Lessons I Wish I Knew Earlier

The Myth of “Having It All Figured Out”

Let me start by saying this: no one—and I mean no one—has it all figured out. Not your friend who got married at 24 and seems to be living a Hallmark movie. Not your tía who insists she knows the secret to lasting love (hint: it involves copious amounts of café Cubano and loudly ignoring red flags). And definitely not me, although I like to think I’ve learned a few things after stumbling my way through heartbreak, near-misses, and plenty of “what was I thinking?” moments.

If I could write a letter to my younger self, fresh off a heartbreak and drowning my sorrows in pastelitos de guayaba, here’s what I’d say. Maybe it’ll save you some time—and emotional wear and tear too.

1. “Chemistry” Is Not the Be-All, End-All

We’ve all been there: sparks flying, jokes landing, and your brain basically screaming, This is it! This is the person! I remember meeting someone in my early 20s—it was one of those whirlwind connections straight out of a cheesy telenovela. Cue the dramatic glances and soundtrack-worthy moments. I thought, “With this spark, how could it not work?”

Well, spoiler alert: Chemistry without compatibility is like trying to bake flan with no sugar—it might look okay for a minute, but it’s going to fall apart fast. Chemistry gets you in the door, but it’s shared values, communication, and knowing how someone takes their coffee (trust me, it matters) that help you stay in the room.

So before you mistake fireworks for forever, ask yourself: Do we actually like the same things? Do we laugh at the same jokes? And honestly, can I imagine this person putting up with my 90 Day Fiancé obsession without rolling their eyes? Compatibility matters. A lot.

2. Never Ignore the “Quiet” Red Flags

We always talk about the obvious warning signs: the person who won’t stop talking about their ex, the one who keeps “forgetting” their wallet, or the one who only texts after 10 p.m. (We aren’t pizza delivery—you should not only want us late at night.). But let’s take a moment to talk about the sneaky ones.

It’s the person who dismisses your passions. Or the one who “jokes” about things that actually hurt your feelings (Why yes, I do like my shirt tucked in, Juan, and I’m proud of it.). And maybe it’s the one who texts back, but only just enough to keep you interested.

Red flags aren’t always bright and dazzling; sometimes, they’re whispers that don’t sit right in your gut. I’ve learned to trust that instinct—it’s never wrong. The right person will fuel your fire, not try to snuff it out just because they feel dimmer by comparison.

3. Love Yourself Like You Love Croquetas

Listen, I grew up watching hardworking people pour every ounce of themselves into feeding others—literally and metaphorically. My mami made her life about making sure everyone else was taken care of before stopping long enough to ask herself, “Pero, am I happy?”

The truth hit me somewhere between attempting to salvage relationships that weren’t right for me and trying to “fix” people who didn’t want fixing (hint: it never works): how can someone else truly see your worth if you’re not even convinced of it yourself?

Here’s a little exercise. Imagine you’re a croqueta—perfectly crispy on the outside, warm and comforting on the inside. You don’t let people slather ketchup (ugh) all over you if that’s not your thing. You deserve love exactly as you are. The way you want it. The way you need it. And if that person doesn’t agree, no pasa nada—more croquetas for you.

4. Communication Isn’t Just Talking—It’s Listening

For years, I thought I was great at communicating. I talked a lot. Shared my feelings. Wrote long text messages that I thought were heartfelt but, in hindsight, came off more like novellas. What I realized later? Communication was a two-way street, and I was blocking most of the traffic with my own anxieties (sorry about that, Lisa from 2015).

The biggest lessons I’ve learned? Ask questions, then actually listen to the answers without forming your rebuttal mid-listen. Pay attention to tone and body language. And for heaven’s sake, if a person tells you what they want—or don’t want—believe them the first time.

One of the weirdly romantic things about listening is how it builds trust. I’m not even talking grand, sweeping gestures. Sometimes, it’s as small as remembering they prefer mango soda over cola or hate cilantro on their tacos (yes, I’m side-eyeing you, cilantro-haters).

5. Don’t Wait for Perfect Timing

Newsflash: perfect timing is a myth, that flan with no sugar again. Life is messy. People come into your life right when you’re convinced you’re meant to be single. Or maybe right after you swore off dating entirely (been there, done that, ran into my ex at a Publix afterward just for dramatic flair).

The “perfect moment” we obsess over rarely exists. What matters is if someone is worth showing up for, even when it’s inconvenient or scary. But—and this part is crucial—they have to show up too. Don’t put your life on hold for someone who’s busy deciding if they want you in theirs.

Relationships are built while you’re figuring it out together, in all the chaos and imperfection. I promise you: waiting for things to magically “make sense” will just leave you with cold croquetas and unresolved what-ifs. And nobody wants to live like that.

6. It's Okay to Walk Away

Here’s one I wrestled with for way longer than I’d care to admit. I was raised in a family where loyalty was everything—it didn’t matter if something wasn’t working; you stuck with it. For better or worse, pero mostly worse. And yes, that applies to both relationships and five-year-old pots and pans.

Walking away from something that isn’t enriching your life—or worse, something that’s draining you—isn’t a betrayal. It’s self-preservation. Relationships involve work, sure, but they shouldn’t feel like you’re the only one clocking in. The hardest thing to learn is that sometimes love alone isn’t enough. And that’s okay. Letting go creates room for the love you truly deserve.

The Best Is Yet to Come

Look, navigating relationships isn’t easy. People are complicated, emotions are messy, and the best advice I can give will still come second to the lessons you’ll figure out for yourself, probably when you’re sitting in the car eating garlic knots because you need a minute (don’t judge—it helps).

But the beauty of all the missteps and heartbreaks is that they teach us how to love better, clearer, and fuller. They teach us what we really need and who we want standing next to us when life gets crazy.

If no one has said it lately: you’ve got this. Take your lessons, your scars, and your quirks, and keep showing up for the celebration that is your life. And next time you’re sitting at a café debating whether to text someone back or to go in for the kiss, remember: the best decisions always involve a little bit of courage (and sometimes guava).

Now go, be your messy, wonderful self—and know it’s more than enough.