My own Roots

I’m proud to be Indigenous. I will always be proud of it. But there’s an internal struggle I can’t ignore... can I embrace it fully, or would I risk passing down the same wounds I carry? This fear is why I don’t fully connect to my roots. I am afraid of what I’ll discover if I dig too deep.

My culture, my people, my heritage. They are all tangled with my mother, and my relationship with her is one of pain. She was abusive in every form... financially, mentally, physically, and in ways too heavy to write. For years, I absorbed her rage as though it was my duty, like I was built to hold the weight of her unresolved trauma. Beverly, my therapist, has been my lifeline—the place where I’ve learned to unravel those lies and believe that silence was never my only option.

Yet even with healing, I’m terrified of exploring the cultural side of my people because it feels like stepping back into her shadow. Going to her hometown in Mexico would feel like walking toward her, not toward myself. How do I connect with my ancestors if they’re hers too? The roots I’ve tried to untangle feel like they would only tighten around me.

My father’s side is no safe haven, either. They reject their own Indigeneity, dismissing me because my skin is lighter, because I don’t “look Indigenous” enough. They forget that blood, stories, and traditions don’t care about skin tone. I’ve seen cousins near thirty still aching for warmth they never received, enduring abuse in silence. I come from two places that never wanted to hold me with care, and for so long, I felt rootless—floating with no foundation, no family.

But I’ve learned I can grow my own roots. I don’t have to return to the soil I came from to find my identity. I can create my own. Music is where I belong. None of my family are rappers, but through music, I can honor my story, my culture, and my emotions without being chained to their pain. Rhythm is the heartbeat of my people, storytelling is in our blood, and in every lyric I write, I am planting something new. Through music, I am building a future not defined by inherited hurt, but by resilience, voice, and creation.