I’ve always been terrible at building things. I’m impatient and try to skip steps.

Recently, I moved into a new home and decided to give this building furniture thing a try. Not only did I build my dresser all by myself, but I built my bed frame as well! I felt like it was a victory for all womankind!

Granted, it’s not suffrage or anything, but with the help of Romeo Santos and some determination I got the job done! (Full disclosure: My male roommate totally volunteered to help me. When I told him I had finished it, he was “hurt and excited,” because it was supposed to be a “community project.” I told him it wasn’t personal and reassured him it was me and not him.)

After I built my dresser and told a friend he said me, “I’m always impressed with you.” Building furniture is nothing impressive, but I think he reacted this way because he’s always complimented me on how independent I am. I grew up in a home where my mom painted the house on her own, she checked the oil in her car and even changed her tires. She never waited on anyone, and she never asked anyone for help. She always said she didn’t want to inconvenience others.

My mother has always told me:

Naciste sola y vas a morir sola.

(You were born by yourself, and you’re going to die by yourself.)

Are these words harsh? Yeah. Are they true? Yes. By no means did she give me this advice so I would think I’d spend my final days alone. She said this so I would learn to be independent and not wait on others to make decisions or to do things. Today was one of those days I found myself repeating those words.

This phrase has molded me beyond words. I love to vacation alone. I love challenging myself. To a certain point, I even love doubting myself. It’s like one side of my brain taunts the other and says, “You can’t do this.” Meanwhile, the other defiantly replies, “Watch me.”

My mother is a woman who has done it ALL by herself. I don’t know if I can be at her level, but I can sure as hell try!

Victoria Moll-Ramirez is a broadcast journalist based in Atlanta, GA. She is originally from Miami, FL and had the great fortune of being raised by the sassiest, spunkiest, wisest, most hysterical Honduran woman in the world. Victoria’s mother, Bélgica, is 60-years-old, resides in Little Havana (Miami) and enjoys a good margarita accompanied by a heartrending ranchera. Victoria blogs about her mom’s funny and wise sayings on, “In My Mother’s Words.”