Transitioning Away from Casa Mala

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I am contracting my life.
Getting rid of things that no longer fit into the small room I will share with my daughters for the next few months.
Not just physical items – like clothes that don’t fit, redundant appliances, books I never really liked, cheap flatware
but emotions, memories too
struggle.
The last 3 years have been an enormous struggle.
Left with Casita Mala – my small ass 1 bedroom apartment in a lovely hood of Queens, after my relationship with el chileno ended, has always been a struggle.
Paycheck to bounced check
utility shutoffs
mice
roaches
a nearly empty fridge
leaking
flooding
laughter
birthday parties
christmas dinners
wine
cigarettes
amigas
one night stands
short term lovers
lovers who never arrived
parejas you never want to leave
tears.


I cried the entire day I made the decision to leave Casa Mala. It felt like a failure of sorts. After all, I a 34 year old mother should be able to provide a roof over my daughters’ heads but the truth was that a bad summer has put me in such an economic hole that I can’t get out of under the current situation and I tried from looking for more work, to selling household items, to accepting gracious donations and support.
Pero ya
It wasn’t enough.
It’s not sustainable.
So I retreat
fold my life upon itself
methodically
neatly
and in a way that is minimally traumatic for all involved.

I’m not sad about it anymore.
I’m embracing it
wrapping up my life into small bundles that can easily be moved.
Its a short term solution towards a long term transformation I’m building towards.
And I’m not alone.

That makes all the difference

Casa Mala will rise again – perhaps with a new shared name to reflect a new shared reality – pero it will be born anew.

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