Chapter 1
Dear Reader,
The journal you hold in your hands is a record of my life and all the ways it has been extraordinary. Not just in the many positions and identities I have held (among them, a lady, a fugitive, a slave, a soldier, a patient and a student) but in the fact that my life continues.
A wise king once said that there is nothing new under the sun. I would argue that he was wrong. We are what’s new—there has not been another like any of us in the history of mankind.
And yet, that is still too broad, for you see, while we are all unique, our days are numbered.
But not mine, for I have been granted the longevity that most hope for but never see. I am immortal. Though I did not ask for this “gift”, it was nonetheless conferred on me, followed by an exacting price: I had to suffer through objectification, abuse, discrimination and abandonment, and that was all before I learned of my agelessness.
Then I was denied what is true of women—the ability to create life.
But I get ahead of myself.
My story began in the era of discovery. I was the product of mixed heritage—the proof of a conqueror’s brutality and of the conquered’s strength. I was to be a bridge between the Old World and the New One, my presence meant to bear witness to what it means to be human, my reward the world and everything in it.
But the world pushed back. It made no room for me. I was treated with contempt and persecuted for being different. I thought time itself would rescue me, give me the things that were my birthright and heal me, but it only served to distance me from everything I thought my life was meant to be.
So I hid away—so far and so long that I forgot how to be human. I could no longer see the beauty in companionship. I couldn’t feel passion towards other created beings. I pushed away the love that comes from opening up to someone else. I was denied the acceptance that others offer when they know you. And I withheld the forgiveness that matures us.
I carried on, burying the desire for a space that belonged to me. I scorned the responsibility I had been handed. I didn’t want to be different. I wanted to be like everyone else. I wanted community. I wanted safety.
And while I hid, the world forgot about me. It continued, as if I never existed. As though I had not been birthed from its loins and given a special place in it. The world refused to acknowledge my existence and brought me no closure. I simply was…
Until every fiber in my being screamed for recognition. After years of disregard, I could no longer be satisfied with pretending to be something I wasn’t. Every breath I took was a declaration that I was still here. That I had bested my persecutors by outliving them. That I wasn’t done. There was a lot of fight still in me, and I was determined, not just to exist but to truly live.
I came out of hiding to find that the world had changed, but so had I. And I would fulfill the purpose for which I was born. I would face the day, regardless of what it brought. I would live up to my name. After all, I am Ana Ruiz—I am favored and renowned. There is no other like me.
Of course, you have no reason to believe anything I’ve written thus far. These words are strange even in my hearing, yet they’re true. My story isn’t just words on a page, nor is it a fanciful tale borne from the whims of a young girl, idling her day away. This is an account millennia in the making. Stop then and read for a while. And become an attester to the truth found within these pages.
A daughter of this world and witness to mankind,
Ana Ruiz
