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#womanintranslationmonth , swipe for my special guest 🐶

As august comes slowly to an end I reflect on the 📚 I have had the pleasure of loosing myself in and the ones yet to come.

Words written by women who are able to teach by letting us have a pick at the inner and outer worlds, and the translators that make that possible.

But this year #womanintranslation comes to me with a realization, one I have never been able to truly make:

“Femininity” has always been tied (for me) to the perception of how elegant, soft or graceful I feel others perceive me. All these qualities I have always believed and still believe, are opposite of what describes me.

7 years ago the sense of none femininity (and the constant pursue of it) was part of what made me shrink my body. The search to be the delicate creature I had always built up in my head, the desire to ultimately move away from the self I so despised, nearly cost my own life.

Today I try , for the first time since then, to let go of that desire (which nonetheless still resides in me day after day) and allow myself with anxiety and so much fear, to take more space.

In this WIT month, coinciding as it always does with my birthday, I am choosing to seek the words of these women (and of any gender to come), to seek the femininity of their creativity, the emotions that bleed the pages, the intelligence and wit which they take us through the hidden journeys .

How powerful all of these is, how there is no need to see a body, nor how they present themselves outside the pages to ultimately experience the grace of all of them ♥️

#womanintranslationmonth , swipe for my special guest 🐶

As august comes slowly to an end I reflect on the 📚 I have had the pleasure of loosing myself in and the ones yet to come.

Words written by women who are able to teach by letting us have a pick at the inner and outer worlds, and the translators that make that possible.

But this year #womanintranslation comes to me with a realization, one I have never been able to truly make:

“Femininity” has always been tied (for me) to the perception of how elegant, soft or graceful I feel others perceive me. All these qualities I have always believed and still believe, are opposite of what describes me.

7 years ago the sense of none femininity (and the constant pursue of it) was part of what made me shrink my body. The search to be the delicate creature I had always built up in my head, the desire to ultimately move away from the self I so despised, nearly cost my own life.

Today I try , for the first time since then, to let go of that desire (which nonetheless still resides in me day after day) and allow myself with anxiety and so much fear, to take more space.

In this WIT month, coinciding as it always does with my birthday, I am choosing to seek the words of these women (and of any gender to come), to seek the femininity of their creativity, the emotions that bleed the pages, the intelligence and wit which they take us through the hidden journeys .

How powerful all of these is, how there is no need to see a body, nor how they present themselves outside the pages to ultimately experience the grace of all of them ♥️

~
BIG life update + belated August wrap up 📚

Mid September and I am just posting my August wrap up 🤦🏻‍♀️

But more than a wrap up today I am going to make a pretty(surprise!) personal life update post. Sorry in advance for the long (probably messy) rant coming 😂

As some of you know, at the end of June I came to L.A to visit my family. Until the week prior I wasn’t sure I could do it, my mental health was hitting a new low and the thought of a month traveling, away from my “controlled “ tiny bubble of self-isolation, was enough to send me into a near panic attack.

Encouraged by the importance of spending time with my grandma while I still can, I decided to go with the old “feel the fear and do it anyway”

3 days ago I hugged my mom goodbye in the airport before she boarded a flight back to Madrid, one I was supposed to embark too, yet here I am still.

As an avid reader of literature I find it harder each time to not see plot twists coming when reading a 📖 Yet I am currently in the middle of my own life’s unexpected turn, one I by no means expected and which to be honest I haven’t yet fully stopped and understood myself.

The day I decided to stay I had nothing set: no 🏡 , no job, not even a clear idea of how to afford the basicsI had left behind in Madrid 👕. Fear and anxiety high knowing my bank account isn’t by all means set to start a new life.

But in the matter of weeks the pieces rapidly and serendipitously are coming together. I have moved to a room in the family home of the first and most amazing bookseller @thephantomtrain who I met when browsing my now “local” indie bookstore a month ago. Now my home is full of 📚 I can only hope to have the time and headspace to read soon 😅

I was offered to work as a personal assistant for just 8 days in the 🎥 industry, a job I’ve never done or imagined I would fall into (least of all in L.A) but one that has already brought other gigs my way in the fascinating and hectic industry of entertainment.

