There’s something deeply sacred about writing a character who holds a piece of your truth—especially the parts you kept hidden, even from yourself.

In the final episode of The Why Behind the Bruja podcast series, I talk about how Marisol isn’t just a fictional character. She’s me. The hesitant girl who didn’t want to be seen. The woman still learning how to love herself without conditions. The bruja who carries power in her blood but sometimes doubts she deserves it.

Growing up with a lazy eye made me hyperaware of how people saw me—before they ever heard me speak or felt the warmth I carry. I wanted to hide. But I also wanted to shine. I’ve always lived in that tug-of-war: the desire to be invisible and the hunger to be witnessed. That tension shaped everything, including the way I write.

And it didn’t help that the world around me—like many Dominican girls—trained me to earn my worth through achievement, through behavior, through silence. Pride felt dangerous. Joy felt indulgent. Love had to be earned.

But I remember one moment. My mamá, fierce like Mamá Belén, holding my chin and saying:
“Don’t you dare walk with your head down. You’ll get a hump. And you don’t want that.”
So I held it up. Even when they laughed. Even when they called me a monster or a weirdo.
Eventually, I didn’t need her hand anymore.

That’s the beginning of self-love, right? Not the kind they sell you in affirmations, but the kind you fight for.
The kind you give to yourself not when you’re proud—but especially when you’re not.

That’s what The Ordinary Bruja is really about.

Marisol’s magic isn’t flashy.
It’s ancestral. Uncomfortable. Buried under years of self-denial and fear.
But it’s real. And it pulses in her even when she doesn’t believe she’s worthy of it.
Just like mine pulsed in me—during the pandemic, during the silence, during the writing of this book.

This episode is my full-circle moment. The confession and the celebration.
Because sometimes the story you’re telling is also the story you’re finally living.