The Things I Can’t Live Without

Cafecito: A Hug in a Mug

Let’s start with the obvious. If you grew up in a Cuban-Mexican household like I did, you know coffee isn’t just a drink—it’s a whole experience. There’s no such thing as a “quick cup”; cafecito is brewed slowly, with care, whether it’s for yourself or your entire family. For me, it’s always un cortadito—dark, but with just enough cream and sugar to keep things balanced.

Cafecito is my daily ritual, my pick-me-up, and my stay-awake-through-life’s-chaos solution. But it’s also nostalgic. I can still hear my abuela calling, “¡Cafecito está listo!” while we gathered in the kitchen to sip and gossip. Whether I’m dissecting the latest plot twist in telenovelas with my mom or brainstorming my next article, coffee fuels my best conversations. In fact, I’d argue it’s as essential to connection as it is to caffeine.

I tried living without it “for my health” once. Big mistake. Never again.

My Red Lipstick: Instant Confidence in a Tube

Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone on the spectrum—don’t underestimate the power of a signature color. Mine? A bold, unapologetic red that makes me feel equal parts Frida Kahlo, Celia Cruz, and my tía Rosa when she’s ready for a night of salsa dancing.

If confidence was weather, wearing my red lipstick is like catching a warm breeze on an otherwise cloudy day. It’s my go-to when I need to feel fearless—whether I’m walking into a first date or just braving the grocery store on a Sunday morning (the latter is scarier, I promise).

Red lipstick sends a signal. It’s bold, it’s playful, and it says, “Yes, I know my worth, gracias.” And while makeup trends come and go—looking at you, skinny 1990s brows—my red lipstick is a forever classic, just like Romeo Santos or Beyoncé.

My Kitchen: Where the Love Happens

No, I’m not one of those people who learned how to make artisan sourdough during quarantine (though I respect you if you did). My kitchen, however, is sacred ground. Growing up, food was how we said “I love you.” An extra scoop of rice and beans on your plate? Love. My dad sneaking me a caldo de pollo during finals week? Mega love.

Today, my kitchen remains my refuge. There’s something magical about recreating the dishes that shaped my childhood—mom’s tamales, abuela’s picadillo, the tostones my brother always over-fried but everyone ate anyway. Cooking keeps me intertwined with my roots while reminding me to slow down, even when life races ahead.

Plus, nothing spices up date night like teaching someone how to roll a perfect enchilada. Trust me.

My Playlist: The Soundtrack to My Soul

If you ever find yourself in my car, there’s a high chance my playlist will take you from Selena to Bad Bunny to a random 2000s emo anthem in .02 seconds. Music has always been my therapy and time machine, and my playlists? They’re pure vibes.

Salsa reminds me of weddings, quinceañeras, and my parents dancing like no one was watching. Reggaetón? That’s my late-night “I’m going to text that risky text” energy. And don’t get me started on bachata—it’s both romantic and tragic, perfect for those post-heartbreak karaoke sessions when you need to cry but also look good doing it.

Making the perfect playlist is like curating tiny chapters of your life. Some songs make me feel empowered, others nostalgic, and some—like anything by Juan Gabriel—make me cry so hard I question if I’ll ever recover. Either way, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

My Group Chats: Life’s Real MVPs

Whoever invented group chats deserves a medal, except for the WhatsApp tías who flood them with endless chain messages. Those I could live without. But my group chats? They’re where life happens.

There’s one with my cousins—equal parts family drama, memes, and arguing over whose turn it is to host Nochebuena. Another with my best friends where we exchange dating advice that ranges from sage wisdom to absolutely chaotically bad ideas. (Sorry, Vanessa, but I don’t think texting him first after four margaritas qualifies as subtle.)

These chats are like digital picnics. A safe space to laugh, vent, overshare, and get hyped up when you land that big promotion or finally ghost that toxic situationship. If people are the greatest gift in life, group chats are the glittery wrapping paper—you could survive without them, but where’s the fun in that?

My Journal: My Most Honest Relationship

You know that quote about how putting pen to paper is therapeutic? It’s legit. My journal has been with me through every twist and turn—from my high school heartbreak over a guy who thought Limp Bizkit was peak music, to the time I made a total fool of myself trying flamenco dancing abroad in Madrid. (Spoiler: I lack rhythm.)

Journaling is where I get real with myself. It’s where I process, neutralize the chaos in my brain, and sometimes even find solutions when no one else has the answer. Sure, it’s a little messy—half bad poetry, half to-do lists—but that’s also life, right?

I vividly remember once rereading an entry from years ago and laughing so hard I cried. “He’s the one,” teenage Ileana had confidently written. Let’s just say, he very much wasn’t. But honestly? I wouldn’t trade those moments of hope for anything.

My Faith in Love: A Necessary Essential

Okay, I know what you’re thinking—corny alert! But hear me out. Life throws a million curveballs, right? Sometimes you’re nailing it, and sometimes you’re eating cereal for dinner and wondering why nobody in rom-coms ever looks overwhelmed at Target. Through it all, faith in love keeps me steady.

Not just romantic love (though I still very much believe in sweaty palm first kisses and lazy Sunday mornings with someone who knows how to make migas). I’m talking about love in all its forms—friendship, family, the small joys that make you feel at home within yourself.

If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that love isn’t always easy, but it’s always worth it. Whether it’s nurturing yourself, bonding over cafecito with your abuela, or believing in second (and third) chances with your dream person—it’s love that anchors me.

Look, I could probably live without some of these things, technically. But would I really be living? Not a chance. Your essentials might look a bit different, and that’s the beauty of it. Whether it’s a favorite family recipe, a song that makes you feel alive, or a shade of lipstick that reminds you just how bad*ss you are—find your must-haves and hold them close. Life’s too short not to live for the things that light you up.