Fighting My Demons
From a young age, I learned the value of hard work. Before I even turned ten, I was already carrying lunches to workers, collecting cardboard and glass bottles, and assembling boxes for packaging at a place called La Cartonería. These experiences shaped my character and my perspective on the world. But they also left me with lingering questions—questions that have followed me throughout my life.
One question that has always haunted me is why some people beg on the streets when, in my ignorance, I believe they could work. I say ignorance because I now understand that every individual carries an unseen battle—an internal war filled with triumphs and defeats. Unfortunately, these mental barriers often prevent people from seeing opportunities, keeping them trapped in a cycle of survival rather than growth.
Over the years, I’ve met many people caught in this limbo—unable to see a way forward simply because they were never shown that other paths exist. This conditioning limits their perspective, making them feel as if there is no escape. In truth, we all experience this at some point. Life has a way of shaking us to our core, leaving us breathless, disoriented, and frozen in place, unsure of how to move forward.
Today, as immigration policies shift and uncertainty grows, I see my community paralyzed by fear. Many immigrants are returning to their home countries—not because they want to, but because they feel hunted, unsafe, and out of options. The weight of constant surveillance and persecution is breaking families apart, shattering dreams, and silencing hopes.
Recently, I came across a photo I took in Puerto Rico of a woman pretending to be disabled to beg for money on the streets. It struck me deeply because it reminded me of a time when I, too, felt trapped—unable to see a way forward, imprisoned by my own mind. I reflected on the struggles that so many immigrants face, driven by the dream of a better future in a land that often seems promising but can just as easily become a prison for the soul.
But here’s what I’ve come to realize: Failure is not failure. It is a lesson, a necessary experience that reminds us that no matter how many times we fall, we can always stand back up.
We are not meant to beg for survival. We are meant to build, to persevere, and to reclaim our power.
If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the real enemy is not outside—it is within us. Only when we choose to face our demons do we stop merely surviving and start truly living.