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Reviews: Bookmarked
Dominican Girls Don't Do Minimalism
My gold hoops sing louder than my voice when I’m told to be quiet. They clink in church, shimmer on the subway, and carry my mother’s legacy through every loop and shine. Dominican girls don’t do minimalism—we layer colors, fabrics, laughter, and history. Where others see chaos, we see home. I am my island’s treasure, loud and golden, taking up space because that’s what Dominican women were born to do.
Grace Sofia
Oct 24, 20253 min read
Dominicana, Even When I Dream in English
Spanish lives in my hellos and goodbyes, in domino games with my tíos, in memories of piña coladas and mangú. I was the girl who stopped speaking Spanish at five, who traded merengue for iced coffee and skyscrapers, but still sneaks bachata into her cleaning playlists. Between two worlds, I write my rebellion in Spanglish. I am still Dominicana, even when I dream in English.
Sofia Villafaña
Oct 21, 20253 min read
Pain as Performance
Women are forced to perform — in pain, in love, in how we exist. We are expected to cry beautifully, to suffer gracefully, to turn heartbreak into something marketable. Our pain becomes performance, our struggle becomes art, and our silence becomes survival. Society doesn’t value women until we’re gone, yet demands we endure everything with poise. “Pain as Performance” is a manifesto on how femininity is packaged, sold, and sanctified through suffering.
María Del Mal
Oct 17, 20252 min read
Dominican Rain Feels Different
Rain in New York smells like wet garbage and melted metal, rising off the pavement in waves of heat and noise. But Dominican rain—ay, that’s different. It’s holy and feral, a slap and a kiss at once. It cools the body, blesses the skin, hums against red clay rooftops like prayer. Kids splash barefoot, unbothered, while the island exhales. There, rain isn’t ruin. It’s reminder. It’s mercy. It’s home.
Grace Sofia
Oct 14, 20251 min read
Hair Like a Prayer
There is something sacred about doing my hair. For years I fought my curls, straightened and burned them into silence. Now, every wash, mask, and diffuser pass feels like prayer—scrubbing away trauma, sealing in love, and watching my curls rise again. This ritual is more than routine; it’s devotion, survival, and a reclaiming of beauty once shamed. My hair is no longer something to tame—it’s a freedom I bless daily.
Grace Sofia
Oct 10, 20253 min read
When Faith Betrayed Me
Faith betrayed me in the silence of prayer. I begged for my father’s laugh to return, for color to rise back in his face, but nothing changed. The man who once carried me on his shoulders could barely carry himself across the room. Later, faith betrayed me again with my grandmother—once a warrior, now fading, her love stronger than her memory. I learned faith doesn’t always protect the strong; sometimes it strips them away piece by piece.
Sofia Villafaña
Oct 7, 20253 min read
Loving Someone in Spanglish
In Loving Someone in Spanglish, Grace Sofia explores how love carries memory—songs sung by mothers and abuelas, healing rituals of gargara and VaporRub, recipes passed down through kitchens, and kisses once dodged but now given freely. To love in Spanglish is to weave English and Spanish, New York and the Dominican Republic, childhood and adulthood—tender fragments that reveal care in every gesture.
Grace Sofia
Oct 3, 20253 min read
My Body is Not a Battleground
My body is not a battleground, though it carries scars both visible and hidden. It’s marked by ink, trauma, and survival, yet it remains mine—breathing, enduring, beautiful. Each scar tells a story of pain, resilience, and transformation. What was stolen, broken, and bled into the past now lives as a layered canvas of survival. My body is both ruin and rebirth, a reminder that I kept going, and I chose to keep it mine.
Sofia Villafaña
Sep 28, 20253 min read
What Happens When Women Refuse to Behave
Beautiful things happen when women refuse to behave. When they protest, leave, say no, and choose themselves first, the world shifts. Men are praised for the bare minimum, while women are expected to be mothers, superheroes, caretakers, and silent. Misbehaving is survival—it’s rebellion, autonomy, and choice. When women misbehave, daughters and granddaughters inherit bravery, freedom, and the right to be unapologetically themselves.
María Del Mal
Sep 23, 20253 min read
Romanticizing My Life After the Breakup
I recently suffered one of the worst breakups of my life—a friend breakup. After years of support, the rug was pulled out from under me. I had to make my life worth waking up to without part of my support system. I dispose of everything tied to them, donate it to mark the end. I create a playlist, cry, then delete it. I reclaim my space, invest in my future, and go on solo dates. And in writing a goodbye letter, I release the pain and learn from it.
Grace Sofia
Aug 15, 20253 min read
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