To Every Muslim Ive Ever Encountered


I have had the pleasure of knowing and meeting so many muslim/middle eastern people and honestly speaking, Ive never felt scared or threatened by your culture. If anything, I was always curious and would ask questions like ” Why do you have to wear the cloth around your head? and “Why do you pray so many times a day?” I never asked to be ignorant and judgemental. I asked because I love learning about others cultures. I wanted to make sure that you knew I wasnt threatened by you or for shorter terms, a rascist. Our newest President of the United States of America has issued a #MuslimBan. Some of you have been sent back to your country; I dont think I really have to say that THAT IS NOT RIGHT! But this issue goes beyond our recent events. It goes back over a decade to 9/11, to Osama Bin Laden, and to the Taliban. These events caused a national hatred (against anyone from the middle east), which really derives from everyone being SCARED of you. Im writing this to say im sorry. Im sorry that your people just cant cut a break! Majority of you came to America to learn, to live freely, to receive the same opportunities in life as us Americans. I know for a fact that you didnt come here to be labeled as terrorists, to be labeled as a threat. I dont go on a plane and see a muslim and think “great im going to die today.” I doubt that when your parents had to say goodbye to you and sent you to this country, their hope was for you to grow up, learn how to make a bomb, and then set it off somewhere and kill hundreds of people. Im sorry you guys have to walk in fear of your own life because so many people dont want you to here. I’d like to think that even in a time of war in a foreign country, that if given the chance, one of you may actually save my husbands life. Well for the record, I want you here! I want your culture here! I want your people here! We need you here! This country needs you too. I went to highschool with so many muslims hoping to get an education. I had muslim classmates that I had to work with and study with.  Yes some will throw their lives away. Yes, not every single one has the best intentions. BUT that goes the same for white americans, black americans, mexican americans, asian americans, or simply just americans born and raised in this “land of the free” country. I hope that even with all this hatred against you, that your heart remains pure. That you do not give into the hate. Spread love. Spread knowledge. Continue to fight peacefully for your rights. Vengeance is not yours. Its not Trumps either, or any other rascist in this country. Its Gods. Its Allahs. I will continue to pray for you! Live in peace.


Savannah Ruiz



I am a survivor…

I survived the womb

I survived spiritual abuse

I survived physical abuse

I survived incest

I survived suicide

I survived religion

I survived labor

I survived stereotypes

I survived low self-esteem

I survived humiliation

I survived through my confusion

I survived financial instability

I survived my children

I survived my family

I survived school

I survived life…

I am a survivor !



Her name is Esther

She is young, smart and powerful

Yet her world isnt so colorful

Theres so much black and not enough white

She meets this boy one day who sparks up a conversation

They spoke for hours in the grass, forgetting she had curfew

She was captivated by his charm, his voice, and his smile

She loves broken souls because she is a broken soul

and he was broken…they clicked

They talked, they laughed, they kissed…

They had sex…

Esther expected a relationship with him

He called her baby, sweety and love

He used the word “Please” too many times

He made it so easy for her give in

He made it so easy for her to give up her power

She begged for committment

He begged for her body

She begged for his soul

He begged for her body… again…

She desperately gives in

Leaving her soul behind on the mattress he had on the floor

She screams at herself, “WHY  DO YOU HAVE NO POWER AGAINST HIM!?”

A voice screams back at her, ” YOU NEED TO FEEL LOVE, YOU NEED TO FEEL WANTED!”

She cries herself to sleep

The sun rises

Her phone vibrates she gets a text

its him

she caves with just 5 words in a text message

“I want to see you”

“Ill be there soon”

She gets ready, she makes herself pretty

She thinks “he wants me… today im going to be loved”

She sees him…

They go inside his building, into the elevator, in his house and into his room

They kiss, they undress, he moves the hair out of her face and says,

“I love you”

but she doesnt say it back

Shes been waiting for him to say those words for months now

Shes satisfied with hearing him say it

Shes tired of being used

Shes tired of being manipulated

but now shes also cold-hearted

the words “i love you” mean nothing to her heart

they have sex… she leaves…

A few days later, her phone vibrates, its him

“I want to see you I miss you”

Esther says “No”

Esther got her power back

Esther was ready to give her power to someone else

Its a vicious cycle she has yet to realize…

Her heart is blinded by the need to feel loved…

I hope Esther finds her love…

but wait, she did… a few years later

she found the love of her life

who begged her to keep her power…



you came into my life during a crucial time…

my teenage years…

you taught me to leave my problems off the dirt

you taught me that for 2 hours a day I can forget about it all

my postion gave me confidence

it gave me pride…

it was all about having quick reactions and amazing reflexes

you challenged my talent

you challenged me every single day…

you yelled with passion

you yelled because you cared

there was two sides to you though

the side that encouraged

and the side that destroyed

i dont think you were aware of that side of you

yet you…

destroyed my confidence

destroyed my pride

destroyed my self esteem

you made me believe I could never lead

you made me believe that my peers didnt like me

you were amazed that my teachers loved me

you told me to lose 5lbs to be faster

you told me you couldnt see me in college

you gave me social anxiety

you, you, you

yet I think about you often

i think of all the conversations we had

about my life my fears my goals

why have I been so conflicted all these years?

