Before I could even string together sentences in English, I was able to sing the entirety of Buy U a Drank by T-Pain. I had no clue what the heck I was saying, but my diction and pronunciation was perfect. That was back in 2007, just a few months after I had immigrated to the United States with my family. Learning English was one of my top priorities, so I threw myself into the culture. Instead of watching Rebelde, a Spanish, teenage soap opera, I started watching Hannah Montana and iCarly. Instead of listening only to Aventura, a Dominican bachata group, I listened to everything from Drake to Kesha and everything in between. I think that music has helped me most, and it helped me form my identity as a person who not only loved music but also loved learning about the English language. Through music, one is really able to gauge all the different ways the language can be manipulated to express exactly how you feel. Sometimes, I would try to break down lyrics and I learned that most forms of musical expression are metaphorical. This came to me after listening to Fireflies by Owl City and realizing 10,000 fireflies weren’t actually lighting up the world as the speaker fell asleep. But I digress. Today I’m a fluent bilingual speaker, and I probably couldn’t have done it without the help of music everywhere. It has taken an intrinsic role in my development from childhood all the way through adulthood, and let’s be honest, sometimes artists are just better at wording our own feelings than we can say for ourselves. When Kesha said, “your love is my drug,” I think we all felt that.

Having an identity crisis at the ripe age of 12 years old is a wild concept. There I was, asking my mom to get me silly bands while eating fried salami and plantains. Usually, the depression that comes along with hitting puberty is similar; when you like a guy and you start feeling insecure and asking yourself, “what if I’m not good enough?” Well on top of that what if you thought, “what if I’m not Dominican enough?? What if I’m not American enough?? What if they start making fun of my accent or the fact I can’t cook like my mom?” Having these thought processes at the ripe age of 12, like I said, is a wild concept. And yet it’s not entirely unheard of when it comes to immigrants. When I came to the United States 15 years ago, I never imagined I would have this line of questioning running around my head. I mean I was seven, but I felt like I was whole as I was. It wasn’t until I entered the school system that I began to experience the chaotic sense of being a different person based on the environment. If I was at home I was expected to be a dutiful daughter, ask my parents for their blessing everyday, help my mother in the kitchen and make sure I greeted everyone who came to the home with a hug and a kiss (whether I knew them or not). Meanwhile, at school I was expected to know a new language, cultural greetings, how to be a good student or a friend and all the new trends. It was exhausting; I was able to do it all at a cost. After a while I had no trace of my Spanish accent left. When I was around extended family they’d make fun of the wannabe American kid. Yet at school I was still an outsider. The kid that had to say, “sion mami,” and kiss their mom every day no matter where we were. The kid that wouldn’t even ask their parent for permission to go places because the answer would be a strong no. Suddenly, I found myself outside of the center of the Venn diagram my world had become, desperately wondering, who had I become? Who was I? To this day, a decade later, these are thoughts I still struggle with. With time, I’ve learned this: if I surround myself with people who make me question my worth or identity, those people aren't seeing me for who I am. The truth is that it doesn't matter if I listen to bachata and follow it with punk pop. The things about me that matter, the things that count, those things don't change depending on who I'm with. I always try to be kind, giving, and honest no matter where I am because I've learned that these are the things I value most in others. As long as I don't lose sight of those things, I'm golden.

This isn’t a very good one, but it made me cackle because of the cultural truth behind it. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to any sort of fancy party with Latin hosts, but the times in my life that I’ve gone, one truth remains: Dominican moms love their arreglos (centerpieces)!

Behold: pictured above is the moment I took the oath to become a United States sailor. I’m the first in my family to ever join the military, on both paternal and maternal sides. It was terrifying. But, so far so good. Hooyah navy!

I’m going to skip to the end: what I’ve learned in my 22 years is that it really doesn’t matter what you look like or how much you’ve done, self love comes from within. My name, not that it matters, is Anngie. I’ve always been the short and nerdy girl with hyper organizational tendencies who’s always had her nose in a book, show, or movie. I fought to get good grades, learn how to dress and wear make up, and overall tried to be the best version of myself. No matter how fine everything seemed from the outside I always felt lacking. Like no matter how many honor rolls, or how perfect my winged eye-liner came out, it wasn’t enough. And the real problem, as most people find out sooner or later, was in the way I spoke to myself. Like if I got a 96 I’d be upset if I couldn’t raise it to a 100. If I got the 100 in the first place, I wouldn’t even celebrate before moving on to conquering the next thing. This left me feeling like mediocrity followed me around, and it made me feel like I’m not enough. It still does some days, but now that I’m aware of the problem, I may be able to do something about it. I might be able to remember to celebrate my wins, and to not beat myself up too hard about my loses. To take time to myself and be proactive about building myself up instead of tearing myself down. This journey has been a long one and I’m sure I’m nowhere near the end, but I’m excited to see how the relationship I have with myself gets nurtured and shifts into a healthier, more loving one.