Dear reader,
Thank you for visiting my site and welcome. Many of you know me as the young New York City comedy producer that has booked some on the best lineups around. Some of you may know me from my new community affairs post in the Bronx. Some may even know me as the young Queens Catholic schoolgirl who you could always count on for a good story or book and movie recommendation.
For those of you who don’t know me, allow me to introduce myself and tell you the origin of this blog.
As I mentioned, I’m a born and bred New York City girl who grew up in the Corona/Jackson Heights neighborhoods of Queens. I went to Catholic school my entire life and lived in the same house for about 20 years. I was and continue to be a shy, good girl. Seriously. I don’t curse. I don’t do drugs. Growing up, I much preferred staying in room with a good book than going out. My mother used to beg me to get out of the house every once in a while. One year, I did. When I was 16 years old, I went to The Comedy Cellar to see some of the stand-up comedians I was a big fan of perform. Things have never been the same since. I spent the next few years sneaking into these clubs (many comedy clubs are 21 + over), befriending comedians and eventually producing my own shows.
There’s one thing that I haven’t shared with most people but that I do not hide. In fact, I think it’s important for me to share this fact about myself to warn others of the dangers that lurk and can occur to anyone, anywhere. I was molested twice, by two different men, all before the age of 10. Like in so many cases of sexual abuse, these men were not strangers. One was a tenant in my mother’s house and the other lived in my father’s house. They were not only “like family” to us but, in one case, he was quite literally family (extended but not blood-related to me). I won’t go into the details of what happened because I don’t believe it’s important. What is important is the revelation that these things do happen. They happen quite a lot actually. We don’t hear about more than half of these cases because victims are left with the stigma and the shame. On a trip I once discovered that 3 out of the 4 girls who traveled in my group lived through similar experiences. The fourth girl wasn’t present so who knows if she may have had the same trauma. Ladies and gentlemen, I promise you, this is that common. This is why I always tell mothers to be very careful with their children. Never trust that you truly know someone. It is better to be safe than sorry.
It is because of these experiences that I became incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of becoming both physically and emotionally intimate with another person. Furthermore, my drive for work and a fulfilling career led me to the certainty that relationships were just distractions, a waste of time and wholly unnecessary. I never wanted to ask permission or have to explain anything I did to anyone. I never wanted to make someone else feel obligated in any way to me. That is, until I met him.
Here I sit in our apartment with an engagement ring on my finger, watching over my three-month-old daughter as dinner is cooking in the kitchen. Life can be incredibly funny and extraordinary. I hope you’ll follow me on this crazy journey into adulthood and happy domesticity.
– Domesticated Me
