Latinx Heritage Month: #FemmeInMourning 20

When I landed in Puerto Rico I went directly to the ocean. I sat at the water and spoke to my mother. I walked through the seaweedy water until it was up to my chest and I lifted my feet and let myself float.

I was weightless.

I chose the ocean as my lover. Who else could make me feel weightless during the shock and trauma of the cellular disconnection on the planet? I felt held and protected. Home.

I've always felt this way but this time felt more urgent and grounding in the reality and knowing that this open ocean water is always home and always loving me. Going to the ocean is a coping mechanism for me. It has always been. Something about going to place where each bead of sand and the vastness of the ocean is a reminder you are something smaller in a massive planet yet your shine is bright.


Read post 19 here.