I've been thinking (and writing) about how important the weird tias in our lives are. The ones that don't settle. The ones that listen to music not on the radio. And the ones that can rap and sing along to the nastiest songs. Y las que son trabajadoras, never relying on anyone else to pay their bills, their telephone bills, their automob-ills. Las artistas that create a casita studio in their homes. Las siempre solteras. Las que siempre tienen amores nuevos. The ones that travel and bring back stones and stories. The ones that listen to your secrets and give you advice that maybe your mom wouldn't appreciate, but it's the fucking truth. The ones that teach you about Frida and feminism and that sex is way more than just biology. Las poetas that pay attention in different ways. The ones that dress a little weird. Las que tienen purple hair y red hair y tambien salt & pepper hair. The ones that wear all the makeup. The ones that wear no makeup. The ones with the intriquite jewelry, big and bold and heavy.
The ones that gift you experiences instead of tangible presents.
These kinds of Tia's were my everything. My idols. And maybe, just maybe, I have become that Tia along the way.