Zoraida Barrera | Updates

Because of Them Released!

Zoraida Barrera — Sat, 17 Oct 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Official target release date. Book is available for pre-order now!

Pre-Order Here!

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The Whisper and the Wall

Zoraida Barrera — Mon, 19 Oct 2026 00:00:00 +0000

The Whisper and the Wall
By Zoraida Barrera
Copyright 2026 Zoraida Barrera. All rights reserved.
No part of this poem may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

“I didn’t hit you.”
That’s what he says.
And no, he didn’t.
But that hole in the wall right by my face?
It doesn’t give me confidence he wouldn’t have.
We ignore the near-miss.
We call it "just a temper."

“I didn’t push you into the wall.”
He admits he pushed.
Claims it was my fault.
My fault I spoke out of turn.
My fault I went into the wall.
We ignore the blame shift.
We call it "just an argument."

Then comes the quiet.
The sudden, suffocating peace.
"I'm sorry. I promise I'll change. I love you so much."
There are flowers.
There are expensive grand gestures.
There are gifts… a watch, a necklace,
a fleeting moment of pampering.
There is love made with a deceptive, devastating care…
as if a gentleness between the sheets
could erase the fear, bruises, and shame.
We hold onto this fragile calm.
We call it "proof of his love."
We call it proof he can change.

But the cycle turns.
The tension returns.
One day, I’m beautiful, wonderful, smart.
The next, when he’s had a bad day?
I’m stupid, a burden, I’m letting myself go.

I'm told my friends are toxic.
I’m told my family is judgmental.
I’m told to quit my jobs, that he will take care of me—
only to go back because I’m "doing nothing."
He doesn’t tell me he has a tracker in my phone.
He doesn’t tell me he obsesses over my day-to-day movements.
He does, however, tell me to keep my phone unlocked.
He does tell me I’m not allowed to see my friends.
He does tell me I must cut off communication with all males,
despite the fact they stay in contact with ex-girlfriends behind my back.

This is the control we mistake for care.

I put my phone on silent,
and all hell breaks loose.
Why didn't I answer his third call?
"You must be hiding something."
I’m called something different in a text message,
but I’m the problem.
I'm delusional, making things up.
All the while his "sweetie" has no idea.
But I know about her.

And somehow,
I've allowed myself to be conditioned to stay.
I don’t walk away when my mind and heart scream GO!
I start believing this is truly the best I can get.
The best I deserve.
I start believing I am worthless.

Because that’s when this started, isn't it?
When my worth was set as a child.
When I was told I would not be believed.
When I was conditioned to believe that love is pain.
My pain made me special.

We do this because we are trained to see the bruise,
but not the slow, quiet decay of the soul.
We are taught to accept the apology,
but not to call out the repeating pattern.
The flowers don't erase the violence.
The jewelry doesn't fill the hole in the wall.
The red flags are not painted;
they are waved violently in front of our eyes.
And we are trained to look away.

Stop looking away.

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he found the bruise

Zoraida Barrera — Sat, 17 Oct 2026 00:00:00 +0000

he found the bruise
By Zoraida Barrera
Copyright © 2026 Zoraida Barrera. All rights reserved.

No part of this poem may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Here are just some things
I have learned
after years of allowing men to damage me.

I used to tell myself I allowed my reactions
because my reactions kept me safe.
But I needed to unlearn how I was conditioned

So that when the right man,
a real man showed up,
I would know how to let him in.
Because I knew how to survive,
but I wanted to live.

But first, I had to name the ghosts haunting me.

I had to look at toxic,
abusive behavior
and call it by its true name.
Abuse.

The fact that you could hurt me,
and somehow draw apologies
from my own lips
whenever I dared to defend myself.

Somehow, making it my fault.
Making it something I caused.
Never your short temper.
Never your lack of empathy.

Every single event,
a direct result of my own doing.

You raised your voice—
and that was my fault.

You grew aggressive and caused me to flinch—
and that was my fault.

And worse?
I apologized.
Because my fear made you feel awful.

How dare I be afraid
of someone who was always a snap away
from missing the wall
and landing on my face.

How dare I call you out
for making me feel small...
unwanted...
like a burden.

