Finding My Way Back to My Roots (Poco a poquito)

Young Tanya with mi Mama Hermelinda <3

Every summer growing up, we’d head to my family’s hometown — Autlán, Jalisco. It should’ve felt like home… but honestly? I always felt kinda out of place.

My Spanish? Mid at best.

My love for Chiles Rellenos? Nonexistent then and still a nope now (sorry to mi abuelita — I said what I said).

And every time we’d climb the cerrito, I was the last one to make it to the top. After hours of whining and dramatic breaks, of course.

And while I look back at all of it with love and humor, I also recognize how disconnected I felt from my own cultura. I was the "American cousin" who didn’t totally get it — the jokes, the traditions, even the food sometimes. But the older I get, the more I realize: that distance? It doesn’t have to be permanent.

So I’m doing something about it.

I want to revisit my family history — not just the names and places, but the meaning behind them. I want to know why we celebrate the way we do, how our recipes came to be, what our land means to us, and how all of that shaped who we are.

Because it’s not just about me anymore. I want to know my roots so I can teach them to my future kids with pride — not just vibes. I want to stop feeling like a tourist in my own culture and start showing up as someone who belongs.

This blog is my way of bridging that gap — for me, for my family, and for anyone else who ever felt a little “ni de aquí, ni de allá.”If you’re on a similar journey — come through. Let’s reclaim our stories together.

Con corazón (y sin Chiles Rellenos),

-Tanya, your friendly First Genxican