My papa used to call my ma Hermosa.

The day I was brought to the world the first words everyone said was how Hermosa I was.

While everything I thought in life was Hermosa.

Life was not always Hermosa.

Life is pain, struggle, confusion, and sometimes a kick in the ass.

The toughest part of living, is what makes you apart of it.

I was only a kid. Barely knowing how to do my times tables, before my mother and father used to not fight a lot. My pa took me to parks.

The duck pond with the sunny ray sky hitting the ground and the windy green trees. It was raining one day in that bright Hermosa day. The type of rain where it was glistening. An Hermosa colorful rainbow formed. All colors, red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple.

“Que Hermoso arcoíris”

I agreed.

I wanted to be as beautiful as a rainbow…

Life is confusing.

As I grew up puberty came. It was not very Hermosa. I started growing hair, acne in my face and back, and my heart changing. I did not know what to feel.

Everything my mother tells me when I explain to her how I feel about certain people and certain beliefs she just stared at me like if I was talking a pesky bug.

I did not feel Hermosa.

“Mamá, ¿qué tiene de malo ser amiga de los chicos? Son solo mis amigos”

My mom hated men. Kinda. She didn’t hate them she just didn’t trust them.

She would be so annoyed I would be around guys.

She would say how men only try to be friends with you so they can get into your pants. Didn’t matter if you were ugly or pretty. The only thing they found Hermosa was their own pleasure.

I once found a girl friend eventually though.

She had beautiful autumn eyes, platinum blonde hair, vivid dark brown freckles, and a petite body.

Everyone in class would call her Hermosa.

Though many of the other Hermosa girls bat an eye on her.

Being Hermosa is a consequence and a blessing.

Though, hanging out with her everywhere we go, hearing her delicate hyper feminine voice. Made it easy to tell she made it a blessing.

Girl friend? Or girl-friend. She was a friend who was a girl, but I wanted more as a friend.

Though my parents would never approve.

Two big reasons.

One, she was a female.

Obvious predicament, was that my parents were extremely homophobic because of the culture they grew up in.

Two, she was white.

While it sounds judgmental, friends and family would definitely say some comments about how I would be recolonized.

Though one thing about life that is great, is that it ends.

I did not care what others thought.

I wanted the Hermosa girl to my girl.

You know what’s more beautiful than a rainbow.

Is finding out who you are in life.

I can finally call myself Hermosa.