Embracing My Inner Egoísta Fueled My Dreams in Comedy and Acting

Sasha Merci as Josefina in "La Egoísta" by Erlina Ortiz at Philadelphia Theatre Company. (Image Source: Mark Garvin)

Soy Demasiado, a special issue for Juntos, celebrates Latinas who are reclaiming what it means to be "too much." Read the stories here.

In a Dominican family, women are often raised to be the glue that holds everyone together. From a young age, we're taught to be reliable, dependable, and emotionally steadfast. Our role is clear: support the family, sometimes at the expense of our own dreams. In a culture that places so much emphasis on familismo - the idea that family comes first, always - I was raised to believe that my worth lay in how well I could build and maintain a nest for others to rest on. Following dreams that didn't fit into this vision for our family wasn't just discouraged; it was almost unimaginable.

For me, the journey of embracing my own dreams meant challenging the very foundation of those values. Choosing to leave New York and move to Los Angeles in 2018 to chase a career in acting and comedy felt like an act of rebellion. It was the most selfish thing I could have done - or at least that's how my family made me feel about it. They would ask why I'd choose this uncertain path, and whenever I missed family gatherings or drama erupted back home, I'd get calls suggesting that things would've been different if I had been there.

The decision to move and the aftermath were agonizing, loaded with guilt and self-doubt. Each missed holiday or family celebration was a reminder of the expectations I was defying. As the person in the family who would set boundaries, I became "the difficult one," the selfish one. At times I questioned my choice, but I believed that putting my dreams first would allow me to break a cycle and live a life that set a new standard for what a Dominican woman could achieve.

Because deep down, I knew that if I had stayed, the generational issues would've persisted. My absence didn't cause them; it allowed me to see them more clearly and validated my choice to carve a new path.

Of course, creating a new path for oneself isn't easy. Self-doubt creeps in, and generational trauma can convince you to believe the very ideas you're trying to break free from. But I realized that being perceived as an "egoísta" by people you love often isn't about malice; it's rooted in the fear of what failure might do to you. Parents, especially, want to keep us safe, and they were taught to survive rather than thrive. Life was meant to be taken seriously, with roles assigned to keep the family's ecosystem stable. But times are changing, and Latinas can be whatever they choose to be.

In my role as Josefina in a play I recently starred in called "La Egoísta," I found a striking reflection of my own life. "La Egoísta" was written by Erlina Ortiz, produced by the Tony Award-winning production company Edgewood Entertainment, and directed by Tatyana-Marie Carlo. I shared the stage with Maria Gabriela González, who played my sister, as well as puppeteer Marisol Rosea Shapiro. I am deeply grateful to have shared the stage with such talented people. This project taught me the importance of putting art first; it inspired, moved, and encouraged audiences to look within themselves to see what they might lack or need to become. Through Josefina, I came to understand the importance of embracing the "egoísta" within.

Josefina, like me, is caught in the tug-of-war between individual dreams and family loyalty. Familismo is a beautiful value rooted in love and support, but it can also be a burden, especially for women. For Latinas, these expectations often translate into an unspoken rule that our dreams come second. Men are encouraged to be go-getters, while women are expected to be nesters, always sacrificing for the family. I realized that while familismo is nurturing, it can unintentionally limit women from reaching our full potential.

As my career in comedy and acting took off, I had to make sacrifices that many wouldn't understand. I missed weddings, birthdays, and other family gatherings. Over time, I came to understand that my boundaries were necessary - not an act of abandonment, but an assertion of self-respect.

It took years, but I've learned to say no, protect my time, and prioritize my well-being and mental health over guilt. I came to realize that by sacrificing myself, I wasn't helping anyone in the long run. To be my best self and a successful comedian and actress, I had to give myself permission to pursue what felt right, even if it went against everything I'd been taught.

While some relatives have come to understand, others still don't. When I say no to big family events, their disappointment is palpable. I've been called "too much" for prioritizing my career, but I'm grounded by the knowledge that by being true to myself, I'm honoring my family in my own way. I want to show that a Latina can chase her dreams, create success, and still love her family deeply.

Playing Josefina taught me so much about the power of choice. "La Egoísta" gave me a chance to express the conflict many Latinas face: wanting to stay close to our roots while also branching out to pursue our dreams. Familismo is beautiful, but for it to truly serve us, it must evolve to support every family member's dreams. Women deserve the freedom to dream big, to move away if they choose, and to redefine what family means to them.

To other career-driven Latinas, I say this: don't be afraid to embrace your inner egoísta. Protecting your dreams and setting boundaries for your well-being isn't selfish. Your ambitions are valid, and your goals are worth pursuing. When we make space for our growth, we're not abandoning our families; we're creating a legacy that shows future generations that they, too, can follow their passions unapologetically. I'm proud to be a Dominican woman carving a new path, and I hope that by embracing my dreams, I'm helping others to do the same.