Highly grateful and yet in shock, all these is not to say I am not still battling my mental health day after day.

Cnt. In comments/TW- mental health struggles and Anorexia recovery 👇🏼👇🏼

~
BIG life update + belated August wrap up 📚

Mid September and I am just posting my August wrap up 🤦🏻‍♀️

But more than a wrap up today I am going to make a pretty(surprise!) personal life update post. Sorry in advance for the long (probably messy) rant coming 😂

As some of you know, at the end of June I came to L.A to visit my family. Until the week prior I wasn’t sure I could do it, my mental health was hitting a new low and the thought of a month traveling, away from my “controlled “ tiny bubble of self-isolation, was enough to send me into a near panic attack.

Encouraged by the importance of spending time with my grandma while I still can, I decided to go with the old “feel the fear and do it anyway”

3 days ago I hugged my mom goodbye in the airport before she boarded a flight back to Madrid, one I was supposed to embark too, yet here I am still.

As an avid reader of literature I find it harder each time to not see plot twists coming when reading a 📖 Yet I am currently in the middle of my own life’s unexpected turn, one I by no means expected and which to be honest I haven’t yet fully stopped and understood myself.

The day I decided to stay I had nothing set: no 🏡 , no job, not even a clear idea of how to afford the basicsI had left behind in Madrid 👕. Fear and anxiety high knowing my bank account isn’t by all means set to start a new life.

But in the matter of weeks the pieces rapidly and serendipitously are coming together. I have moved to a room in the family home of the first and most amazing bookseller @thephantomtrain who I met when browsing my now “local” indie bookstore a month ago. Now my home is full of 📚 I can only hope to have the time and headspace to read soon 😅

I was offered to work as a personal assistant for just 8 days in the 🎥 industry, a job I’ve never done or imagined I would fall into (least of all in L.A) but one that has already brought other gigs my way in the fascinating and hectic industry of entertainment.

Highly grateful and yet in shock, all these is not to say I am not still battling my mental health day after day.

Cnt. In comments/TW- mental health struggles and Anorexia recovery 👇🏼👇🏼

Messy musings 🖊

I’d planned to post a real life updateexplaining my absolute absence on bookstagram since I blindly decided not return to Europe in favor of ☀️ California.

And yes an update is still a long post I’m hoping to soon write. Wanting to share with all of you the changes that fast and serendipitously have landed me into a beautiful path full of books, creativity and depth.

As a mental health sufferer all these changes do come with a bittersweet taste though, one I want to share today.

This is the anxiety that comes with surrendering & living with the unknown day after day. Letting go of the isolated and deceiving bubble created around myself in the past 6 years of illness is to this day the most frightening leap of faith I have ever taken.

I’m fully releasing the tight grip around my damaging & dark tiny world, that even though it sadly came with no room for the beauty of unpredicted life changing surprises, allowed me to live with a deceiving sense of control.

But this blind jump has gifted me my true core value back, one illness had stolen from me: The space for real connection with pure hearted and caring humans. I believe this has unconsciously always been the main fuel for my willingness to keep fighting in favor of life.

I’m truly reconnecting with my loved ones & adding people to an ever growing family.

The same way I have not been able to make the time yet to fully re-engage with this bookish community (something I find highly guilt producing) I’ve also not been able, mostly due to our hectic lives atm & a 9h time difference, to be in contact as much with my 👯‍♂️ @booked.monika

Yet throughout this month she has sent me surprising books that have hidden messages I didn’t even know I needed myself at this time, an encouraging and beautiful love language from her, a reminder she is rooting for me in every step no matter where ♥️

I’ve already read the two gorgeous non-fiction by Ernaux (also my first @fitzcarraldoeditions 😍

Currently deeping into “Insomnia “ by Marina Benjamin, a state I have battled myself for years. The book pub by @catapult comes with a breathtaking cover by @nlcaputo , whose work I follow & truly admire 💫

📖 Review- Assembly by @wordsbynatasha stunningly published by @penguinhamishhamilton 🔥

Few Literary Fiction 📚 have the power for me to mix highly thought provoking narrative, important current themes, intensely relatable protagonists and a experimental brilliant form of writing.

