-girls scho

There are some things we wear because they are beautiful. And then there are things we wear because they carry a story. The hat much of the world knows as the “Panama hat” is one of them. Despite its famous name, its story begins in Ecuador—with natural fibers, skilled hands, generations of knowledge, and families who have preserved a craft that has become part of our cultural identity. For me, this story is also deeply personal. As I continue on my own journey of digging dee

National Hispanic Heritage Month | September 15 – October 15 Hispanic Heritage Month has a different meaning for me this year. Normally, this month invites us to celebrate. Our music. Our food. Our languages. Our countries. Our traditions. Our accomplishments. And I will celebrate all of those things. But this year, celebration alone does not feel like enough. As immigration policies continue to change and immigration enforcement has intensified across the United States, I fi

September 11, 2001, is remembered as a day that changed our nation. We watched in disbelief as lives were lost, families were forever changed, and a sense of security many had taken for granted suddenly disappeared. It was a tragedy we experienced collectively, but its impact was deeply personal. Some people lost loved ones that morning. Some ran toward danger to help. Others watched from homes, schools, offices, military installations, and countries around the world, trying

Photo by Jeevan Portraits July is Disability Pride Month, and before I understood advocacy as a word, I was already living it as a mother. I was raising two daughters as a single mother, doing my best to provide, protect, and prepare them for a world that does not always understand difference. Both of my daughters would face their own challenges. Both would be given labels. And both would prove that a diagnosis may describe part of your journey, but it does not define who you

A 4th of July Reflection on Service, Resilience, and the American Dream Life has a way of humbling us. It is easy to walk away, remain silent, and pretend certain events never happened. It is easy to protect our peace by looking away from the things that feel too heavy to carry. But I strongly believe that God’s plan, though trying at times, has a way of bringing out the best in us in His time. Sometimes, the very seasons that test us are the same seasons that reveal who we a

A Father’s Day reflection on men’s mental health, healing, and breaking patterns Gentle Note: This reflection speaks about Father’s Day, men’s mental health, healing, and the impact of abuse. Please read with care and honor what you need emotionally. Father’s Day can be beautiful for many people. For others, it can be complicated. It can bring up love, gratitude, grief, absence, disappointment, and pain. For me, speaking about fatherhood is not always easy. I did not grow up

After 23 and a half years of federal service, I have seen many changes. I have served through transitions, leadership changes, reorganizations, new priorities, and difficult seasons. I understand that change is part of public service. But I have never seen anything like this. This season feels different. Heavier. More personal. More painful. At the beginning of this year, I wrote about the changes I was seeing across federal service. And yes, I saw the signs. I saw the uncert

I came to this country as a child — too young to fully understand everything I was leaving behind. I did not know the language. I only knew the world that had shaped me: my culture, my family, my home in Ecuador, and the rhythms of a childhood that already lived deep within me. Then, suddenly, everything changed. I was no longer waking up to the sound of the 5 a.m. rooster. No longer waking up to my grandmother’s café con leche and bolón. No longer breathing in mornings that

Some parts of our story do not fully make sense until we are older. As children, we live through moments without always understanding their meaning. We feel the change, the distance, the tension, and even the sadness, but we do not yet have the words to explain what those experiences will come to mean in our lives. I was only 9 years old when my mother made one of the hardest decisions of her life. She could no longer care for me, and with courage and love, she sent me to liv

Memorial Day carries a different weight when you have worn the uniform. For some, it marks the beginning of summer. For others, it is a day set aside for remembrance. But for those who have served, and for the families who continue to carry the absence of those who did not return, it holds a quieter, deeper kind of meaning. It holds memory. I served during 9/11 - Operation Enduring Freedom, in a time that changed the course of so many lives. At the time, my first daughter was

On National High Heel Day, I find myself reflecting on something that, for me, has always meant more than fashion. A pair of heels can seem simple from the outside. A style choice. A finishing touch. A detail added before walking out the door. But sometimes, the smallest details carry the deepest meaning. For me, high heels have represented confidence, transition, femininity, presence, and the quiet power of becoming. I grew up watching my mother wear high heels. There was so

A Reflection on Depression, Resilience, and Becoming A gentle note: This reflection discusses depression, suicide attempts, and healing. Please read with care. As someone who struggles with depression daily, I want to reflect on this subject with honesty, care, and purpose. My hope is that by sharing part of my story, someone else may feel seen, encouraged, and reminded that their life still holds meaning. Depression is not always visible. It does not always appear as silence

Mother’s Day invites us to reflect on more than flowers, cards, and celebration. It invites us to remember the women who shaped us, the sacrifices we witnessed, the love we received, and the legacy we continue to carry. There are legacies we inherit through words, and there are legacies we inherit through watching. We watch how our mothers move through life. How they carry responsibility. How they sacrifice quietly. How they keep going when the world does not pause for their

Public service has never been just a job to me. It is a commitment. A responsibility. A calling to contribute to something larger than yourself. This Public Service Recognition Week, I have been reflecting on what it means to serve, especially in a time when many public servants are carrying uncertainty, change, and the weight of difficult transitions. In the current environment, where conversations around workforce reductions and restructuring have deeply affected so many, I

Photo by Jeevan Portraits For a long time, I wrestled with the idea that I needed to pick a lane. Professionally, there is often pressure to define yourself by one specialty, one title, or one clear path. The message can feel subtle or direct: become known for one thing, stay in your lane, and build credibility through depth alone. But I have never fully fit into that kind of box. I am naturally curious. I enjoy learning. I adapt quickly, and I have found that I can thrive in

I have lived through enough change to know that tools evolve, and when they do, the way we live, work, and create evolves with them. I remember when the internet first became part of everyday life. I remember when Google changed how we searched for information. I remember when we no longer had to rely only on vinyl records, cassette tapes, or CDs to enjoy music. Over time, we moved from physical albums to downloads, and now to platforms that give us access to almost anything

There are seasons in life that change us. Some arrive quietly. Others come through loss, disappointment, heartbreak, uncertainty, or the deep realization that the life we imagined is no longer the life we are living. In those moments, we are often faced with a choice: remain where we are, or begin again. GiMeZu was born from that place of beginning again. It was created from a journey of reflection, resilience, healing, and hope. A journey of learning that rebuilding is not w