note to self.

Advice I would give to the girl I was before:
 
when the kids tease you for having big bushy eyebrows
do not pluck them
do not shave the uni-brow that’s barely even there
those girls now draw in theirs  
those boys wish they grew hair on their face as fast as yours does
your eyebrows will get better.
 
when the kids in school tease you for your name
do not shorten it
do not assimilate to a culture that took yours to begin with
your name tells a story of who you are
in Spanish it means “consolation”
taken from the title of the Virgin Mary, Nuestra Señora de Consuelo
Our Lady of Consolation
La Morena,
dark like the women who came before you
you are your grandmother’s legacy
 
when you fall in love with the first boy to show you kindness
do not cry when he dates your best friend
do not shut off your heart after one heart break
you will fall in love over and over and over again
each one a new story
you are a writer
tell boys not to fall in love with YOU because you’ll make them your muse
tell them to consume you at their own risk
because you will write about them so good they won’t even know where to hurt
each time you fall in love it’s like riding a bike for the first time
your knees will have scars and bruises
telling the stories of each time you fell for someone new
 
when you stand in front of a mirror and over-analyze every inch of your body
do not curse the stretch marks on your stomach
do not pinch at the excess skin
do not scowl at the cellulite on your thighs
hug yourself
you will grow into all of this
it isn’t perfect but you love your body now
you’ve started wearing dresses
cute ones, I may add, and shorts
you use your thighs to bring your hands warmth during the cold
and use them to hug a boy’s hips
 
when your start to become antisocial and get social anxiety
hug yourself
take a deep breath
do not fear others eyes on you
do not resist opening up to others
soon you will be standing on a stage
your lips spilling truth and hurt
you will be an open book
broken spine, ripped pages and all but someone will want to pick you up and read you
soon, you will the one in charge, not your depression
 
when the boy on the bus locks eyes with you for the first time,
resist asking for his name and number later on that day
do not try to decipher something in his messages that isn’t even there
you are not the CIA
and his texts are not poetry for you analyze
 
when you fall in love with this boy
do not tell him
 
when you tell him you love him
and he tells you he can’t be with you because he’s not ready for a girlfriend,
walk away
 
when he soon after gets a girlfriend,
do not waste tears, or ink, or paper on this boy
stop being stubborn,
listen to your friends and walk away
 
when you do begin to write about him,
do not let him read it
there will be others who appreciate your words more than he will later on
 
when you show him your writing,
do not be embarrassed
you are a writer
you confess your love as many times as possible
it is what you do
do not stop writing because of this boy
if he couldn’t understand the metaphors in your writing
he wouldn’t have understood you anyways
 
when your friends have boyfriends and already have had their first kiss
do not hate yourself
do not ask what is wrong with you
do not write poems about being forever alone
do not crave the simplicity of holding someone’s hand
someone will hold you differently
and you love solitude
your lover will be a pen and paper
and spoiler alert:
your first kiss will come and it will be nothing like you expected
it won’t be with your boyfriend or a boy you love
but special all in the same
 
when your longtime friend hits you up to hang out
do not turn him down
it may be the last time you see him
 
when you go to his funeral
it’s okay if you don’t want to go see him
it’s okay if the only memory you want to have left of him is of his lively pink cheeks
and a mouth that still smiles
hug yourself
then hug your friends,
tell them that you love them
it’s okay if you hold on a little tighter than usual
grip onto your rosary and do not be afraid to let God in even if it’s just that night
you are in the church you grew up in
you haven’t been there in years
and it’s ironic how the one time you show up to church
it isn’t because mom forced you or for a quinceanera
do not feel guilty when you realize you never said goodbye to him
you aren’t good at saying that to anyone
some people find it rude how you walk away without saying a word
that’s because it’s so much easier to say “hello” than letting go
 

About the Poem

My piece Note to Self is a piece that I wrote with the intention of giving advice to my younger self. There were a lot of times where I’ve felt out of place when I was younger and still up until the end of my high school senior year, I felt like I wasn’t good enough compared to my peers. I still felt like a child—felt like I was falling behind in life, felt unsure about what I had ahead of me and overall had regret and resentment for the way I treated myself and others.

​When I wrote this poem I was reflecting on my feelings during that time and reflecting on how far I had come since then. This poem isn’t just for me but for anyone who can relate to what I went through. It is a reminder to myself and to my readers that we are enough, that we are beings that are constantly changing and evolving, and to not hold regret in our hearts for things that happened in the past.

CLICK: Why We Chose It

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Bio

Consuelo Martinez is graduating from PCC in the Spring  with an AA in Humanities and AA-T in English, transferring to UCLA as an English and Chicanx Studies double major, and hopes to become an educator in the future either at the high school or community college level.