Yet once in a while I discover a mind blowing gem such as Assembly by Natasha Brown and I’m reminded that, although I am an advocate to non-fiction, the power of a writer that can evoke viscerally my own day to day feelings by putting in motion fictional characters, is ultimately why I have loved literature throughout my entire life.

In Assembly we follow, in a fragmented stream of consciousness style, the day to day musings of an unnamed British black female working in the finance world. The 📕 takes place in a short period, as she is preparing to attend her white upper class boyfriend’s parents anniversary weekend celebration at their country house, this event being in it self the culmination of the story.

Among all the highly urgent themes Brown touches upon masterfully in barely 100 pages, the main one throughout the book is the British colonialism still hiding at plain sight in this supposedly modern era.

Not being able to speak about this concrete conflict through the own voices that unfortunately live through this day after day, I am thankful to books like this debut by Brown for giving me the chance to experience, as much as I can through her protagonist’s actions and reflections,the consequences of society’s hypocrisies once again.

Yet, as a daughter of first immigrants, what I was able was to truly connect to that sense of “otherness” throughout the book.

And, most importantly with a theme don’t tend to see that much discussed: The self imposed unrealistic goals that come with the feeling of having to live up to our ancestors hard fight to give us a “better future”

A fight , we as the new generation, unconsciously feel obliged to honor through our own life achievements. A duty that comes most of the time attached with shame and guilt, as we never truly feel we rich that unrealistic perfection we tend to strive towards.

Cont. in comments 👇🏻👇🏻

Confession time 📚 🖊

As August is coming to an end I find myself reflecting on the amazing translated voices I have gotten myself lost in this past month. Maybe because my 🎂 falls in August I have received a handful of translated gems (several hauls coming soon 🤞🏻) and while I have prioritized WIT this month I am far from done with my tbr.

I don’t think I am alone in the feeling of “last week of the month rush”, a mental exercise of how many translated books I will be able to add to my “August Wrap Up”, a post which may be searching for a self reassurance that I am reading “consciously”

Yet while trying to cramp up numbers I found myself realizing that, in reality, this act was falling far from what I believe to be ultimately my core values.

This past months I have stated many times how I wish to come out of my comfort zone, not just in my own life but also in regards to my reading. Yet unconsciously, I have been focusing on the genre of the books, forgoing such an important fact, more so being a multiracial female myself, of truly exploring work in other languages outside of English, even the ones written by authors with whom I share the same tongue.

After a wonderful conversation a few days ago with the kind hearted @radliteraryflights where I am grateful she, unconscious of the musings roaming my mind, told me about her own quest to read outside her comfort zone, I truly thought of what that means to me and realizing that continuing with the exploration of Translated Lit all year around is the link missing. Again, who better to relate to that with voices, who like my own, are not the commonEnglish accustomed to?

So atm I have the pleasure of starting my first two Kawakami’s novels: Strange Weather in Tokyo with @radliteraryflights and The Nakano Thrift Shop (ebook) with @paulineisreading , I can’t ask for better reading companions than these brilliant women who day to day showcase their profound love for WIT💓

I’m also diving into a male voice with Comemadre by @roquelarraquy lent to me by my wonderful friend and “in flesh” Translated Lit expert @thephantomtrain ,who day after day,introduces me to so many new and unknown voices 🙏🏼

♥️

Part 1 of a dedicated birthday book haul 🎁 ♥️

This will be the first part of another rather personal post (surprise 😅)

During my birthday week I received 2 massive boxes from someone who I may not mention as much here. This is not because our friendship is not a huge part of my life, but rather because, even if we talk books and 📚 first connected us, they are no longer the core of our bond.

@perksofstef as become to this day one of the biggest supporters of my day to day “craziness” , most days I am lucky enough to be able to FaceTime her and see her (highly) contagious smile 🤳 💓

Long conversations full of laugh out loud moments, shared insecurities, some whining(mostly on my behalf 🤦🏻‍♀️) and future plans both on our own or (hopefully soon 🤞🏻) together.

