From a symbol of my citizenship to a manifesto for the life I deserve
For a long time, I held onto someone because of who I thought they could be. I believed they would bridge my cultures, provide safety, and stand beside me to conquer the world. But clarity has come with time: I wasn’t fighting for who they truly were — I was fighting for the dream I had built around them.
And that dream wasn’t wrong. It was beautiful. It was worthy. But it doesn’t belong to them. It belongs to me.
The Hat That Hurt
Recently, I saw something that unsettled me: a photo of someone I once thought I would marry wearing the Cubs cap I gave to them. Not just any cap, but the one I received at Wrigley Field during my naturalization ceremony — the day I became a U.S. citizen.
That cap is not just fabric and stitching. It is a living symbol of one of the biggest milestones in my life. It carries all the pride, sacrifice, and resilience that went into becoming a citizen. To see it displayed on someone else’s head — even as part of their public image — felt like they were walking around with a piece of my story.
And that is why it hurt so much. Because this is not about the cap. It is about what it represents.
But here’s the truth: no matter where that cap goes, it will never hold the real story. The years of effort I poured into becoming a citizen, the resilience, the sacrifice, the journey — that belongs to me. Always.
So I’ve decided: I will reclaim the symbol. Maybe I’ll buy myself a new Cubs cap — one that’s mine alone, untouched by old associations. Maybe I’ll mark it with the date of my naturalization, so every time I wear it, I’ll feel my own strength instead of someone else’s shadow.
My Manifesto
I want a life where love is not uncertain, where a partner chooses me every single day — not out of convenience, but out of devotion.
I want a partner who understands that I am anxious, passionate, and deeply emotional. Someone who does not see these as flaws to fix, but as truths to hold with gentleness.
I want peace. I want community. I want a family that feels like home, built on love and respect, where safety and security are never in question.
I want to feel accomplished, not just in career or education, but in the way I live. I want to be proud of the bridges I build between cultures, the communities I nurture, and the dreams I bring to life.
Most of all, I want to be the owner of my time. To live freely, to invest my energy in what matters most, and to share my life with someone who stands beside me — not above me, not behind me, but with me.
This is my vision. This is my truth. I will no longer fight for someone who cannot or will not fight for me. I am reclaiming the dream, not the person. I am building the life I deserve, one choice at a time.
Reclaiming Myself
This experience has reminded me of something bigger: healing often means reclaiming the pieces of ourselves that got tangled up with someone else. It means remembering that the story was never theirs to hold. It was always ours.
So yes, I was upset when I saw that cap. But my upset is also clarity. It tells me how much I value my story, my milestones, and my right to own them fully.
And that’s something no one can take away.
✨ Reflection for You
As I step into this vision for myself, I want to ask you: What do you truly want in love and in life?
Not what you’ve been told to settle for, not what others expect of you, but what your heart whispers when you’re quiet enough to listen.
Take a moment. Write it down. Speak it out loud. Claim it. Because the life you deserve begins with the courage to name it.
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