Wednesday, July 10, 2013

We were Married in April,
I have already forgotten the date....
But there isn't a day that goes by that I am not so completely
happy that we did.
I don't think I have ever and will ever love anyone else.
I even wear my ring everyday...well...almost.
I am so truly happy being in love.
I thought it would be such a bore,
but it really isn't.


Friday, March 2, 2012

I was raised to expect unconditional love
I grew up feeling cherished and treasured
My parents never owned a piece of land
They never paid a last payment on anything.

I was raised to expect struggle
I grew up knowing how to do without
But NEVER did I feel like I wasn't my parents joy
I was always cared for with everything they had in all my weirdness.

I could look in my fathers eyes as a young girl and feel what part of me he recognized was him.
I could hear our happiness rising up out of my mother as her laughter filled the room.

Their only purpose was a monotany of working to live carefree...
Keep us from knowing...
Keep us from ever feeling restrained
Keep us from ever thinking we couldn't.

I look at my daughter
I never want her to expect anything less than
My unconditional love
My struggle

I want her to look into my eyes and recognize what part of her is me.
I want her to hear her happiness in my laughter.
I want her to know where I've been and the decisions I've made
All because I cherish her love and it's really all that I have.

I look at this child and I see all the pain she may not remember
I feel the relief that we got here without her knowing
How I had to shed every part of that little girl I once was
Thinking I was cherished and treasured...and it was all going to be so easy
I feel relief that we got here in one piece
and she gets to be that little girl
Who still believes that nothing is out of reach.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

tellin stories...



Everyone gets to have a story. The one they tell over and over: they tell how they became the success, the better half, the pride of someone's life...

I can tell you stories laced with triumph and glory...Standing tall instead of falling for anything.
I can tell you stories, but I can't connect any together to make THE story to make you believe in me as a success, someone's better half, or the pride of someone's life.

Sadly...I don't have a story. I am 28 years old, on the fast track in a big circle. I am, sadly in the same nook as I was in last year, tucked away telling the same exact story.

The only thing that's changed is no one wants to listen anymore, because at 28...with no success, no better half, or pride to be in someone's life the truth is, no one cares to hear your story.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Happy Holidays from Bex and Ev

This Christmas is going to be the best EVER. It always is. I love My Girl.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Look at who you've loved,
And who you were to love them.
Look at who you've lost,
And who you grew into in order to let go.
Are you still sane?
Probably not...

if you are, it wasn't love.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

the cringe factor

I still cringe everytime I hear my mother pronounce my name "REVVEEECKAH!!"
I specifically named my daughter a name that cannot be translated to spanish because my mother used to call out my name in spanish when I was a kid and it would make me so uncomfortable.
And now, I must admit that when I'm calling my daughter to do her homework and what not I say "VICKTORRRRRIA!!!" (rolling that "ERE"). That's her middle name and I sure do use it. She runs up to me smiling most of the time, and I know I'm doing my job. I'm raising my daughter to not be ashamed of the constant chance in our home that a R can be rolled here and there.

I still cringe everytime a statement in mid conversation starts with, "Your Dad...."
or I'm in a very rare occurance speaking of the man and I say, "My Dad..."
I think of all my insecurites because of that man. I can instantly feel my eardrum bouncing around in my head at the sound of his drunken insecurities shouting over our whole house. The screaming would grab hold of any comfort we may have felt in that home and squeezed out my childhood one small hesitant drop at a time. I cringe mostly at the memory of being 9 years old and falling asleep at night peacefully being kissed by my mother only to wake up in the middle of the night...to his shouting. No one should ever live like that. I cringe because there are people who do...still do.

I still cringe everytime I hear someone announce "BEXI BADFISH"
over a loud mic...at a rink in San Antonio. It never felt right...I don't play for the attention. I play to skate. I play because I enjoy the sport. I play because it is full contact and I can do it on skates. I play because when I was a kid, there was no place I'd rather be but at the skating rink in Seguin...aaaalllll weekend. I play because as a kid I was a damn good skater, and I never knew I could have done more with skating back then...at a rink in San Antonio. It doesn't feel right to be in front of the crowd...I usually hate the uniforms...but I love to skate. I am so greatful for the support that our fans, friends, and family show for us as derby players...but boy do I cringe when I hear "BEXI" outside of that pack.

I cringe when I hear (in person) anything about my writing. I always get positive vibes about the way I put things into words....but I never feel like its good enough. I write to make myself feel better because there's so much inside that can really get the best of me. I feel like I shouldn't be writing because I'm not educated enough...and maybe I'm not. I just have to use words like a puzzle to occupy my time and organize my emotions, because if I don't I'm a total wreck. So when you read a poem of mine...its actually me just orgainzing feelings...to reach a goal. I cringe because the whole point of writing is for others to read and relate...and its weird when others understand because as I'm writing I'm so sure no one will.

the cringe factor...you wouldn't be you without it...I'm not ashamed of it :)

I aint one to gossip...but lemme tell ya

You know that girl Rebecca, she is sooo funky.
She thinks she's all that.
She thinks she looks good wearing those clothes...
She's just trying to be what she's not
You know that girl Rebecca, she thinks she's so smart.
She talks about random shit all the time
She never makes any sense
She's a bookworm...and so uncool.
You know that girl Rebecca, she's so spoiled.
She has to have everything her way.
She's such a bitch about her standards
She's just trying to be what she's not
You know that girl Rebecca, she gets on my nerves.
With her thick ass ugly ass hair
She's fat she DOES NOT look cute in what she wears
She doesn't even care about all that grey hair
and all she wants to do is play rollerderby...dumb!

Now I aint one to gossip but lemme tell ya
You know that girl Rebecca, she's heard all of the above.
She has these things tattooed on her heart
She's a new generation of beaner...
and lemme tell ya...
....she's happy.

Now, repeat the above lines in the mirror and insert your own name
is your last line going to be 'she's happy' too?
...yeah didn't think so.

Gracias