But most importantly, a time spent within a genuine mutual caring I believe few friendships in life have the magic to grow into.

Today I wanted to share some of the books in her massive birthday haul, those she thoughtfully sent me knowing how important woman in translation is for me, giving me a chance to continue reading them way past #witmonth is over 🙏🏼

So in an attempt to not get overly cheesy as I know I will most likely receive a call shortly by her where undoubtedly, yet lovingly, I will be made fun of... 🙄😂

I just wanted to say:

Thank you Steffi. For walking this new journey remotely next to me, for being the best at finding anything I ask for online and tempting me to start treating myself to pretty things, for not laughing too much when things are still too “Americanized” for me and having the unbelievable patience to help me understand them little by little, for sharing your own insecurities in an attempt to show me we are in this together, and lastly of course, for helping with your unmeasurable kindness to get closer to the goal of having to also use my future closet as a storage for books 😅

I love you, gal♥️

#friendship

•••

So tell me friends, any of these in your tbr? Any I can tempt you to buddy read? Let me know below! 👇🏻

📖

Review~ Swimming Home by Deborah Levy

Just under 160 pages, the plot of Levy’s novella seems, at first glance, simple. The Jacobs family, with their young teenage daughter, are staying in a French Villa along with another couple of friends.

But within the first pages enters Kitty, a beautiful, young, alluring woman who, without notice, is swimming naked in the Villa’s pool.

The entire book deals with the consequences this event has in the span of a week. What results is a sublime character study, both in regards to the reaction each person has towards the intruder's presence, and most importantly, the suppressed emotions each of them have buried deep in their subconscious that flourish to the surface in the presence of the uninvited guest.

From the beginning, Kitty is introduced as a highly mentally unstable character, yet the book in my opinion is not about the why’s of said problems. Levy geniously introduces Kitty as the holder of the mirror that will push the other characters to the edge. She is the ghost of the past, the gunshot that forces them to surrender and face the darkness that we all, even the seemingly “normal”, have inside.

As a mental health sufferer myself, I believe this is where the book shines. Often we believe that only those who society perceives as unstable by preconceived notions are the true ill, yet mental illness can be part, unconsciously or not, of many people we cross in our daily life.

Multigenerational trauma, infidelity, desire, class, depression, eating disorders and the power of written words are just some of the themes touched in this multilayered and experimental read. With an elegant and highly atmospheric prose, Levy masterfully sustains a steady sense of unease throughout the narration, a hypnotically melodramatic and whimsical momentum that grabs from the first sentence until the end.

A truly spellbinding little gem, intricate yet contained enough to allow the reader to dwell in its thought provoking mystery, hopefully raising uncomfortable inner questions that will linger long after finishing the book ⭐️

TW in the comments 👇🏼

Grateful thoughts 📚🎈

As a birthday week full of plans comes to an end I find myself reaching back yet again to the comfort of my books.

With my sudden decision to stay in the U.S only 7 books came along with me from Spain. In this time of transition, in which I have yet to build a life from the ground, leaving my bookshelf behind feels like leaving the only piece that has ground me always, wherever I went.

The sight of their spines and pages, some bitten and some new waiting to be discovered, always giving me a sense of grounding and most of all a sense that, no matter what, I had something that I had build, something that was my own when nothing else felt stable.

Jokingly I said I was going to start clean here and get myself 30 books for my thirties. A dreamy wish, not too realistic for a yet jobless and houseless human being 😅

Little did I know that this community would, yet again, grant me a wish.

During this week package after package have been showing up at my family’s home here addressed to me. What I thought would be a couple of books ended up being exactly 28, allowing me to add two more and, together with all of you beautiful souls, make my birthday wish a reality.

With your kindness and these books comes again my own grounding, in the middle of all the anxiety filled “what if’s “ I again have new spines and new discoveries to run back to every time I need so.

