Growing up in Colombia meant my world was painted in the brightest colors and soundtracked by the constant hum of life.
As a little girl growing up in Colombia, you internalize that you are made of the same stuff as the mountains (the Andes) and the same flow as the rivers (the Amazon). You are a product of mestizaje—the mixing of Indigenous endurance, Spanish structure, and African rhythm. as a little girl growing up in colombia
Breakfast was a ritual of efficiency and love. My mother would slice a arepa—crunchy on the outside, soft and buttery on the inside—and top it with hogao (a slow-cooked tomato and onion sauce) or a crumble of suero costeño. As a little girl growing up in Colombia, you learned quickly that food is the love language. A bandeja paisa wasn't just a plate; it was a declaration of abundance: beans, rice, chicharrón, avocado, fried egg, and plantain all fighting for space on a single platter. Growing up in Colombia meant my world was
I was standing in front of a mirror in my cousin’s apartment in Medellín. She was doing my makeup—eyeliner sharp as a razor, lipstick the color of a wounded fruit. Breakfast was a ritual of efficiency and love