Why I Write (and Keep Writing)

Storytelling Is Like First-Date Chemistry

Ever been on a date where the conversation flows so effortlessly it feels like you’ve known each other forever? That’s what storytelling feels like for me. From the moment I sat at my abuela’s knee listening to her recount family tales—half true, half exaggerated, fully mesmerizing—I was hooked on the magic of words. Stories have this special power to connect us, like some irresistible gravitational pull.

For me, writing is less about sitting in front of a blank screen and more about capturing that spark. It’s that butterflies-in-your-stomach moment when the right words click into place. And let me tell you, writing and dating have one odd thing in common: they both require resilience when things don’t click.

Sometimes, I spill my heart onto the page, only to end up rereading it with the same cringe as if I’d just texted “wyd” to a ghoster at 11 p.m. Yet, I keep coming back. Why? Because much like love (or at least, the possibility of it), there’s something endlessly hopeful about storytelling.

Writing as My Passport and My Anchor

Growing up in Little Havana, I was surrounded by stories—layered narratives of longing, survival, and joy. My parents shared tales about leaving Cuba with nothing but dreams sewn into their pockets. My grandmother’s kitchen became a portal to the old country, where every dish had its own origin story, as rich as the mojo sauce simmering on the stove.

Writing became my way of preserving those stories. It’s how I learned to thread the past into the present. Whether it’s sprinkling bits of my culture into fiction or recalling the vibrancy of Calle Ocho in an essay, words have become my passport—they let me explore new worlds while staying firmly rooted in my own identity.

Being bilingual added another layer to this. When you live in the space between two languages, you constantly translate your world, piecing words together like a puzzle to make sure everyone understands. Writing became my bridge, my way of connecting people who might feel miles apart, whether because of language or experience.

Side note: If you’ve ever tried explaining a Cuban dicho, or saying, to someone who doesn’t speak Spanish, you’ll know my lifelong obsession with storytelling was no accident. Try explaining to a date why your mom told you “A falta de pan, casabe,” (“If there’s no bread, eat cassava”) when you brought up your canceled dinner plans. You’re going to end up telling a lot of backstory.

Creative Writing vs. Reality TV Drama

I’ll admit it: writing sometimes reminds me of bingeing reality TV. Bold claim? Let me explain. Creating something out of thin air has the same chaotic energy as watching contestants fall in love on The Bachelor. Will this idea work out, or will it crash and burn in spectacular fashion?

There’s tension. There’s drama. And most of the time, there’s a moment where you’re yelling at yourself, “Why did you think THIS was a good idea?!” Yet, the thrill of the unknown keeps pulling you back in, again and again.

But here’s the trick: unlike reality TV, storytelling requires a kind of vulnerability reality stars conveniently edit out. Writing is incredibly raw, like showing up for a date without the safety net of makeup or practiced witty comebacks. You have to own the cringey, imperfect parts of yourself. And somehow, in that honesty, genuine connections happen—with your readers, your audience, and yourself.

Some Things Worth Writing About (Again and Again)

I like to think of writing as my endless love letter to the world—sometimes poetic, sometimes snarky, always evolving. There are certain themes I come back to over and over, much like revisiting your favorite rom-coms when you’re in need of comfort. Here are a few of mine:

1. Identity and Belonging
I write to untangle what it means to belong—whether you’re caught between cultures, figuring out who you are in your 20s (or 30s), or just coming to terms with the messy beauty of being human.

2. Relationships in Their Glorious Chaos
Dating, love, breakups, friendship—we’re all trying to decode some version of these, aren’t we? Writing helps me process how connection works (or doesn’t) in a world where catching vibes often feels harder than catching Wi-Fi. And yes, it’s also where I vent when “he” doesn’t text back.

3. The Power of Food Stories
Food isn’t just sustenance; it’s memory, identity, and a way of saying “I love you” when words fall short. Writing about food lets me explore those deep bonds, whether I’m reminiscing about my mom’s arroz con pollo or dissecting why sharing dessert on a first date feels oddly intimate.

How Storytelling Saved My Sense of Self

Here’s the thing no one tells you about chasing a writing dream: it’s both wildly romantic and absolutely soul-crushing. Imagine falling hard for someone who doesn’t text you back for months but still keeps you hooked because, somehow, you know the connection’s real. Writing can feel like that—a mix of heartbreak, hunger, and elation.

The first time I got published, it was a column piece about a domino tournament in Little Havana. It wasn’t groundbreaking, but I’ll never forget the pride on my parents’ faces or my tío Pepe calling to say, “Oye, mi sobrina es escritora,” like I was suddenly the family’s biggest celebrity.

That’s why I keep writing. When I get lost—or scared, or stuck—it helps me find my way back to myself, to my family, and to everyone who reminds me why stories matter in the first place.

Why You Should Tell Your Own Story

Whether you’re journaling, Instagram captioning, or just retelling your wild Friday night to friends, storytelling is a way of making sense of your world and leaving your mark on it—big or small.

Think about the best dates you’ve ever been on or the deepest conversations you’ve had with someone you love. What made them meaningful? Odds are it wasn’t just the candlelight or the perfectly crafted Spotify playlist (though those help). It was the way you shared something personal, raw, and real—and in turn, invited the other person to do the same.

That’s the funny thing about words. You don’t need poetic phrasing or MFA-level expertise to wield their power. You just need to show up and share something true.

The Takeaway: Stories Are the Heartbeat of Connection

At the end of the day, I write because stories do something magical—they remind us that despite differences in language, culture, or circumstance, we’re all living, laughing, and hurting in the same messy human way.

So here’s my encouragement to you: Share your story. Write the thing you’ve been wanting to say. Call your mom and ask for that family tale she swears she told you a hundred times (but you know you’ve forgotten the details). Keep coming back to the page, the stage, or the dinner table, ready to create connections that count.

And if it doesn’t work out perfectly? Welcome to the club. Writing and storytelling, like dating, are always a little chaotic—but hey, that’s also what makes them beautiful.