and I couldn’t even enjoy my time off like the rest of the guys in the group.
With time, I have come to realize that I killed myself working so hard in Menudo because a part of me wanted to forget about the problems that awaited me back in Puerto Rico. While I was working and traveling the world, I felt safe and distanced from the reality of what was going on in my family. I didn’t know how to handle the situation, so I simply endured it for only a few days at a time—at most—always wanting to get back to work as soon as possible.
But now that I was going to be home for the foreseeable future, there was no escape: I had to face my reality, no matter what. For a long time I couldn’t understand why they fought and were so angry at each other all the time, but what I realize today is that they were doing the best they could under their circumstances, and seeing it this way has helped me forgive them.
It took time, but I finally understood that if they were fighting it was only because they both wanted the best for me. My parents each had their own point of view, and though their stubbornness may have caused me a lot of pain, they were doing it for the most important reason: because they loved me and I was their son. And what can be better than that? There are parents who abandon their children and don’t protect them. My parents were never like that. It was the total opposite: They always worried about me and they adored me to no end. When I finally understood this, I was able to find peace. In my heart, I forgave all of the pain and anger they caused me, and today we have one of the most loving and caring relationships possible. I treasure every moment they spend with my children and me, and I try to see them as often as possible.
COMING OF AGE
ONE OF THE things that I did love about my return to Puerto Rico was that all I had to do was focus on being a teenager, and it was a huge relief. I finished high school, and with my small allowance I was even able to buy a car, which I would use to go from party to party and stay out until the crack of dawn.
But for as busy as I appeared to the outside world at the time—between spending time with my family and friends, going to parties, studying, and so on—inside I felt completely lost. I was exhausted and confused and didn’t know where I stood. Although I think it’s normal to feel that way at that age, I am sure the experience with Menudo had only intensified my doubts. I had enjoyed my years in the group immensely, but when it was all over I didn’t know if I wanted to continue in the music business. The stage that once drew me in now caused me mixed emotions, and I simply had no idea which path to take. I needed time to think.
I finished my studies, and on December 24, 1989, I celebrated my eighteenth birthday; with the arrival of that day, aside from becoming an adult, I gained financial independence: I could finally access the bank accounts that had been frozen for years, and do whatever I chose with the money I had earned. And to celebrate, I decided I was going to live it up! Thirteen days after my birthday, on January 6, 1990, I moved to New York City.
The original plan was to go for only one week—or at least that’s what I told everyone. I took my pillow and my backpack and just a few clothes, so no one would be suspicious or guess my intentions. But the moment I landed at JFK, I called my mother and said: “Mami, I’m staying in New York.”
“What? Oh, no!” she replied. “How can you stay in New York? Why don’t you go to Miami instead?”
I think it made her nervous for me to live in such a large city, because she was afraid I’d get mugged, or who knows what else. “Come on, Mami,” I said to her, “you’ve watched too many movies. Don’t worry. I’ve made up my mind and I decided that I want to live here for a while.”
Like I said, I needed time to think, but I also think I needed to take it down a notch when it came to
With time, I have come to realize that I killed myself working so hard in Menudo because a part of me wanted to forget about the problems that awaited me back in Puerto Rico. While I was working and traveling the world, I felt safe and distanced from the reality of what was going on in my family. I didn’t know how to handle the situation, so I simply endured it for only a few days at a time—at most—always wanting to get back to work as soon as possible.
But now that I was going to be home for the foreseeable future, there was no escape: I had to face my reality, no matter what. For a long time I couldn’t understand why they fought and were so angry at each other all the time, but what I realize today is that they were doing the best they could under their circumstances, and seeing it this way has helped me forgive them.
It took time, but I finally understood that if they were fighting it was only because they both wanted the best for me. My parents each had their own point of view, and though their stubbornness may have caused me a lot of pain, they were doing it for the most important reason: because they loved me and I was their son. And what can be better than that? There are parents who abandon their children and don’t protect them. My parents were never like that. It was the total opposite: They always worried about me and they adored me to no end. When I finally understood this, I was able to find peace. In my heart, I forgave all of the pain and anger they caused me, and today we have one of the most loving and caring relationships possible. I treasure every moment they spend with my children and me, and I try to see them as often as possible.
COMING OF AGE
ONE OF THE things that I did love about my return to Puerto Rico was that all I had to do was focus on being a teenager, and it was a huge relief. I finished high school, and with my small allowance I was even able to buy a car, which I would use to go from party to party and stay out until the crack of dawn.
But for as busy as I appeared to the outside world at the time—between spending time with my family and friends, going to parties, studying, and so on—inside I felt completely lost. I was exhausted and confused and didn’t know where I stood. Although I think it’s normal to feel that way at that age, I am sure the experience with Menudo had only intensified my doubts. I had enjoyed my years in the group immensely, but when it was all over I didn’t know if I wanted to continue in the music business. The stage that once drew me in now caused me mixed emotions, and I simply had no idea which path to take. I needed time to think.
I finished my studies, and on December 24, 1989, I celebrated my eighteenth birthday; with the arrival of that day, aside from becoming an adult, I gained financial independence: I could finally access the bank accounts that had been frozen for years, and do whatever I chose with the money I had earned. And to celebrate, I decided I was going to live it up! Thirteen days after my birthday, on January 6, 1990, I moved to New York City.
The original plan was to go for only one week—or at least that’s what I told everyone. I took my pillow and my backpack and just a few clothes, so no one would be suspicious or guess my intentions. But the moment I landed at JFK, I called my mother and said: “Mami, I’m staying in New York.”
“What? Oh, no!” she replied. “How can you stay in New York? Why don’t you go to Miami instead?”
I think it made her nervous for me to live in such a large city, because she was afraid I’d get mugged, or who knows what else. “Come on, Mami,” I said to her, “you’ve watched too many movies. Don’t worry. I’ve made up my mind and I decided that I want to live here for a while.”
Like I said, I needed time to think, but I also think I needed to take it down a notch when it came to
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