The Call That Changed Everything
I was making café cubano one humid Miami morning, the kind where the air feels like a wet blanket and the sky is holding its breath before an afternoon storm. My abuelo was sitting on the couch, fiddling with the volume on the Telemundo midday news. Life was predictable, and in some ways, comforting—but predictable has its limits. So when my phone buzzed, I nearly let it ring through because, honestly, spam calls were getting ridiculous. (If one more “Maria from Student Loan Services” called, I was ready to make her an honorary family member.)
But something told me to pick up. And for once in my life—shocking, I know—I actually listened to my gut.
The voice on the other end was confident and calm, with just enough enthusiasm to be contagious. It was an editor from a major Spanish-language media outlet in New York City, calling to offer me a summer internship. Apparently, my application, sent in a mix of equal parts confidence and late-night cafecito adrenaline, had stood out. He wanted me in New York in two weeks.
For a split second, I froze. I'm not talking about the cute, dramatic freeze like in a telenovela where the protagonist dramatically pauses before announcing her triumphant plans. No, I mean full-on-is-someone-pranking-me frozen. And yet, in the tiniest corner of my brain, I could hear one word repeating over and over like a drumbeat: Go.
The Leap From Comfort to Chaos
Taking that call meant stepping right out of the comfort zone I’d spent years perfecting. Miami wasn’t just home—it was my cocoon. A place where I could roll my R’s with reckless abandon, where ventanitas served up croquetas like lifelines, and where my family was just five minutes (and maybe three unsolicited calls) away.
New York? Well, let’s just say I had a complicated relationship with the city. It was exciting with its hustle and glitz, but also terrifying in a “Why is everyone walking so fast, and why do I smell bagels and trash at the same time?” kind of way. Yet, the opportunity to dive into storytelling on a bigger stage was a dream I never allowed myself to speak out loud.
Of course, not everyone understood my decision. My mom worried endlessly about me “freezing to death” in 75-degree weather with a light breeze. My abuelo called me loca for trading Miami’s pastelitos for New York’s “bread with a hole.” But breaking free from what’s familiar often means learning to sit with that uncertainty—you don’t always get applause when you decide to rewrite your personal script.
Lessons From a Life-Changing Yes
That one phone call flipped a switch, not just in my career but in how I approached life and relationships. It wasn’t just a door opening—it was a reminder to throw myself into the unknown, even if the unknown feels like a cross between a bad rom-com setup and reality TV chaos.
Here’s what I learned:
1. Fear Isn’t the Enemy—Go Anyway
Leaving Miami and everything I knew behind was terrifying. The first night I spent alone in my shoebox-sized apartment in the Bronx, I cried into a $10 slice of pizza (yes, $10—it was Manhattan-adjacent, after all). But in the days that followed, I swam into the deep end of my fears and realized that they softened the longer I stayed afloat.
Here’s the secret: Whether you’re starting over in a new city or embarking on a relationship that feels intimidating, fear is less about danger and more about growth knocking at your door. No telefoniquéalo (don’t ghost it)—answer.
2. You’re Allowed to Be Two Things: Scared and Capable
One thing I’ve realized—whether you’re pitching an article, navigating office politics, or learning to share a bed with someone whose “sleeping position” is starfish—it’s okay to be both uncertain and brave. Some of the best decisions I’ve made in life and love began with me feeling wildly unprepared.
Write that risky text. Fly to meet them even when your nerves are tangled. Root for your own story’s plot to twist.
3. Connections Change You
Living in Miami, I was surrounded by stories—my dad retelling his journey to America for the hundredth time, my mom spinning family gossip like soft gold—but New York expanded my perspective tenfold. From colleagues who narrated their family journeys across oceans, to conversations overheard on crowded subway rides, I understood stories are the connective tissue of human connection.
Since then, in relationships of all kinds, I’ve tried to prioritize hearing people’s stories—not just the grammatically perfect ones, but the messy, vulnerable mosaics of who they are and where they’ve been. (It’s no surprise my most interesting conversations on dates have always been the ones where we skipped the “What do you do?” and got to the “What makes you get up in the morning?”)
It Started With a Phone Call
You might wonder what that call ultimately led to. The internship taught me that pacing the floors of a newsroom requires stamina—and so does learning who you are. It was the launchpad I needed to channel the stories close to my heart, build a professional life bigger than I’d imagined, and yes, write to you about the power of small moments that change our trajectory.
So if there’s a call you’re hesitating to make or a moment you’re scared to take—consider this your divine sign from the universe filtered through me: Pick up, go, leap. Sure, your feet might not always touch the ground right away, but floating mid-air can teach you how to fly.
And for the record? New York pizza still can’t hold a candle to my mom’s ropa vieja.
