Lifestyle: In Practice

I don’t write about a singular wound—I write about a thousand paper cuts that never healed. My stories aren’t just art, they’re survival. I write as rebellion, as therapy, as proof that I’ve lived through every heartbreak, identity crisis, and invisible moment. Writing is where I get to be soft, angry, Dominican, and divine—all at once.

I’m not overreacting, you’ve just never experienced a Dominican mother’s anger with a chancleta before. The precision in the throw, the sting in the hit. I want to be soft and cared for, but also strong and grounded. I’m not angry, I’m Dominican. I’m not loud, I’m Dominican. This isn’t just rage—it’s memory, it’s inherited fire, it’s love, it’s survival. This is my softness and my rebellion, all in one breath.