Done Being the Dutiful One™
Intimate Assumptions™
“Intimate Assumptions™” sound like the language of false closeness —
the lies spoken like truths,
the silence mistaken for peace,
and the value of your voice constantly measured against what you should be to others.
Welcome to the House of Riddles y Mentiras. 🤥
This is where I grew up — 🏠 + 🤥 + 🌋 = 💥
This was never really a home or a haven —
just a house, and a haunted riddle,
where truth went missing and lies dressed up like tíos, tías, and abuelos.
Really, we’re related to all the Puerto Ricans. 🇵🇷
Um, yes but no.
Big-time setup for Intimate Assumptions™ of the worst kind.
“Familiar = sameness.”
What a joke.
It means some more of the same childhood connections. Bad news.
I didn’t even think to speak my truth —
I was taught that survival meant being useful, quiet, 🤐 busy, invisible, 🫥
and handling adult responsibilities I had no business or skills to carry out.
I was a kid, yo.
Why did they keep having babies? Y’all ain’t raising them!
By 7 I’m tired —
little did I know in 10 years I would be giving birth to my own child.
💩 was everywhere.
Brutality a daily guest — yup I’m talking about Bruno (aka shame, denial, family secret, and my favorite: betrayal).
Like, “¿Quieres desayuno con tu trauma?”
WTF.
Come on, man.
This is way too much for a bunch of non-English-speaking kids growing up in Chicago in the late ‘60s up to the ‘80s.
This is hard to hear. Try living it.
The fact that I’m still here — never externally jailed is a MIRACLE 🔒 —
My prisons were and still are emotional, mental, spiritual, and financial.
Nevertheless, I am learning to be real with myself and others —
a journey I’ve been on for 30 years and will continue until my dying day.
And so here it is:
Me, you, and my truth.
Now, as a grandparent,
I hear the next generation getting spoon-fed the same lies 🥄
and I ask, ¿Por qué?
Why are we still passing this basura down like it’s a family heirloom? 🚮
As a teacher, I hear students swear they’ll “do better” than their parents 🧑🧑🧒🧒
but we know:
that karmic hand-me-down energy is sneaky AF.
Talk about enmeshment. 🎣
They’ll recreate the same drama unless —
⚡️they start breaking bad
(no, not like Walter White —
like breaking cycles, breaking silence,
breaking open the ancestral vault).
Healing isn’t cute.
It’s work.
It starts with telling the truth —
even the messy, shame-covered parts — especially those.
So yeah.
This isn’t about money or voice.
It’s about value —
and reclaiming mine
one raw, ridiculous, radiant truth at a time.
This is ancestral debt that speaks fluent duality:
“I’m fine” vs “I’m falling apart.”
“I’m successful” vs “I’m suffocating.”
“I’m safe” vs “I can’t speak.”
🧬 This is what it carries:
• Terror = inherited fear around safety, voice, and resourcefulness.
• Bewilderment = confusion about self-worth. “Do I have value if I don’t perform?”
• Frustration = the tension between what we say and what we suppress.
• Despair = the echo of unmet needs turned into silence, sarcasm, or survival talk.
🎶 I honestly love you:
You and I can love someone — and hold them accountable.
You and I can love someone — and admit when we’ve caused the pain.
You and I can stay rooted in the now —
and be the rupture that becomes the repair.
“Ancestors, I see what y’all survived. Thanks.” 🙏🏼
The Now-Living™
Healing with people who are still breathing…
and still calling you m’ija while gaslighting you in real time.
Yeah. That part. 😅
He’s not lighting sage and whispering affirmations.
He’s pulling up receipts. 🧾
He’s bringing proof.
Don’t lie — I have documented truth ready to go.
Mic drop pending. 🎤💥
He’s the one who says something off,
and you feel your whole inner child go:
“Again? Really?!” 😤
But instead of shrinking, you pause…
and say, NO!
“Eso no me sirve ya.”
(That doesn’t serve me anymore.)
Sometimes, healing looks like you leaving the room early…
without guilt,
without explaining,
and without taking leftovers. 👜✨
Hasta la vista baby,
que será será. 🎶
Descendants, I’m cleaning what y’all shouldn’t have to carry.™ 🧼
“Intimate Assumptions™” sound like the language of false closeness —
the lies spoken like truths,
the silence mistaken for peace,
and the value of your voice constantly measured against what you should be to others.
