Mami, and the Mothers Who Made Us

Across the wild and whispering corners of the earth, Mother Nature teaches her children how to live.

The bear nudges her cubs from the den, teaching them strength with her stillness.
The eagle, high in her cliffside nest, teaches her young to leap — knowing they must fall before they fly.
The elephant walks miles with her calf, never leaving its side, passing down memories as ancient as the land itself.

In every form, across every species, mothers shape the soul of the world — not by control or guilt, but by love, by empowerment, by preparing their young to exist fully, fiercely, and freely.

In my life, that force has a name: Mami.

& Just like the confusion of Mother Nature, her ways aren’t always easy to love—but in every storm and stillness, she guides me. Whether intentional or not, she is always teaching.

She was the first healer I ever knew. Long before I trained my hands in massage, she welcomed them — when I was una niña chiquita (a little girl), i loved to massage her. She would always say, “You should do massage.”
I waited until the moment felt right. But the seed was already planted — by her hands, her trust, her vision.

Mami taught me what it means to be a wombyn — to honor my sacredness, my body and to own both my bodymind.

When the world was unkind and I was bullied as youth, she gave me something to hold onto. “They’re jealous,” she’d say. “They’re insecure. They’re suffering.” She didn’t teach me to fight fire with fire. She taught me to see beyond the wound — to understand, and not take it on.
She taught me to hold my head up high. And Now I teach the value of "No Me Joda";) as that is my interpretation lol

She loves, loves, loves to cook and says: “Don’t cook when you’re upset, so you don’t feed others with bitterness.” And don't eat bitter people's food. I learned energy in food.

She taught me to follow my path.
She taught me the value of Integrity.
She taught me how to provide for myself, to be independent and self sufficient.
She taught me to care deeply. Not performatively — but fully. So when I show you tenderness, when I make you food with joy, when I place my hands on you with care and presence — that is her in me.

That was her wisdom — sacred and everyday.

She is still here. She has always been here.
And even when she is not physically with me, I carry her — in my hands, in my rituals, in the way I love and nourish and protect.

Like Mother Nature herself, Mami taught me how to live.
To care.
To offer what is real.
To remain sacred, even in a world that sometimes forgets what sacred means.

Gracias, Mami.
You are the root, the rhythm, the river.
You are the whisper of the earth that says: Live with purpose, love with honesty, and always carry your roots with you.