I broke into a house in Coyoacán to steal, but found a blind girl tied to a chair. She whispered, “Did my mom come back to sell me again?” I decided to steal her back instead. As we reached the front door, heavy footsteps echoed from the dark hallway, and a voice growled, “Who is in there?”…

shining with unshed tears. “You chose to carry my daughter out of that nightmare when you easily could have fled alone to save yourself,” she stated firmly. “Please, allow someone the privilege of carrying you for a little while.”

That was the catalyst for my coup d’état against my own destiny.

It was not a spontaneous, magical transformation. It was continue reading …