you left a mark on my heart…

you left a hole in my heart

its weird how I feel like I lost someone

you were nothing more than my coach

but there I go again searching for a father in all the wrong places…


My Children are not Bronx

bronx pic.jpg

Growing up in The Bronx, New York taught me one important thing and that was… I did not want to raise a family there. Many of who live there can relate however I am not sure if we would share the same reasonings. My first son Uriah was born in Rhode Island and my second son Julian was born in California. Both of these places are far more different than The Bronx. Is this a good or a bad thing? I havent decided yet. Honestly, at times I miss The Bronx. I miss the bodegas at every corner, I miss the pizza place and the chinese spots. Sometimes I even miss the MTA because of how convienient public transportation is compared to suburban states and now more than ever, I miss being around my people.  However, I do not miss the broad daylight shoot outs, I do not miss the drug dealers on the corner or in front of the bodega (making it extremely uncomfortable to walk by),  I certainly do not miss the cockaroaches and the rats, I do not miss not being allowed to go to the store at night because of how dangerous it was , I do not miss looking out the window and seeing a man get stabbed and overall, I do not miss having to always keep my guard up.

My children are not Bronx. I am. The Bronx gave me tough skin, it gave me a defensive mechanism that is a double edge sword at times. I am Bronx and thats okay but my children are not and thats okay too. I dont want my children growing up as I did. I dont want my sons afraid of the night, I dont want them with that tough skin. Yes they will be men! Great men! and not having tough skin doesnt make them less of a man. It makes them gentle, kind, caring, loving, accepting, and open.Growing up in the BX, I wasnt those things and some can say “oh it has to do with how you raise and parent your children” maybe so, but as my children grow up, I would love to worry about them less. My mother had to worry more! It has nothing to do with parenting when I would carry a pocketknife when going to the projects to see my dad, or dialing 911 and having my finger on the call button in case something happened to me in the staircase of my dads building. Having fears of being kidnapped, or killed. My children wont have to grow up with that fear because they are not from the bronx nor are they bronx.

Whenever strangers ask me where im from the expression on their faces are all the same. Its an expression of,  “omg really, how are you alive?”I have been stereotyped because thats where im from. Its like they expect to be speaking with a ghetto hispanic thats probably stabbed someone (I just laughed). Why would I want for my children to be subjected to that by wishing they were from there. I proudly say that I am from the Bronx to strangers and if they insult the bronx they are insulting me. However, for the sake of my boys, I will continue to say “My boys are not from the Bronx” proudly.

So when the next person decides to make fun of the fact that my boys are not New Yorkers, please realize that that is NOT an insult. I did right by them by not giving them the life I had….

To My Husband, On Veterans Day

american-flag-images-019Today is Veterans Day. It is a day to honor the men and women who served and are serving our country. You in particular. You decided to put your life on the line for your country. I have accepted that I will never be able to understand that. I dont think people outside of the military know what it means to sacrifice yourself for your country. It’s not just about the possibility of being killed in action, or all about deployments. It’s also about how you sacrifice your family. When you signed your contract, you made a promise that no matter what, your duty is to your country first, and then comes your family. There is no saying “no” to the military. There is no ” Im sorry I cant leave my family” If anything its always to your family that you say, “Im sorry but I have to go.” It is a series of unfortunate events. Today is the day that I honor you. You are a brave man. In a country full of so much hate, you chose to fight for those who can’t. I am the luckiest woman in the world to have a husband whose heart is bigger than this country. You have never been deployed to a war zone, but I cant be in denial that the day is closer to approaching than we know it.  When that time comes, it doesnt matter what your job is, whether you are an Aerial Porter, a Pilot,  or in the front lines.It doesnt matter what branch of service you are in either. Air Force or Marine. What matters the most is getting back home safely to your family.Honey,  when you are called away there is no doubt that I wont be devastated. I wont know what to tell the boys knowing they  will be too young to understand. I wont know what to do to make each day go by a little faster, but I wil tell you what I know I can and will do.  I promise to always hold you down, to always love you, to always honor you and to always love you.  You are my hero in more ways than one. I love you more than you can ever imagine.  Thank you for your service. Thank you for your sacrifice.  Happy Veterans  Day!

Always and forever,

Your wife

P.s. I hope you enjoy dinner and time with your  service brothers.



On October 15th, 2010

I was baptized

by him

But little did I know what I was being baptized into

A baptism is suppose to mean the beginning of a holy life

A Godly Life

I was only 14 years old

I didnt know what that meant

I guess that was the perfect time to take advantage

Dipped in a pool of water

Declarations made over my life

Feeling as though I washed all my sins away

Oh how that felt so good!

Soon after…

I realized that nothing really was different

Its not that I didnt try my hardest

I was misguided



Full of so much hurt that was masked by this baptism

I couldnt believe that I was free

How could I if the one who made these declarations over my life was a false prophet?

Did I take that too far?

Did I say out loud what everyone else was thinking?

In the moment I thought I was being baptized into a spiritual family

In peaceful waters

In forgiving waters

In waters of grace

I was instead baptized into religion

Into manipulation

Into deceit

No, Im not saying that that’s what God represents

That was the one who baptized me represented

in my life…

I dont accept this baptism anymore

I dont accept what this baptism meant for my spiritual life

I dont accept the hypocrisy

But I still accept Jesus!

Except without all the religion

That’s all that matters to me

One day, I hope to be baptized again

In waters of true peace

My day will come !

Signing off,

Savannah ❤