Two Worlds, One Family

Hello again, lovely readers ❤️

First of all, thank you so much for reading my previous post on Prince 🕊💜✨️ There’s plenty more to come on lessons I’ve learned from him, but in this post, I wanted to pick up on something I touched on last time — how Prince inspires me as the eldest daughter of an immigrant family.

📝 Heads-up: This is a two-part post where I’ll be sharing some of the personal experiences that shaped my journey into pursuing a creative career — while also navigating the quiet, complex responsibility that often comes with being the eldest daughter in an immigrant household.

A Memory Carved in Animation and Sound

My family brought me to the States from Guerrero, Mexico. I have absolutely no memory of my eight months of life in Mexico, despite my parents asking me if I remember all these strangers who held me as an infant.

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My earliest memories were of watching the Latin Spanish version of Disney’s Tarzan. I LOVED that movie. I was probably two years old, and even then, I knew Phil Collins didn’t have to go that hard on the soundtrack — but he did for us ❤️‍🔥

And Glen Keane’s animation??

Sublime.

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My little human brain was entranced by what I watching 

“How can I tell what these pictures are feeling?”

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I know they say Mozart is good for brain development, but idk 🤷🏼‍♀️ I think Phil Collins launched my toddler brain light years ahead into decades of neuroscience discovery 🛸 

I was obsessed with the title track — the percussion?? 🤯

Two Worlds, One Family.

It did honestly feel like I came from a completely different world than my parents, who were raised in Southern Mexico between the 70s and 90s.

Growing Up Between Two Worlds

As you may see, this memory is very special to me. And yes, I do cherish the memories of my favorite childhood movies and toys — because I think it’s clear evidence that my parents did try to give me the freedom to enjoy being a kid.

I cherish these early memories of my favorite childhood movies and toys because I believe they’re a clear sign that my parents tried to give me the freedom to enjoy being a kid.

The childhood my parents experienced was completely different from mine.

My dad was brought up without any maternal influence in what he describes as a strict, disciplinarian, machista household. It’s clear he was raised to adopt certain misogynistic beliefs about women — beliefs that, unfortunately, shaped how he related to the world and to me.

My mom, on the other hand, grew up in what sounds like a much more secluded community in Guerrero. She had no concept of God until she was thirteen, which was also around the time she was finally allowed to begin any form of schooling. Before that, my grandfather forced her and her sisters to begin working from a very young age.

Both of my parents experienced multiple brutal forms of discipline and aggression early in their lives. Their understanding of love, responsibility, and emotional connection was shaped by systems that prioritized survival over tenderness.

Wrapped in Love, Even When It Was Unspoken

Despite having so little — and carrying years of unprocessed grief — my parents and grandparents did absolutely everything to ensure I entered the world with warmth, comfort, and beauty.

When I was born, I was wrapped in soft, colorful blankets. My clothes were carefully chosen — bright, delicate, lovingly prepared.

Sometimes I wonder how my mom felt dressing me in those vibrant colors. Maybe it was her way of giving me what she never had — the freedom to express beauty without fear.

She grew up in a place where wearing colorful clothes could make you vulnerable. Where something as simple as joyfully dressing yourself could provoke envy, judgment, or worse — attract dangerous attention. There were people who saw beauty as an invitation, or as something to control, shame, or strip away.

But when she dressed me, it was different. Maybe, in those little acts of care, she was saying:

“I want your world to be softer. Safer. I want you to be seen — not punished for being seen.”

My Dad the Chef

My parents had no idea how they would raise me—but I would like to think they hoped I would never feel a lack of joy.

My dad was fortunate to land a job as a chef in a restaurant located in a luxurious part of Arizona. I have quite a few memories of accompanying him to work. I always felt so proud of him and his profession.

I was so completely mesmerized by the glowing lights of the polished storefronts I saw around the restaurant.

Absolutely no concept of my dad’s value on the social hierarchy — all I knew was that I was thrilled to go with him to work, wearing a new dress my mom picked out for me.

I may have low-key thought I was the princess of the restaurant 😆

God, Glamour, and Guardian Angels

So as you can see, my early life was being shaped in a vastly different way — full of abundance, music, imagination, and a touch of glamour.

Lastly, I want to return to something I mentioned earlier: my mom had no concept of God until she was thirteen. 

I was introduced to God almost immediately after I was born. I was baptized at one and consciously aware of a higher power at three. Every night, I was taught to pray — first to my guardian angel, then for myself, my family, and the world outside of me.

To recap, in just a few short years of life, I had already been exposed to the concept of divine protection, the fire talent of Phil Collins 🔥, and emotional resonance even if it was just through animation.

These weren’t just surface-level experiences.

They were forming the roots of something much deeper — my sensitivity, my creativity, and my understanding that feelings, beauty, and belief mattered.

What’s to Come in Part 2

In part 2, I'll share how this sharp contrast between my upbringing and that of my parents began to unfold — and how I eventually had to navigate unspoken expectations, long-held grief, and a household where emotional expression often felt unsafe unless it served a purpose.

And just so you know……

I was the one who asked to be an older sister 😆😆😆

Thank You for Reading 💌

Thank you for taking a moment to read a bit about my creative origin story 🥰

Wherever you are in the world, I hope your day or night feels soft, safe, and filled with beauty.

With love,

Daydreaming Muse 🥀