How I Learned to Turn Life’s Chaos Into a Playlist
Every now and then, I find myself thinking of my tío Pepe. He used to blast Celia Cruz in our kitchen while making Cuban coffee so strong it could restart a car battery. “¡La vida es un carnaval!” he’d shout over the music, swirling a wooden spoon in a metal pot. He wasn’t just singing along—it felt like a life philosophy dressed up as a salsa anthem. Back then, I didn’t know my life would someday be its own chaotic carnival parade, in desperate need of a soundtrack to keep things moving.
When people ask about my writing process or what inspires me, I say, “It’s all in the music.” Music isn’t just background noise; it’s the guide rails for my emotions, those invisible threads tying memories, moods, and moments into vivid scenes on the page. But we’re not here to dwell entirely on my creative process. Instead, let’s break down how music has shaped the way I navigate, well, everything: from my Houston upbringing to heartbreaks, self-discovery, and even how I danced (literally and metaphorically) into my understanding of love.
Here’s a little trip through the playlists that stitch together my life—and maybe yours, too.
1. "The Smell of Sazón and Selena" (Childhood Memories)
Growing up in Houston’s East End felt like living inside a mixtape of nostalgia. My childhood was a blend of high school football games, abuelita’s tamales, and endless weekends filled with loud cumbia and Tejano rhythms courtesy of Selena y Los Dinos. Selena was it. The lace gloves, the sparkling jumpsuits, and a voice that made my little Cuban-Mexican self believe I could one day conquer the world—or at least the karaoke stage on my cousins’ birthdays.
These songs weren’t just music; they were rituals. When Selena’s “Amor Prohibido” played, grown-ups held Styrofoam plates of arroz con pollo like fragile treasures, and kids like me practiced our spins and pasos until we fell into a chaotic pile. Her music taught me the quiet magic in ordinary moments, and even now, when I hear her sing “Como La Flor,” I’m transported to a time where life felt so solid, so permanent, so simple.
Your Soundtrack Tip: Step back into those songs that remind you of Sunday dinners and your mom yelling, “Bájale al volumen!” (Turn down the volume!). Play them when you feel like the world’s spinning too fast—they ground you in the best ways.
2. "Breakup Ballads for the Overdramatic"
Tell me you haven’t cried to a painfully relatable breakup song, and I will show you someone who hasn’t truly lived. My first heartbreak, courtesy of a guy who wrote a poem about my “sparkling eyes” and then dated my best friend, could’ve been sponsored by Gloria Estefan’s “No Me Dejes de Querer.” I lay on my twin bed, dramatically interpreting every single lyric as if Gloria herself were narrating my grief.
But heartbreak isn’t just about wallowing. It’s when music becomes your battlefield, and for me, Shakira carried me through Round Two. Songs like “Si Te Vas” and “Inevitable” transformed my sorrow into something powerful—every wailing guitar riff matched my emotions perfectly. One night, I wiped my mascara-streaked cheeks, put on “Ojos Así,” and thought, “Girl, if Shakira can belly dance through heartbreak, so can you.”
Your Soundtrack Tip: Everyone deserves a “post-breakup baddie playlist.” Think anthems that remind you of your worth: maybe some Beyoncé for the swagger or throwback Shania Twain for the sass. Dance it off. Repeat.
3. "Café con Reggaetón: Finding Myself in Madrid"
Madrid was where I discovered reggaetón could be cerebral. And before you laugh, hear me out. Yes, Daddy Yankee’s “Gasolina” became the unofficial anthem of my study-abroad experience (and the soundtrack to many questionable nights involving sangria). But something about being far from home, spinning under club lights, made those repetitive beats feel strangely profound.
It was in Madrid where I learned that music has the power to connect identity and reinvention. Between flamenco guitar and Marc Anthony ballads played at cafés, I journaled about what it meant to be Latina in another country. Songs like Natalia Lafourcade’s “Hasta La Raíz” gave me permission to feel deeply about where I came from and where I was going.
Your Soundtrack Tip: When life feels confusing, find songs that celebrate your roots and your growth. Bonus points if you can dance to them in your pajamas.
4. "Love in the Key of Houston R&B"
Fast forward to my mid-20s, when I’d almost given up on love entirely. Dating felt like walking through Houston humidity in the middle of summer—an exhausting effort that left me feeling wilted. But then I met someone who wasn’t intimidated by my sarcasm or my tendency to hog the aux cord. Our first connection wasn’t a flashy song—it was him quietly singing Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On” while I nearly burned a batch of empanadas.
It wasn’t just Marvin, though. Houston’s own artists—Solange, Lizzo, Beyoncé (of course)—dominated our playlists as we built something real. Solange’s “Cranes in the Sky” was especially poignant on nights when love felt both light and heavy. Love has its soundtrack, one that’s strange and unpredictable but somehow fits perfectly.
Your Soundtrack Tip: Curate a playlist with your partner. This builds musical intimacy—when you share songs, you share pieces of yourself. Trust me, it’s the sexiest thing after making empanadas together.
5. "Writing to the Beat"
As a writer, music is the hand that pulls me through the forest of blank pages. My creative process is largely fueled by playlists tailored to mood or project. If I’m writing about family: Celia Cruz and Carlos Vives. If I’m tinkering with dialogue, Kendrick Lamar and Bad Bunny help sharpen the rhythms. And if I just need to get words on the page, Missy Elliott’s “Work It” is a non-negotiable.
Sometimes, I even attempt an old trick my high school journalism teacher taught me: write out a problem, then solve it while quietly singing along to a song. The act of musical multitasking keeps my inner critic too busy to poke holes in my first draft.
Your Soundtrack Tip: Need inspiration? Experiment with instrumental music—think lo-fi beats or even movie scores. Or let the rich storytelling of your favorite artist (Joni Mitchell? Rosalía?) push your narrative forward.
6. "La Vida Es Un Carnaval (Still)"
Life is messy—a kaleidoscope of trial and triumph, laughter and tears, and the occasional existential panic while standing in line at Target. But whenever I’m lost, I poke fun at myself and think of tío Pepe, sing-shouting, “No hay que llorar…” (There’s no need to cry.) over blaring horns.
Music isn’t necessarily the map for this carnival; it’s the confetti and tambourine keeping me going as the floats pass by. And in a world that feels impossibly loud, music helps me tune out just enough of the chaos to stay grounded—and hopeful.
Your Soundtrack Tip: Create a playlist as dynamic as you are. Let it celebrate your history, your heartbreak, your hope. And never underestimate the power of shouting “¡Azúcar!” in the mirror when it’s just you and your reflection.
Life, like a great playlist, is better when it surprises you—when slow ballads build into explosive choruses, and unexpected joy sneaks in between familiar beats. So, go ahead: lean into your soundtrack, whatever it may be. After all, what’s the point of living if you can’t dance a little along the way?
