Choose Su Novio Wisely

By Nikki Cano

Back in the days of mi vida loca, the thing that would make my head turn was a
cocoa-skinned hombre with tattooed musculos peeking out of his crisp white ribbed tank
shirt. If he was pelon, with Locs framing his chiseled face, then I was looking. I looked
for cholos wearing starched Dickies with a razor-sharp pleat lining the front and knee-
high socks and Nike Cortes. There was something forbidden and exciting about being
with cholos. Abuelitas at the mercado would stare and young couples wouldn’t even look
us in the eye. I liked the intensity, the danger, and the drama of being with someone who
got respeto and even elicited a little bit of miedo. The more cholos I got to know,
however, the more disappointed I became. After a daunting series of events, I realized
that I may not want to settle down with a thug.
First, I met my novio at a car show. I was wearing a skimpy fishnet outfit and not
much else. He invited my friends and me to kick back with him and some of his homies,
but he wasn’t where he said he was going to be. He ran up, sweaty and out of breath,
about fifteen minutes after we were supposed to meet him and he stunk of mota. I still
thought he was all that, and we went out cruising that night. He was all about cerveza and
partying, and would rather be with his crew than spend a night home with me. I started to
question where the relationship was going when he took my car in the middle of the night
while I was asleep.
The second problem I had in this relationship was his addiction to drogas. He
needed something to keep him high at all times, or else his temper would rage like a
habanero. I finally looked at myself in the mirror one night and thought, “What am I
doing with him?” Earlier that day, I had walked in on him in el bano and caught him
smoking out of a homemade crack pipe. I knew he smoked once in awhile, but I never
imagined he did hard drugs. I just thought he liked to do a little weed now and then.
Eventually, mi corazon got picked up by la policia and thrown back in jail. Like
the dutiful, supportive Latina mujer, I visited him at county on Sundays with all the other
mujeres in the same situation. I started to get suspicious when his homies all started
making moves on me and sweet talking me. Even my boyfriend asked me to write letters
to his dogs in jail, and he wanted me to send them sexy pics of myself too. He was
talking to other girls that he told me he was just using for money, and I never doubted his
exclusive feelings for me. Well, mi amor married someone else while he was locked up,
and although at the time I was heartbroken, looking back it was one of the best things that
ever happened to me.
The thing was that I didn’t think much of myself back then, and I thought that
cholos were the best I could do. I wore sexy clothes to get attention, and now I realize
that I believed I could get a man by the way I looked, by parading my body or even by
being easy.
I didn’t care if an hombre treated me badly; I just felt satisfied that I got a man
who stuck around. I ended up in a few abusive relationships, two of which stand out in
my mind because I had loaded guns pointed directly in my face. I kept praying to God
that He would help me out of these relationships, and finally, after eight years of chasing
cholos, He did. When I was safely out of the last of these relationships and moved to a
new town, I realized that cholos just weren’t what I needed in my life. I wanted a man
who would be my partner and not bark orders at me. I wanted a man who would treat me
kindly and be proud of me for who I am and not try to change me. I wanted a man who
would stay home with me once in awhile instead of always wanting to go out partying
with his friends. I wanted real respect, not just some smooth words whispered in my ear
or actions in private that would never be done in front of other people.
God soon sent me a man who was all the things I needed. We now have a
beautiful daughter together and he takes good care of the both of us. We go to church
together on Sundays and pray together. I think of the life I used to live and am so thankful
that I got out of it. A lot of my old homegirls still have that cholo obsession, and they are
paying for it. Many of them have their old men in prison and are raising their kids alone,
and some have even gotten jumped into gangs themselves. I’ve even heard horror stories
about some of them, like one was strung out on drugs while her kids were strapped in the
car seat screaming and crying from hunger. La vida loca is crazy and dangerous,
especially for kids exposed to the evils of that life. I am thankful to God that I got out of
that, and that I didn’t have my daughter until then.
I don’t mean disrespect to those men who dress like gangsters, or even if he does
belong to a gang. I’m not judging others, I am just saying that your man should show his
love towards you, and make you feel important, safe and comfortable. Your man can
dress however he likes, but make sure he treats you right. You deserve to be respected,
adored, and appreciated. You should feel free to dress as you feel comfortable, without
feeling pressured by a man to show more or even cover up. Healthy relationships make
for happy families, so choose wisely.