How to stop judging life, experiences, and people based on 'labels'?

 Image by Taylor Miller via Posture Mag.

[Note: today’s post is written by guest star Juanita (of Latin YouTube sensation #AskJuanita).] 

Hello my beautiful people. How are you doing today? I hope you’re reading this in my fantabulous Latin accent because that’s how you going to get learned ok. That’s where the magic happens. Get outta ya head and into my salsa-loving-life so you can fully absorb the beauty of what I’m saying. 

A very special reader decided to write in about her problem with judging people. She be on Tinder and sh*t, struggling like the rest of us to avoid pics of men’s little monsters. She writes:

How can I stop judging life, experiences, and people based on ‘labels’? If I meet a guy on Tinder (just as an example), why is my automatic reaction to judge him based on the University, job title…etc.? What the f*ck (sorry for my language) should be a filter to get in touch with the person’s internal world? — The Sexy Duchess

This is a really good question my little bruja from the Netherlands, which is why I wanted to answer to it. People be thinking there are only a few key questions to determine if chulo from down the block is a player or not, if he’s gonna try to get you knocked up or if he’s going to take all your money and marry a stripper named Lulu. 

You might be wondering…

  1. Does he have a lot of money?
  2. How many babies he got?
  3. Does he have a tattoo of his mother’s name? Is it on his neck? 
  4. Can he take you to classy places like Red Lobster? 

I be wondering all these things too, mami. All the time. And I gotta tell you like I would tell mi gente, that none of that matters. 

People be wanting you to change for them. 

They say they like you but then they want you to be like Obama and sh*t and I can’t be handling that kind of pressure. I ain’t even black. Como voy a cumplir una meta tan grande como esa?!

But you know what? We do that sh*t to people too. They not the only ones double dippin’ them chicken McNuggets and lying about it, ok. 

Double dip. Dunkety dunk dunk. 

Clap clap cuz why not. 

Aight, let me tell you a little story

One time I met this boy down the street or whatever. He was cute. You know, a little gordito but he had this tutu and I wanted that sh*t. 

He told me he was a little boy and mami told me little boys don’t wear tutus. She said he was a mar*con (i.e. bad word for gay guy) and that I need to be spending time with people more elevated in their mental capacity. 

But Juanita don’t be listening to that bullsh*t. I liked his tutu and he always shared his caramelos with me. He didn’t make me feel stupid for being fabulous or for singing Selena and not shaving my legs. 

Carlos liked me even though I be sweating a lot and didn’t have a lot of friends. 

I can’t be swiping right for Carlos these days, though, because he be on Grindr and sh*t and he ain’t really into Juanita. 

Mami saw a tutu and said boys don’t wear that shit. 

I saw a friend who liked me no matter what. 

I felt good when I was around Carlos. I felt safe. I laughed. I farted a lot and blamed it on the dog and he didn’t say nothing. 

Carlos wore a tutu and I had hairy ass legs. 

The block said we were weirdos and threw rocks at us. 

I lit cat poop on fire on their stoops and did some bruja spells on their asses. 

So what does all of this mean?

You gotta get right with the parts of you that you don’t want nobody to see. You gotta move in the world the way you want to, tutu and all. You gotta face the fear that somebody might throw a rock at you and that even if they do, mami you gonna be aight. 

Tu me entiendes? 

Al fin del día, el filtro es tu corazón y la magnitud de amor que te mantienes por tu misma. And if you don’t speak Spanish because you white like that, I said that at the end of the day, the filter is your heart and the amount of love that you keep for yourself.

It starts there, puta. The rest you figure out as you be fabulous on the footsteps of life. 

Juanita’s out. xo


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Image by Taylor Miller via Posture Mag.