It never mattered why I was upset.
What caused it.
Whether you could see the validity.
Because at the end of the day,
my accusation of your poor treatment
was always the sin—
never your actions.

I had to learn
to stop shrinking away from the things I excel at.

Anytime I did well,
it was never met with acknowledgment.
Never met with love.
Never a simple, “Good job.”

No.

You met those moments with hostility.
With a sudden, desperate need
to knock me off my high.
To bring me back down to where you felt you were.
I couldn't be better than you.
If you allowed that of me,
there was no way I would stay.
You broke me down
to keep me.

I was not allowed happiness
if it wasn’t somehow provided by you.
I had to unlearn the dread—
the irrational fear
that my own success
meant pain and heartbreak were on their way.
I learned to keep my success quiet...
and my hopes and dreams hidden.

I had to unlearn the heavy lie
that I was never enough.

Watching you spend years stepping out on me,
convincing myself that was the best I’d ever get,
that I was receiving what I was worth.
That believing your lies meant keeping the peace.
You had me convinced it was all in my head—
even with evidence, I still gave you the benefit of the doubt.

And my feelings of unworthiness...
that part wasn't your doing.
That came from before you.
That came from trauma and abuse I endured as a child.

But you found the bruise.
And you couldn't help yourself—
constantly pressing on the open wound.

I spent years unlearning all the damage,
because the scars you left behind
had the power to keep me under your thumb.
They had the power to keep me tethered,
bound to the smoke and mirrors that was your love.

Until I finally said—Enough.
Until I said:
Pack your shit and go.

Until I reached down,
deep into the ashes,
and grabbed hold of my last ounce of self-love
and strength—
and began to let go.
Began to heal myself.

It hasn’t been an easy journey.
The pain you caused
was more than enough to keep me down,
to keep me from growing,
from thriving.

Lucky for me...
that real man. The one I wanted to be ready for.
He did come.
He did show up.
And with work, and time, and patience—I let him in.

His love was more than enough
to get me up and out of that darkness.

And though I’ve had my ups and downs since,
I am loved.
And cherished.
In a way I never knew I was worthy of.

He didn't just save me.
Piece by patient piece—
he has slowly repaired
everything you destroyed.

He doesn't press on that wound.

He brings the bandages
that keep me held together.

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Because of Them - Updates!

Zoraida Barrera — Sat, 17 Oct 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Hello everyone!

Writing Because of Them has been one of the most intense, vulnerable, and rewarding journeys of my life. Turning my own experiences navigating survival, mental health, and the long road to a hard-won happy ending into fiction has meant everything to me.

Now, I am reaching a crucial milestone in the process, and I am looking for a small, dedicated group of alpha readers to dive into the manuscript early.

What is an Alpha Reader?

Unlike beta readers who look at a more polished draft for pacing and flow, alpha readers help me look at the raw bones of the story—the emotional beats, character arcs, early structural choices, and high-angst dynamics as the chapters come together.

What I'm Looking For:

Readers who love high-angst contemporary romance with heavy emotional weight, heat, and witty banter.
Honest, constructive feedback and a passion for deep character-driven stories.
Readers who don't mind messy, unpolished early drafts and want to be part of the inner circle shaping this book's release.

How to Join:

If you want a behind-the-scenes look at how Because of Them comes to life and want to help me cross the finish line, please fill out the application form linked below:

👉 Apply Here!

Thank you all so much for riding along with me on this journey. Your support means the world.

— Zoraida Barrera

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Alpha reader applications are open

Zoraida Barrera — Sat, 17 Oct 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Hello everyone!

Now, I am reaching a crucial milestone in the process, and I am looking for a small, dedicated group of alpha readers to dive into the manuscript early.

What is an Alpha Reader?

What I'm Looking For:

Readers who love high-angst contemporary romance with heavy emotional weight, heat, and witty banter.
Honest, constructive feedback and a passion for deep character-driven stories.
Readers who don't mind messy, unpolished early drafts and want to be part of the inner circle shaping this book's release.

How to Join:

If you want a behind-the-scenes look at how Because of Them comes to life and want to help me cross the finish line, please fill out the application form linked below:

👉 Apply Here!

Thank you all so much for riding along with me on this journey. Your support means the world.

— Zoraida Barrera

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