Since I was a little girl I’ve always been a bit weird. I grew up in the middle of Guatemala City, on one of the main and most busy roads. No neighbours around me. “Too unsafe” we thought as kids, to go around the corner and play soccer or just have a chat with the other kids from neighbourhoods close by. It’s a bit difficult to explain how Guatemalan society works, how divided we used to be (I like to think things have changed a bit since the 90s – 2000s but maybe I’m wrong). I grew up in some sort of ghetto without knowing I lived in one. I was in my own bubble, my own social bubble in which my childhood friends lived in inclosed communities and in relatively wealthy neighbourhoods, and they had friends and same-age-cousins who to played with. My sister, brother and I grew up playing video games, and playing with our Barbies, Transformers and GI Joes at home. We didn’t ride bikes, go for walks or play soccer with “los de la cuadra” (kids from the block). As a kid and especially as a teenager, I always wanted to belong; I wanted to have lots and lots of friends. I always wanted to be part of the cool kids, and it’s a bit embarrassing to admit that I was the type of kid who would ask if I could come to your party. Again, I wanted to belong and “be cool”. I wasn’t aware of how different I was (and I still am) to those people I so wanted to hang with. I felt jealous, and envy people with a lot of friends and a busy social life (and I had the best of friends around me and went to birthday parties and clubs, but I wanted more!). And then I grew up and I was able to go wherever I wanted, to do whatever I wanted to do, even if it wasn’t “safe”. That’s when I realised how wrong I was in trying to be friends with all the people – and I never fit in anyways. I have always been a bit awkward. And that’s ok. I am so much happier when I hang around my friends who have always been there, who have always accepted me for who I was, and we still joke and have an awesome time together. But I spent years disliking my child and teenager versions of myself. I wasn’t a good sister and I could have been a better friend. Until I was around 30 is when I started to make peace with the person I once was. There were a lot of things I didn’t like about me, and when I started working on myself it’s when I realised I was just the product of a society who taught me what was “cool” and what was uncool, and I was just there trying to make it for for me. I was so lucky to have grown in a caring family. My parents were always there, my siblings have always been there. I needed to accept my young me, and to tell myself “I love you”. I forgive you. I engaged in so many self destructive activities, but all of that made me the person I am here, today. And I embrace that. I forgive myself for who I was and what I did, but I survived. I am here, as happy, grateful and thankful for all my life as I can be. Since my 20s, I like to think I knew a lot of people and people knew who I was, but friends… friends are still counted with “one hand” as my parents used to say. And I am grateful for everyone of them. I am still trying to embrace my awkwardness, my full self, as I have always felt I had a double life – I have never wanted to look too weird but I never looked too cool anyways, I want to be “good” but I want to be “bad” sort-of-feeling. I don’t think I can still show my true self but I am working on it. I still need to break that barrier of a double moral society, a christian society that I grew up in. Anyways, I still don’t fit in feminists circles, I still don’t fit in the musician circles, I still don’t fit in the artists and photographers circles, but now I have a better idea of who I am, and who I want to hang around with. And I love myself. Here is an awkward photo of me.
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I am grateful for my father’s influence in art, especially photography and all the women photographers that have influence me. You need to check out the work of a few of them: Dora Maar, Lee Miller, Katy Horna, Francesca Woodman.
Beautiful, Carlota! I was in Guatemala last year and stayed in the capital a few days. It had been almost 20 years since I’d been there. Driving in and out of ‘la capital’ was such an experience of micro-neighborhood bubbles, wealth/poverty, safe/dangerous & everything in between. I was stunned by the traffic and its effects on people’s lifestyles & opportunites to spread their wings. I still think about it some days.
Over my life, I’ve often pondered what my life would have been like had my parents stayed in Guate….society is so different in many ways, neither better or worse just different. I imagine moving to Western Australia was an adjustment in many ways & it’s great you are reflecting on life. I admire your candor and you have a beautiful writing style. Your ability to take self portraits that reflect your soul is really quite amazing. Keep clicking and keep loving yourself.
Vicki…! I was just telling my husband about the only memory I had of you… cooking sushi! (I love sushi now, not so much back in the day!). Guate is such an interesting, intense place. I totally get what you say and traffic has just gotten worse and worse every year, and you can see how people act and react to it. People I know share stories and reflexions about life in traffic… it’s crazy. Moving to Australia was huge, it still spins me out how much of an ‘alternate universe’ it feels like. I still carry with me my some sort of violent/protective/defensive behaviour, which I have tried to “relax” – but I feel I just don’t want to let go because I will be just like a seating duck every time I go back – I guess I just can’t. My husband and my bandmates are amongst the people I deal with the most, and it’s hard for them to understand my position when it come to “hiding keys” and leaving cars unlocked, and lowering my guard while dealing with people I don’t know… I don’t know… It’s been a journey. And thank you, thank you very much for your words. I shed a tear or two while reading it.