To 2021 recently graduated me (one year ago):

You get a phone call from Harrison letting you know that you got into this program. It is wild, I know: you get the opportunity to focus on your writing, your craft, your calling, your passion! What a dream.

After graduation, the placelessness starts to set in; you are back home in LA and you begin to learn how hard it is going to be to have all your friends dispersed across the country, all living your own separate lives, no longer brought together by place.

And while you facetime with your friends every week, it is not the same as having a craving for wings and being a phone call away from getting buffalo-covered chicken with them in the next five minutes. Or going to Wendy’s for Frostys. Or walking to their houses whenever you wanted, to sit, and talk, and chill, and be blissful in company.

But I want you to know some people and experiences that make this move to Colorado worth it:

You will take your cat a pasear to a lake close to your apartment and have him sniff the water, dig holes, and chase bugs. This will help you realize that life is okay even after you feel alone when you sleep on your own for the first night in your new apartment.

You will meet your new roommate who is from El Paso and who you can rant about white supremacy with—it feels like a real home: comforting and safe and no need for explanations or ground-up teaching. Your own little consciousness-raising home. Your own little mundo zurdo.

You will hang out with the amazing people in your cohort almost every other weekend and feel grateful to eat delicious baked goods by a certain someone (who’s name starts with L and ends with O) which literally make your taste buds happy dance the way your body does 3 shots of tequila in.

You will leave these parties at a solid 11pm every time because you are, in fact, an old lady.

You will get tattoos with people you met on tinder (one of whom you will fall in love with and will teach you hella about healthy relationships) and then accidentally show them to your grandmother on facetime making for a horrifying 15 seconds before you realize that she can’t do anything about it.

You will have introvert parties where Julia makes baked goods and tea, and we sit and read in lovely peace, in blissful company.

And mostly, you will learn so much about what it means to truly live on your own, to find your way, to adapt to (ew) snow, how to maintain long distance friendships and short distance friendships, to constantly look and surround yourself with people that renew your spirit. I am so proud of who you will and are becoming.

Con amor,


Marcela is a first-year MFA candidate in creative non-fiction.