There exists a woman.  She is many things:  Lover, fighter, writer, sister, mother, and friend.  This woman is a poet, a painter, a creator, and an innovator.  She is a storyteller, a weaver of knowledge, a vessel of hope, and an engineer of love.  A student of life, she is earth’s daughter.  Named by her father after the patron Saint Therese of Lisieux, born exactly 100 years before her, she too, is an avid letter writer, keeper of journals, and is propelled by her sacrificial secretive small deeds.  Being a descendant of the people surnamed for Spanish caves, the woman naturally navigates in the night, discovering tranquility in the wisdom one finds by walking through the dawn of darkness into the magnificence of light.  An innate warrior, she beacons her intrinsic forces when faced with life’s battles, failures, and successes.

The woman is educated, austere, apprehensive, fearful, delicate, destructive, dependent, vulnerable, solitary, longing, prideful, bold, and critical; She is intelligent, optimistic, light-hearted, loyal, humorous, courageous, triumphant, vivacious, venerable, calm, caring, constructive, resourceful, independent, empathetic, and nurturing.  This woman is inimitable.  She wears her heart on her sleeve, not knowing why.  Nor does the woman know how she perseveres through her ongoing struggles, yet she does.  She doesn’t know what her future holds, except for that it is bright.  This woman believes in nothing and everything.  She is a dichotomy:  A grounded free spirit.

Since girlhood, the woman experiences the most fascinating dreams, as well as the most terrifying nightmares.  She lives a strange dream life—at times wildly raging like a caged animal, at times flying freely in a sky of peach hues.  Staring into the face of fear she finds peace in her purpose and her truth.  Her name is Stacey Theresa Cuevas.

Stacey Cuevas is a narrative nonfiction writer living in Oakland, California.