Broken MandatesThe Woman Who Said “Enough”I grew up amidst masses, rosaries, and that dense air of unspoken mandates—heavy as a tombstone:Be silent. Obey. Sacrifice.You were born to care, to endure, to serve.First your parents, then your husband, then your children. And you—last of all, if anything remains.I am Vanina Vergara - C.V. Vergara to the english-speaking world born in Asunción- Paraguay. I have three children whom I love deeply, and this is my life.I was the “caregiving daughter” —the one who bore it all. The one who endured parents at odds, who placed her body where there was chaos, who remained silent though the cries thundered within. I was made to care as a child, to protect as a young woman, and to obey when I scarcely recognised myself.I was the submissive wife. Twice.The first time, under the romantic illusion of “forever.”The second, under fear disguised as love, whilst I endured gender-based and emotional violence, before the silent eyes of my children—watching, suffering. I endured as long as I could, until my very soul asked: And you? When will you live?The rupture was brutal. There is no amicable divorce when what shatters is not merely a paper, but years of unrewarded devotion, of an identity erased. And then, as a mother, came another blow: to be judged. By my children, by my family, by society.“Children come first,” they say. Yet no one teaches you how to care for them when you yourself are in pieces. Custody was taken from me. I was defamed. Isolated. And the deepest wound came when they—my children—also questioned me, withdrew, and at times erased me altogether. That wound remains open. For one never ceases to love one’s children, even when they reject you. Children are a lifelong ache. And you love them still, even through the pain.But I was also—and I remain—the woman who said enough.The one who rose.The one who declared: I will not go on living half-dead.The one who understood that being a good mother is not to vanish for them, but to fight to exist—so that they might see it is possible, too, to choose, to live, to rebuild.Today, I look back and see the mandates lying shattered upon the ground. I no longer serve at the table in silence. I no longer smile when I am erased. I no longer bow my head before what is unjust.I am a daughter, a mother, a wife, a professional, a citizen—and above all, I am a woman. With a voice, with a story, with wounds… and with wings. I read letters sent to mailto:[email protected]

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