A BLEND OF THE TWO
Being Raised By Two Women
Story Cynthia Cruz // Art by Wesley Vara

I stole a little from each of them to make myself. I was raised by two women. My father has never been in my life, not even before I was born. I have never missed or noticed his absence because he has never been there. Instead his sister, my Aunt, took his role right by my mom's side. They both witnessed me being born. She gave me my name. She has been there through everything. They both have; at different times, but there.

I would never change my upbringing if I had the chance. I could say that this was a gift because I was able to experience two different personalities. Sensitivity to ruthlessness, cautiousness to fearlessness but with one thing in common; these two women demonstrated to me how to be a strong woman that can triumph over anything.

The thing that I most recall about my birth mother Silvia is the look she gives me when I get one of my spontaneous ideas. All of my life she allowed me to make my own mistakes and learn from them and I would not have it any other way. So now when I get an idea I just go with it, not needing any approval. When I said “Voy a comprar un boleto de avion para ir Arizona a visitar a mi novio” (I'm buying a flight ticket to go to Arizona to visit my boyfriend), I definitely got the look and a headshake. It was probably because I was only 16 at the time.  

I see my mother as a student of life, learning something with every experience and day that comes. I can actually say that we are raising each other. We learn from each other and grow together; she shares my passion for learning and knowledge. Her compassion embraces anything alive on this earth and she humbles herself in every sense. You can always see that in her facial expressions, harmless and exuding with friendliness. Skin so clean, soft and scarless can only be dreamed of along with her Marilyn Monroe beauty mark right above her upper lip that goes perfectly in sync with the larger one on her left cheekbone. With almost any type of emotion, her brown eyes begin to pour tears. Her small feet carry and take every step with such caution. She is always the one asking questions in the front desks of the very first row in class, dreaming up creative ways to make her next project.  

My woman warrior is my second mother, Maria “la guera.”   Everyone knows her as “la guera” (blond) because she was born with light skin and light hair and since then kept it up. When her hair started to darken, she quickly dyed and streaked it. I guess that was her way of standing out.   Sometimes her almost perfect light hair still takes me back along with her glowing soft light complexion, eyes that behold all the wisdom that I wish to someday obtain and lips as plump as the season's best fruit that come to form a smile that I can only be jealous of. Her beauty is remarkable for her age, which nobody really knows -- not even her son. She refuses to tell anyone, it's her secret. She once told me that a book could be written about her life. She is the strongest woman that I will ever know with a mouth to back it up that is not censored in any aspect. With no grudges in her heart is how she faced a family that turned their back on her during the most important years of her life. Her gift to make people laugh is unforgettable along with her typical Mexican sayings like “Ves! La gente no nomas habla por hablar,” which is the “I told you so” in English. I see her as the fearless medal winner of an obstacle course because she has finally finished. She is only sitting back now enjoying the benefits that sometimes have little complications getting to her but nothing compared to what she had to go through.  

I often struggle with feelings in the way I want to come off to other people. I find this to be hard because I learned such opposing traits from two different personalities. When I am hurt by a person in my life that I care for, I don't know whether to cry or swallow that pain in my throat and remain strong. Later, I debate if I should forgive that someone and keep them in my life because they are someone that I once cared for or shut them out and keep a cautious distance because they have hurt me. When it comes to meeting new people I struggle because I don't want them to know that I cry when I watch suffering animals on the animal channel that have been abandoned, because they might learn that I am often vulnerable to what people say because I believe that good people still exist. I don't want them to know that if I try hard enough I can sometimes ignore my feelings and shut somebody completely out of my life because I am extremely careful with my feelings and I can turn myself cold to the people around me. I often find myself regretting things that I didn't think before saying to someone or kicking myself in the butt for not standing up or simply saying what was actually on my mind.

With the years I have become more at peace with what I learned or picked up. I don't think so much about my reactions anymore, I just go with my instinct because my instinct is me, not my mind thinking of what would be right to do. Sometimes I cry when I am being challenged, other times I become expressionless and look intimidating to push my idea ahead. Now I try to put myself out there in regards to relationships, with a curious and fearless kind of mind frame but still I take a step and hold on to something stable when I feel turbulence coming. I am not sure who I am more like, but I really don't want to know because of the fear that I favor one more than the other. I like to think that I am an equal blend of the two.  

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