I'm an overthinker by nature, but I'm also a human which means that I'm ruled by habits.
I'm part of the crowd following the FIFA World Cup 2026, when suddenly my feed is disrupted and shows me a collapsed building. When I see it my body clamps. I suddenly feel the crunch of broken glass under my feet, while I walk pregnant as fast as I can towards my grandma's house…
September 19th 2017 started like a regular day that we all knew included Mexico's yearly earthquake drill. As always we shared our memories of some mild earthquakes that we had experienced. We learned what we were supposed to do if an event like this happened — which was mainly wait, and wait, and wait some more… I was on a 7th floor in a 20+ floor building and they evacuated top to bottom.
When it was finally our turn we exited the building, formed a line and followed someone to a park where there were a couple of basketball courts, and once again we waited for our turn to go back.
It was a hot day and after being in the sun I just wanted to drink water, use the restroom and get back to work. I was sitting when the movement hit, I decided to flush but skipped washing my hands… don't ask me why, it just made sense right then. I stumbled through the movement to the load-bearing wall now turned into a prayer wall (90 seconds that felt like a lifetime… and that unbeknownst to some it actually was). While waiting to be let out I remember seeing smoke in the distance, I tried and tried and tried calling my husband, my dad, my mom, my grandma… to no avail.
When I turn to my grandma's street my dad sees me and he hugs me like never before. I was the only one that hadn't been accounted for, he was on his way to my office. My grandma is sitting on a chair in the sidewalk, she tears up when she sees me, and I do too.
I love Vozinha's results as Cabo Verde debuts in the 2026 World Cup...
There's a shirtless man receiving a baby that has been pulled out of the debris. And once again I go back… I'm in front of one of the fallen buildings staring at a blanket that a couple of hours earlier was cuddling someone, there's a frame of a family whose life just changed forever, there's the remains of a crib… I stop watching I need to DO something. A line forms and they begin passing stones from hand to hand, people show up and start to organize.
And sometimes they do, and we cheer for a second and get hope to keep helping.
Since I can remember whenever a BIG tragedy hit the world we start organizing help, no matter how far the need is. I associate these tragedies with tuna cans... I know it's weird, but hear me out. In Mexico we used to buy tuna cans and other necessities and we brought them to school, church or a store. We would write encouraging messages for those who would receive them. We sent them as a token of our love and in the hope to bring them hope. We were programmed to DO something.
Now I live in the USA and they have a big culture here for giving and volunteering and showing up for others. But I still feel the need to buy my tuna cans and diapers and write notes and send love in a physical token… and I haven't found how to channel that urge. Yes, I can go and donate and trust that someone somewhere will buy what's most needed. But I feel weird about it, I don't know why. And maybe that's the overthinker in me, looking for the perfect way to help instead of just doing it.
June 24th 2026 started like a regular day for Venezuelans and ended up with people feeling the broken glass under their feet (at least the "lucky ones"). If you've never had to walk over broken glass, be grateful, if you've never had to hold your breath to listen to someone else's, be grateful. I'm still looking for an outlet for my heart to grief while my hands spread hope and help.
I might have find what I was looking for...
On September 19, 1985 — exactly 32 years before the earthquake I experienced while pregnant with my son — my mom was pregnant with me. Cellphones didn't exist and for hours she didn't know my father's fate. When he finally came home, he was covered in dust, with a distant gaze after helping get people out for countless hours. He still doesn't speak about what he saw.
Maybe that's why I'm so moved to support Topos of Mexico (the Mexican Moles). This organization was born out of the rubble of that same earthquake. From a person who was so deeply shaken that he built a way to prepare others for the next disaster. He turned heartbreak into training, so that when the time comes, more hands are ready to do something when it counts the most.
It may not be a tuna can with a handwritten note, but it's the closest I found to bring me back home.