As the beautiful present by my cousin @mychristmaspuppy_elvis says (third picture) each of you are part of the new “library of Mariam Pirouz” , I won’t truly ever be able to put into words what this means to me...

I will be doing little birthday hauls throughout the upcoming weeks, in hopes of addressing each book and the wonderful human who sent it my way 🙏🏼

But for now thank you for granting me this wish, thank you for helping me realize that no matter what this community, the ever giving tenderness and our mutual love for books will always have my back ♥️

Grateful thoughts 📚🎈

As a birthday week full of plans comes to an end I find myself reaching back yet again to the comfort of my books.

With my sudden decision to stay in the U.S only 7 books came along with me from Spain. In this time of transition, in which I have yet to build a life from the ground, leaving my bookshelf behind feels like leaving the only piece that has ground me always, wherever I went.

The sight of their spines and pages, some bitten and some new waiting to be discovered, always giving me a sense of grounding and most of all a sense that, no matter what, I had something that I had build, something that was my own when nothing else felt stable.

Jokingly I said I was going to start clean here and get myself 30 books for my thirties. A dreamy wish, not too realistic for a yet jobless and houseless human being 😅

Little did I know that this community would, yet again, grant me a wish.

During this week package after package have been showing up at my family’s home here addressed to me. What I thought would be a couple of books ended up being exactly 28, allowing me to add two more and, together with all of you beautiful souls, make my birthday wish a reality.

With your kindness and these books comes again my own grounding, in the middle of all the anxiety filled “what if’s “ I again have new spines and new discoveries to run back to every time I need so.

As the beautiful present by my cousin @mychristmaspuppy_elvis says (third picture) each of you are part of the new “library of Mariam Pirouz” , I won’t truly ever be able to put into words what this means to me...

I will be doing little birthday hauls throughout the upcoming weeks, in hopes of addressing each book and the wonderful human who sent it my way 🙏🏼

But for now thank you for granting me this wish, thank you for helping me realize that no matter what this community, the ever giving tenderness and our mutual love for books will always have my back ♥️

Grateful thoughts 📚🎈

As a birthday week full of plans comes to an end I find myself reaching back yet again to the comfort of my books.

With my sudden decision to stay in the U.S only 7 books came along with me from Spain. In this time of transition, in which I have yet to build a life from the ground, leaving my bookshelf behind feels like leaving the only piece that has ground me always, wherever I went.

The sight of their spines and pages, some bitten and some new waiting to be discovered, always giving me a sense of grounding and most of all a sense that, no matter what, I had something that I had build, something that was my own when nothing else felt stable.

Jokingly I said I was going to start clean here and get myself 30 books for my thirties. A dreamy wish, not too realistic for a yet jobless and houseless human being 😅

Little did I know that this community would, yet again, grant me a wish.

During this week package after package have been showing up at my family’s home here addressed to me. What I thought would be a couple of books ended up being exactly 28, allowing me to add two more and, together with all of you beautiful souls, make my birthday wish a reality.

With your kindness and these books comes again my own grounding, in the middle of all the anxiety filled “what if’s “ I again have new spines and new discoveries to run back to every time I need so.

As the beautiful present by my cousin @mychristmaspuppy_elvis says (third picture) each of you are part of the new “library of Mariam Pirouz” , I won’t truly ever be able to put into words what this means to me...

I will be doing little birthday hauls throughout the upcoming weeks, in hopes of addressing each book and the wonderful human who sent it my way 🙏🏼

But for now thank you for granting me this wish, thank you for helping me realize that no matter what this community, the ever giving tenderness and our mutual love for books will always have my back ♥️

Review 📖

As the last weeks before my trip to America were coming up, my twin @booked.monika & I decided to start the buddy reading “The Performance” by @drclaireet which Monika kindly gifted me ♥️🙏🏼

For a deeper analysis of the book itself. Focusing on the intertextually that this masterpiece encapsulates I would highly encourage you to check out Monika’s brilliant review 😍

But I will be discussing here why I both adored & at times felt a hint uncomfortable while reading Thoma’s novel. This last feeling is for me one of the great indicators of the strenght and cleverness of a novel.