Welcome to the House of Riddles y Mentiras. 🤥
This is where I grew up — 🏠 + 🤥 + 🌋 = 💥
This was never really a home or a haven —
just a house, and a haunted riddle,
where truth went missing and lies dressed up like tíos, tías, and abuelos.
Really, we’re related to all the Puerto Ricans. 🇵🇷
Um, yes but no.
Big-time setup for Intimate Assumptions™ of the worst kind.
“Familiar = sameness.”
What a joke.
It means some more of the same childhood connections. Bad news.
I didn’t even think to speak my truth —
I was taught that survival meant being useful, quiet, 🤐 busy, invisible, 🫥
and handling adult responsibilities I had no business or skills to carry out.
I was a kid, yo.
Why did they keep having babies? Y’all ain’t raising them!
By 7 I’m tired —
little did I know in 10 years I would be giving birth to my own child.
💩 was everywhere.
Brutality a daily guest — yup I’m talking about Bruno (aka shame, denial, family secret, and my favorite: betrayal).
Like, “¿Quieres desayuno con tu trauma?”
WTF.
Come on, man.
This is way too much for a bunch of non-English-speaking kids growing up in Chicago in the late ‘60s up to the ‘80s.
This is hard to hear. Try living it.
The fact that I’m still here — never externally jailed is a MIRACLE 🔒 —
My prisons were and still are emotional, mental, spiritual, and financial.
Nevertheless, I am learning to be real with myself and others —
a journey I’ve been on for 30 years and will continue until my dying day.
And so here it is:
Me, you, and my truth.
Now, as a grandparent,
I hear the next generation getting spoon-fed the same lies 🥄
and I ask, ¿Por qué?
Why are we still passing this basura down like it’s a family heirloom? 🚮
As a teacher, I hear students swear they’ll “do better” than their parents 🧑🧑🧒🧒
but we know:
that karmic hand-me-down energy is sneaky AF.
Talk about enmeshment. 🎣
They’ll recreate the same drama unless —
⚡️they start breaking bad
(no, not like Walter White —
like breaking cycles, breaking silence,
breaking open the ancestral vault).
Healing isn’t cute.
It’s work.
It starts with telling the truth —
even the messy, shame-covered parts — especially those.
So yeah.
This isn’t about money or voice.
It’s about value —
and reclaiming mine
one raw, ridiculous, radiant truth at a time.
This is ancestral debt that speaks fluent duality:
“I’m fine” vs “I’m falling apart.”
“I’m successful” vs “I’m suffocating.”
“I’m safe” vs “I can’t speak.”
🧬 This is what it carries:
• Terror = inherited fear around safety, voice, and resourcefulness.
• Bewilderment = confusion about self-worth. “Do I have value if I don’t perform?”
• Frustration = the tension between what we say and what we suppress.
• Despair = the echo of unmet needs turned into silence, sarcasm, or survival talk.
🎶 I honestly love you:
You and I can love someone — and hold them accountable.
You and I can love someone — and admit when we’ve caused the pain.
You and I can stay rooted in the now —
and be the rupture that becomes the repair.
“Ancestors, I see what y’all survived. Thanks.” 🙏🏼
The Now-Living™
Healing with people who are still breathing…
and still calling you m’ija while gaslighting you in real time.
Yeah. That part. 😅
He’s not lighting sage and whispering affirmations.
He’s pulling up receipts. 🧾
He’s bringing proof.
Don’t lie — I have documented truth ready to go.
Mic drop pending. 🎤💥
He’s the one who says something off,
and you feel your whole inner child go:
“Again? Really?!” 😤
But instead of shrinking, you pause…
and say, NO!
“Eso no me sirve ya.”
(That doesn’t serve me anymore.)
Sometimes, healing looks like you leaving the room early…
without guilt,
without explaining,
and without taking leftovers. 👜✨
Hasta la vista baby,
que será será. 🎶
Descendants, I’m cleaning what y’all shouldn’t have to carry.™ 🧼
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