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Right before midnight on April 16th, 1978 I flashed my behind, opened my mouth, and let out a loud, “What the fuck!” in baby talk. I was literally living my best life, doing backflips and breast strokes in amniotic fluid inside of my mother’s uterus.

I did not want to meet the world. Probably because I sensed I would have a rough and unstable childhood, the number of times I’d be heartbroken, and how much adulting would suck. (I’ve been intuitive since conception!) Mami’s doctor, however, had other plans. And that plan involved induction. For all those who do not know what inducing mean, it’s to:

a: move by persuasion or influence

b: call forth or bring about by influence or stimulation

Trust me when I say (Evan was also induced) that their persuasive tactics did not include waving a white chocolate and almond bar in front of my mother’s cuca. I would have slid right out after just one whiff. They pumped Mami with drugs, as they did me when I had Evan. I was literally forced out. Against my will.

Doctors could not and would not let me be great inside of my comfy home, which I’m sure I decorated with wall art. (Psst. You can get the wall art below in my Etsy shop.)

I’m not here to shit on gynecologists. They help bring life into this world! What I am saying is that many of us were born traumatically. And I think about that now. At almost 44 years young (in 2 days!), I wonder if how we are born affects our energy and essence and, therefore, our choices.

Would I feel the need to force romantic relationships into existence? Would I initiate change as forcefully as often I do? Would I be as blunt and direct as I am or would I flow easily and softly through life? Would I choose to be in relationships with people that are as hard on me as my birth was on my mother? Would I choose romantic partners that validate my feelings instead of partners that push me to be someone else? Would I still feel that I must do things by a certain timeline or feel like I’ve fallen behind and failed? Would I feel more seen and heard?

I will never know. Because right before midnight on April 16th, 1978, I was brought into this world by force.

What I do know is that my past cannot and will not continue to dictate my future. I am entering 44 fully and authentically myself. I am setting boundaries. Saying no if my intuition nudges me so. Saying yes when my heart and mind align. Shutting the door on past relationships and off-and-on romantic drama. Opening myself to love again when the right man comes along and only when he comes correct. Pursuing my passion for writing in a new way (romance novels!) with a new venture (revealing this is soon!).

And I’m excited. Truly excited for all the change and growth and to know that after all the drama, all the force, all the unrequited love and feelings of unworthiness, I’ve come into my own. At 44, I vow to live life my way even if I sometimes lead by force.

Go Shorty, It’s My Bday!

And I have a wish list :-) A simple BUY LOVE TRIPS request. Yes, in caps. Cause it’s my birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you to those who have already purchased and supported my writing with dinero.

Sujeiry Gonzalez

I Did Not Want to Meet the World (And It's My…