I believe in the power of books “falling” into your hands at the precise moment meant to be read. Surrounded by luggage, last minute appointments and decisions that added to my already chronically anxious state of being, I was introduced through this novel to three fascinating, flawed and highly relatable women from three different generations all attending the performance of Beckett’s “Happy Days” the same night.

Yet their connection is far beyond the space and time they coincide at. They all are facing their own internal struggles, each externalizing them differently in the outside yes, yet the same overlying anxiety, shame, self-expectations and the judgmenttowards one own that comes when feeling set prospects are not met is present in each one of them.

And it is here that the book feels raw. It is a masterful character study where I believe each reader will be able to, at times distressfully so, find themselves in some way or another.

As for the writing itself it is highly compelling & smart. Managing to intertwine the more absurd yet devastating tone of the play itself, with the three distinct voices of the protagonist that, whiles dealing with the same underlying themes, each is true to their generational differences and their own unique personal life experiences.

Thomas has created an urgent novel that explores in such a nuanced way the insecurities, anxieties and the stablished “should’s” both being a female, & a human, in this messy ever changing world intakes.

I am eager to find out what this exceptional Australian writer comes up with next 💓

Currently reading/thinking 📚 🖊

Today is an exciting and bittersweet day.

This is not by all means the post I have planned to celebrate my third decade writing my own messy (yet surprising) journey in this planet. A week of MANY celebrations are coming and I am hoping to finish it up with a post to make all of you part of it.

My twenties, like I have said many times over here, have not been at all a joyful journey. With that, birthdays weren’t something I wanted to celebrate, I chose many times my ED, depression and anxiety to be the only guests on this day, isolation always being very daunting and lonely yet, unfortunately, a safe bet.

But this is the year I have allowed kindness and love from all the beautiful souls around me, both here and in my physical day to day, to enter back again.

Heart thumping with fear and anxiety I have said yes to the many plans suggested and even encouraged myself to make some of them, ending up with “a week long” of celebrations that, even though feel indulging and as not deserved, I want to believe will make up for all those years saying no both to myself and my loved ones ♥️

But of course books won’t be set aside, I may not have the headspace for as many reviews or reads as I wish but nevertheless I am entering my 30s with these two gems. Both read with two of my closest friends here as my own birthday gift to myself 🎁

Yesterday I received one (of the many) gifts my beautiful Steffi from @perksofstef has sent me 😢 Ghost Forest by @pikshuen with that STUNNING cover pub by @oneworldbooks

Steffi is someone I try to always have a reading going with, this gives me an excuse to continuously have the most random, funny yet heartfelt conversations throughout the day 😂♥️

The other read is The Cost of Living by Deborah Levy pub by @penguinukbooks with Natalie from @curiousreaderr

I have been lucky enough to do my first buddy read with her on this book and at this important transition time, both Levy and her being the highly inspirational souls they are 😍

For now I am starting this week with this brief #currentreads and a quick (immense) thank you for all the messages and books you are spoiling me with already 🙏🏼♥️

TW on Mental Health- A LONG real update + a mini book haul 📚♥️

Some may have notice how since June my posts have become a bit more elusive, an underlining of anxiety very present in most of them.

The darkness that my head tends to run to was hitting once again, this time it came sudden & full force.

Words I was quite viscerally feeling day after day were desperation , fear and yes, at times, a real desire to surrender to my demons and accept finally defeat.

Mental health is a turbulent path, one difficult to communicate without seeming like a horror tale. But again, it is a reality and it is by no means pretty.

I was ready to check in into a psych ward again, scared of my own self and my willingness to go on. I’ve been fighting for years, and tiredness sometimes is overwhelming.

Thanks to the privilege of finding after years a psych whose guidance I trust more than my own we decided, with some added 💊 , to give me a break until I was ready to decide my next steps from a less stormy place.

In the midst of all my mom suggested to visit my family in L.A. who, since moving after a year of living there I hadn’t seen for near 3 years, my first answer was a big no. I wasn’t able to function like a human in my own city, I felt too ashamed to let my family see my own failure and fear once again.

