TO THE MIJA WITHIN
Words by Mariana Cid De León Ovalle | Artwork by Ivanna Medina
For years you’ve danced among the Ocean swells, chasing them down so you could ride one ashore. Sometimes, you’d make it back safely. Other times you’d get pulled under and find yourself clawing at something you’d never be able to grasp.
In some ways, you became addicted to the give and take. Even though the thrill and joy were fleeting, unpredictable, and could very well end in a wipeout, you still yearned for them. Because at least they were something.
For years you’ve been ashamed of the anger and resentment you carry in your chest, so you shoved it down in hopes that it would make you stronger, but all it did was chip away at your life force. All it did was weigh you down.
Don’t get me wrong. I am so proud of how brave you’ve been through all your traumas. Every time the tides washed you ashore, you got back up. You kept pushing for something else, for something more.
You’ve struggled to accept that your feelings are valid, and you’ve battled with co-dependency for many years. So, I’m sure it’s quite shocking to learn that true freedom can be found in the swells of your chest, in the curve of your hips, in the strength of your lips, and in the resilience of your womb, from where life has literally sprung.
You are the tide, my sweet girl.
You are the waves as they kiss the shore, as they fiercely crash against the rocks, as it stills in the dead of night.
Love is not a passing wave along the shore—it’s the Ocean itself, vast, ever-present, and nourishing. It demands respect with ease
and confidence. It does not apologize for existing, and neither should you.
Because not only are you the waves but the Ocean, too.
Because you are love, and love is you.
