I’ll never forget the moment I realized writing was my great love—it hit me like that first spine-tingling crush in middle school. You know the one: sweaty palms, a racing heart, and the nagging fear that you might completely mess this up. Except this wasn’t sparked by some kid in knock-off Converse during homeroom. No, this was me, sitting in my high school newsroom, staring at the blinking cursor on a Word document, feeling a magnetic pull toward storytelling.

Looking back now, I realize that what started as a minor infatuation has grown into the real deal—my life’s passion. And as anyone who’s ever been in love knows, you go through stages. Falling in love with my passion wasn’t an “at first sight” story; it was more like a slow burn romance, full of awkward moments, self-doubt, and eventual triumph. Let me share how I stumbled onto this path that still sets my heart on fire every day.

The First Date: Finding My Spark

Growing up in Houston’s East End, I was surrounded by vibrant stories waiting to unravel. My Cuban-Mexican family was basically a walking novela convention—imagine wild family feuds over dominoes and my abuela's dramatic retellings of her salsa-dancing youth. But fitting all that color into my own life, as a shy and awkward kid, wasn’t easy. I spent more time watching from the sidelines than jumping into the action.

That changed my sophomore year of high school when I found myself (accidentally, might I add) in a journalism elective. Let’s just say that year’s cheer tryouts didn’t go the way I’d planned: two sprained ankles and a crushed ego later, I was in search of a club that didn’t require high kicks. Journalism was my rebound crush.

It didn’t take long for sparks to fly. Sure, my first “big scoop” was about the school vending machines (groundbreaking, I know), but I loved the act of shaping words to make a story come alive. It felt oddly empowering to ask questions, listening not just to the words but to the meaning behind them. By the end of the year, I was in deep—I skipped football games to lay out front pages, took my laptop to quinceañeras because deadlines always won, and started recognizing there was something profound in capturing ordinary moments.

The Commitment Phase: Making Writing Personal

Falling in love is one thing, but committing? That’s a whole different beast. After high school, writing evolved from a playful flirtation to something deeper. At the University of Houston, I majored in journalism, juggling assignments on Houston City Council meetings with creative essays about tamales and belonging. But the real defining moment came when I spent a semester abroad in Madrid.

In Madrid, I learned a valuable lesson: your passion isn’t just the thing you’re willing to work for—it’s also what demands vulnerability. There, thousands of miles from home, I felt completely unmoored. My Tex-Mex accent sounded strange next to Spain’s crisp Castilian lisp. I’d get asked questions like, “Do you feel more Mexican or Cuban?” and “Why does Houston have that cowboy-meets-bodega vibe?” To explain myself in words that felt true, I needed to dig deeper, peeling back the layers of my identity like the skin off an arroz con leche. I started writing more personally—stories about Houston’s immigrant neighborhoods, the music that raised me, and how my family’s mismatched Spanglish gave me roots. It wasn’t easy, but it was electrifying.

The Marriage of Passion and Hustle: Putting in the Work

Now here’s where following your passion gets real: it’s not always romantic. After college, I took a job as a local news reporter. I dreamed of telling soaring narratives about untold human struggles, but instead, I covered potluck bake-offs and rodeos—nice, but not exactly Pulitzer-worthy.

There were days my passion felt like a demanding partner. Writing could be exhausting, draining the well of creativity I dug so carefully. Rejection was everywhere: editors sent pitches back with ice-cold bullet points; website clicks decided my worth; friends joked I was living on “exposure” instead of paychecks. Some weeks, I thought, "Maybe this just isn’t worth it.”

But passion, much like relationships, thrives when you put in the work. I poured my soul into writing creatively on the side, even after long days chasing deadlines. Eventually, those pieces opened doors I never expected, including the debut collection of personal essays that helped me realize: I wanted my words to make people feel seen, the way great storytelling made me feel seen as a girl growing up in a complex, colorful culture.

How to Find (and Keep) Your Passion

If you’re at the beginning of your own journey with a passion—writing or otherwise—here’s what I’ve learned about keeping the flame alive:

  1. Follow What Makes You Curious. Your passion might not hit you like a lightning bolt. It might start as a mild interest and grow from there. Think of it as friend-zoning a hobby before realizing it’s “the one.”

  2. Be Patient When It Hurts. Just because you love something doesn’t mean it’ll always love you back in obvious ways. Stick with it—you’ll grow through the tough spots.

  3. Take Breaks but Don’t Quit. Passions don’t die overnight. Sometimes they just need space to breathe. Back in college, when I was burned out, I didn’t write for weeks. Instead of guilt-tripping myself, I let life refuel me.

  4. Say What Only You Can Say. There’s power in your perspective, no matter how common or niche it seems at first.

  5. Surround Yourself with Believers. Find your cheerleaders—friends, mentors, or communities who see the spark in you even when you don’t.

Love Letter to the Passionate Life

So here I am—older, a little wiser, and still completely smitten. Writing isn’t just something I do anymore; it’s the lens through which I see the world. It’s how I process grief and love and joy, and how I remember the way the Gulf breeze smells after a summer storm. But most importantly, it’s how I connect—with others and with my own heart.

If there’s one takeaway here, it’s this: falling in love with your passion isn’t always neat and tidy. It’s messy and imperfect, just like real relationships. You’ll argue with it, question it, and maybe even try to walk away. But when it’s right, it’ll bring you back every time, reminding you why you started this journey to begin with.

At the end of the day, passions, like love, aren’t about perfection—they’re about commitment. And for that, I’ll always say: sí, quiero.