My first pair of cleats was red and white, matching just about everything I wore. My mom found them used at a yard sale, but to me they felt brand new. I wore them every chance I got, and probably would have slept in them if I could. I was obsessed with cleaning them after every game, and somewhere in those quiet moments alone with a dirty pair of cleats, I realized nothing could have prepared me for how deep this love would run. Fútbol wasn't just a game to me; it became everything.
My fútbol journey started long before I could even kick a ball. I learned how to celebrate a goal before I ever scored one. On game day, you would always find me wearing green, white and red. When Mexico played, it wasn't soccer; it was fútbol.
The way my people play is so magical, it almost looks like they are dancing with the ball at their feet. My family didn't just watch games; we lived and breathed them with parties, delicious food, and the constant chatter of my uncles singing, laughing, and bickering. What I fell in love with first was the emotion, the highs and lows, and the roller coaster of it all. That initial spark fueled everything that came next.
Growing up as the youngest of nine made me tough in ways I didn't fully understand until later. Being raised by my siblings gave me the kind of strength you can't learn any other way. But when you come from a home where the hustle never stops, affection can get lost in the midst of it all. It's not that the love wasn't there; it just showed up differently.
On the field, I discovered what being a family meant. I joined my first team alongside my boy cousins, with my uncle Luis as our coach. Being the only girl on the team was intimidating at first, but everything shifted the moment I scored my first goal. My teammates rushed toward me, hugging me, cheering, and calling my name.
In that moment, I finally felt seen. I felt wanted in a way I never had before. It was the kind of attention I didn't always get growing up, but it was something I deeply needed. From that moment on, I kept returning to the field to find it.
Fútbol stopped being just a game after that. It became the place where I could feel true connection, aliveness, and a sense of belonging. Every goal, pass, and moment on the field filled something in me that had been empty for a long time.
Moving to New York six years ago felt like starting over completely. I built a new life in this city, but something felt like it was missing at first. I found my way back to the game in the same way you find your way back to something that was always meant for you. It became the thing I could rely on when I needed connection most. I wasn't just looking for a game, I was looking for a family away from home and a community of people who looked like me, played like me, and showed up for each other the way I always needed.
Some of my favorite memories from those early days in the city are postgame moments spent sitting with my new friends. We would pass around cans of Yerba Madre, still catching our breath while already planning next week’s runs. In these in-between moments, we came to life together with a shared love for the game and the steady presence of Yerba Madre.
It was in one of these moments that we came up with the idea for POC Fútbol Brooklyn. Three years ago, my friends and I founded a community fútbol club for queer women of color to come together, play, and most importantly, feel safe and seen. What started as a space to play has grown into something so much bigger.
Every week, we show up for each other on the field, but it doesn't stop there. We support each other in our daily lives, too: showing up in the hard moments, hosting tournaments to raise money for our communities, and collaborating as artists and creatives. Our network of support has helped each of us grow in ways we could never have imagined.
Before every home game, we’ve started cracking open cans of Yerba Madre together as part of our ritual that signals we're about to do something that matters. POC Fútbol Brooklyn is more than just fútbol now. It's the kind of love, support, and belonging I had been searching for all along, and it's what I want to keep building for others.
I realize now that my cleats have always been more than something I just wore. They carry my story, keeping me grounded in who I am and where I come from. Fútbol was my first love, and it's the one that continues to hold me as I grow into the person I am meant to become, no matter how far I am from home.