Natural Born Inheritance

Oh Dad,

I understand so many things now—why I was born this way. I am just like you. Big emotions. Immense passion. Rebellious for no cause other than truth itself.

Just like you, I have never backed down from those who tried to define me. You stood up to your parents; I have spent my life standing up to systems, expectations, and the unspoken rules of how I am supposed to communicate, act, or exist. We were never meant to fit neatly into expectations, were we? We never really belonged.

For years, I blamed you and Mom for so many things. I thought if I could name the pain, I could fix it. But healing has a strange way of shifting perspective. I now see this fire—this boldness, this intensity—as my inheritance. My natural-born inheritance.

It shows up everywhere, especially in my work.

No matter how much I try to tone down my personality, my passion always finds its way to the surface. My communication skills—sharp, direct, and unapologetically honest—often lead, even when I wish they would whisper. I’ve tried every version of myself: the softer one, the patient one, the diplomatic one. Yet somehow, it is never enough.

It’s a repeating pattern—one I now understand better through you.

You were the same way. Misunderstood not because you were wrong, but because you were too much for people who lived in boxes you refused to fit into.

I get it now. I’ve spent years trying to prove that being passionate and expressive can coexist with professionalism. But maybe that’s the wrong goal. Maybe the lesson is that there is strength in being both emotional and composed, outspoken and thoughtful. Maybe the world simply needs to catch up.

Thank you for raising us outside the grasp of your family. They never believed you deserved your rightful place; they denied your worth and your name. You let them, but I won’t. They will not trample on my rights. I am not Esau, and Jacob will not deceive me.

Maybe we will never get what was truly yours. Maybe we will never be accepted or loved the way we should have been. But you made sure we learned something far more valuable—unity. You taught us to stand together, to protect one another when no one else would.

For that, I am forever grateful.

Thank you for making me a Serra Castillo.

Reflection

As I move through my professional life, I’m beginning to understand that my voice—just like yours—was never meant to shrink to fit the comfort of others. My ability to communicate with honesty, empathy, and conviction is not a flaw to correct; it is a reflection of lineage. It’s how I honor the generations before me who were silenced, and how I stand firm for those who come after me.

I no longer apologize for my intensity. It is not a weakness to be managed—it is a birthright to be refined. And though it still takes courage to speak, I now know that every word I offer comes from something deeper than skill—it comes from inheritance.