After many going back and forth,I decided (despite the high anxiety and deep fear) to say yes to the trip. My psychologist encouraging me to find out my next steps in a new yet known environment.

& here is the plot twist I didn’t expect.

13h into our flight, ready to land & with the vision of L.A coming to sight from the ✈️ tears started flooding, a cry far beyond ugly, coming from my entire body without expecting it.

The understanding of the reality of the past years of isolation in Madrid hitting me hard, the loneliness, the desperation, the exhaustion.

I was landing back in a place that then and there I knew I had to give the chance to build my life finally in, a place to hopefully call home.

(Second 1/2 in the comments) 👇🏼👇🏼

TW on Mental Health- A LONG real update + a mini book haul 📚♥️

Some may have notice how since June my posts have become a bit more elusive, an underlining of anxiety very present in most of them.

The darkness that my head tends to run to was hitting once again, this time it came sudden & full force.

Words I was quite viscerally feeling day after day were desperation , fear and yes, at times, a real desire to surrender to my demons and accept finally defeat.

Mental health is a turbulent path, one difficult to communicate without seeming like a horror tale. But again, it is a reality and it is by no means pretty.

I was ready to check in into a psych ward again, scared of my own self and my willingness to go on. I’ve been fighting for years, and tiredness sometimes is overwhelming.

Thanks to the privilege of finding after years a psych whose guidance I trust more than my own we decided, with some added 💊 , to give me a break until I was ready to decide my next steps from a less stormy place.

In the midst of all my mom suggested to visit my family in L.A. who, since moving after a year of living there I hadn’t seen for near 3 years, my first answer was a big no. I wasn’t able to function like a human in my own city, I felt too ashamed to let my family see my own failure and fear once again.

After many going back and forth,I decided (despite the high anxiety and deep fear) to say yes to the trip. My psychologist encouraging me to find out my next steps in a new yet known environment.

& here is the plot twist I didn’t expect.

13h into our flight, ready to land & with the vision of L.A coming to sight from the ✈️ tears started flooding, a cry far beyond ugly, coming from my entire body without expecting it.

The understanding of the reality of the past years of isolation in Madrid hitting me hard, the loneliness, the desperation, the exhaustion.

I was landing back in a place that then and there I knew I had to give the chance to build my life finally in, a place to hopefully call home.

(Second 1/2 in the comments) 👇🏼👇🏼

🖊

As a daughter of Iranians, born in America & raised in Spain I live my day to day surrounded by languages: The one I speak at home & the ones I speak in my physical & online day to day. This comes with the cultural differences attached to each language.

Until recently English for me was a way to communicate to a small part of my family, to be able to read a wider range of 📚& to understand the lyrics of the songs that have made the soundtrack of my life.

But 4 months ago I joined this community & with that English became my common language with the diverse ethnicities that are part of it.

Most importantly it allowed me the opportunity to get to know someone who, even though I’ve not met in person yet, has become a big part of my life.

Someone who like me translates words from her own Lithuanian language in order to let me be part of her everyday.

We both become our own translators with the meaningful end of showing the respect, admiration & deep love we have for each other.

I believe this is one of the main reasons why both @booked.monika and me feel the need to share our mutual appreciation for woman in translation, specially (but not only) this month.

Language brought us together and our many cultures feed each other, thanks to them we learn from one and other, we see the world with multiple eyes and most importantly we share empathy as our main value, thanks to a non judgmental curious look towards other cultures differences.

As a tiny way to show Monika my own deep appreciation to HER as a powerful, kind hearted woman in translation I asked her to buddy read Olga Tokarczuk’s Flights translated by Jennifer Croft. An experimental novel which touches on identity and migration. Themes I believe important for both of us, ones I myself want to explore more of, specially next to her.

I know the open honesty about our own personal life experiences we always share will add one more layer of meaning to this reading &, most importantly, to our beautiful relation. A gift I am grateful for everyday ♥️

So, why do you celebrate WIT? Have you already read Flights? If you are thinking of picking it up, come back and let us know both your final thoughts ⭐️