When You're Single, Latina, And Grown

By Prisca Dorcas Mojica Rodriguez

Now let's get one thing straight, if you grew up in a traditional Latinx household like I did: God and your dad were in charge, and when in doubt you open your bible.  With this sort of religious conservatism comes a particular kind of sexism where girls are never women and boys are born men.

Girls are to be taken care of, because we are never grown and capable in this type of household’s mentality.  So here I am: single, 30, and sexual.   You can only begin to imagine what sort of tension arises whenever I mention my escapades to my mama.

My dad gave up parenting me after my divorce. I had gone so much outside of the expectations that he had placed on me and my respectable female body that he decided to not put any more effort into my future because I had already tainted and ruined what was given for him to take care of.

Because of the nature of my divorce and my age, my mamà and I have become best friends.  Something about the lack of tolerance for men that was my learned experience bonded us, and we became hermanas.

…Until I talk to her about my sex life.  As I mentioned earlier, the religious conservatism that my type of household is doused in, makes it so that my mama:

  • a) cannot talk about sex freely, boldly, loudly.
  • b) cannot talk about sex through the lens that sex is enjoyable.

So here I stand, single, Latina, and grown-- though never really grown-- and silenced.  But boy do I try, because something about my ethics on never feeling shame about my sexual side makes it impossible for me to accommodate my kind, supportive mamà. 

Because, Mami, the world taught you that sex was not yours and you’ve accepted that reality and own that reality, stake your identity on that reality, but mami:

Me encanta tener relaciones.  Me encanta  tener orgasmos, repeatedly. 
Mami, I do not always remember my partner’s names and sometimes
I cannot even remember what they looked like, but Mami, I still love me.
Men do not use me sexually, I have decided to end that herencia. 
Mami, it is I who uses sex.   Mami, we can do that and
still be loving and in love with ourselves and have lots of
sex with complete strangers. Mami, I carry condoms and a
 knife with me, to take care of me and to make sure I am never in danger. 


I say these things to my mami, and she looks at me like something is wrong with me. She looks at me with concern and disgust and overall disdain for who I have become.  She calls me cochina and I stand in shock, and then I shake off the learned self hatred and demand that she see how beautiful I am, still.  But I never take back my words, I never soften my blows because I am single, Latina, and grown, despite a cultura that refuses to see me -- all of me. 


Prisca Dorcas Mojica Rodriguez is a chonga Mujerista from Managua, Nicaragua currently living in Miami, FL. She recently graduated with her Masters from Vanderbilt University, and is looking to take some much needed time off to refresh. She is also the founder of Latina Rebels, a blogger for HuffPo Latino Voices, and a columnist/editor at Chica Magazine. Her interests are within biopolitics as it relates to Latina embodiment, specifically concerning models of conquerable flesh around narratives of naturalization for women of color. Thus her work is around reclaiming and upholding embodied resistance, particularly within chonga and chola subcultures. Que viva la mujer!

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