My Favorite People
...happen to be twins.
Somehow it’s February already and one of my subscribers—my coworker Seta, who says my name in that pretty Spanish way—called me out for not posting since December. She sits right next to me, so I had no choice but to try to explain why I’ve been absent.
I started talking, then stopped, then started again. How to explain that I’m processing? And sometimes, that means hiding a little bit.
Seta is calm, serene, patient. She’s also a creative who understands the ups and downs of creating something from nothing. She stood by silently, attentively, until I could make sense of it. After going in circles, I said something to the effect of:
“I want to write a memoir. I want to write about being Latina, working in beauty, growing up first generation American, in New York City. I want to write funny stories that also have heart and show the struggle and the triumphs of my experience. I don’t want to write an advice column; I’m wise but I don’t want to be the next Oprah. I want to reflect and learn and grow and if I made someone laugh and think via my storytelling, then I’m good.”
She sipped from her pink mug and smiled and said, “Then do that.”
Sometimes you need a reminder of your purpose.
In the same week, I got a DM from a social friend. She’s a mom to two beautiful little girls. She also sings with one of Latin culture’s biggest superstars. She tours the world with him and is well-known enough to have fan accounts dedicated to her.
“Love your relationship with your two loves,” she wrote. “It’s soooo cute. How did you maintain this as they grew older?”
Wow. Another question that made me stop and think. Most people know me for my experience in the beauty industry, but everyone knows me for my obsession with my twins. I’m talking obsessed in its truest form. I talk about them nonstop, post about them unapologetically, and squeal at them as if they were toddlers.
They haven’t been toddlers in more than 20 years.
I stare at their perfect faces and hair and skin and think, wow, we made them (with a little help from a higher power). I love their laughs, their sly sense of humor, their creativity, their perspective. Being around them means that I’m in for a good time. If I wasn’t their mother and we met at work, I’d be hanging outside their office trying to befriend them.
Brandon and Grace are the best part of me.
I thought about this question for several days. I wanted to give her a real answer, which got me thinking about memoir structure. Because if a memoir is focused on one slice of your life, how do I articulate how motherhood influenced my career and my POV on culture without getting too “mommy blogger” or self-help-y?
Here’s one thought: Being a mother focused my career in clear, sharp ways. I wanted to help create a world where they felt seen and celebrated. I wanted to be present for every dance recital and baseball game. I wanted impromptu snuggles and intricate bedtime rituals. I wanted to sit on their bedroom floor and listen to their day. As they matured, I wanted to march into those same rooms (now decorated to their preteen tastes) and get the latest bochinche brewing in their friend groups.
I did that. I continue doing that. I just dance-walked to Grace’s room. Beyonce was playing, my hips started swirling, you get the picture. She smiled and said, “Wow, some good moves there.” Who else does this for me?! No one.
I’ll figure it out. I always do.
Before I go, I want to ask my subscribers—all 20-something of you, lol—what you’d like to read more about. Behold, my first poll.
The babies!