Then I discovered the other half of my heritage. At 15, I found my long-lost Grandma Juanita, papi’s mom. She represented all I thought I wanted to be and I inherited her name. Initially, I was magnetically drawn to her — Grandma Juanita was and is–modern.

She goes to the salon every two weeks and along with facials gets her toes and nails well groomed usually with earth tone colors. At 72, she wears fitted jeans, high heels, owns tons of jewelry and showers herself with expensive perfume that makes me nauseous. If you looked in her make-up bag, you would think she had a life time membership for Clinique.

Grandma Juanita gets frequent flyer miles, goes to the malls and hosts parrandas—getting her groove on unashamedly. But she keeps her five-star reputation mostly by acting sophisticated and practicing etiquette.

When I first met her, she informed me of how she arrived to her highly esteemed status. As soon as she came from Puerto Rico, she worked. Then she married and had three children. However, her husband was a “macho man,” so she divorced him and raised the kids alone. She earned her education and took extra classes because she loves learning. She saved money, bought a casita and lived to give her children the best. She worked 35 years as a state employee and is now happily retired.

As I got to know her better, she described how she explored the beauty of Europe with her second husband, a German man. Together over fine wine, they would discuss politics, religion, philosophy, the arts and current events. Watching Telemundo kept her informed about celebrity gossip, a topic she loved to give her opinions about.

She was an accomplished woman in my opinion, and I was proud of her. I was impressed by her success. She gave a sense of empowerment: I can be anything I want to be. But behind all her success there were a lot of struggles too. I became intrigued by her, especially when she would tell me stories about my dad, her youngest, who is schizophrenic. The sleepless nights and hopeless days battling against his outbursts and fits of rage drained her, but also strengthen her. She never gave up on him.

I have to admit, Grandma Juanita was modern and I was attracted to this. She had her own mind and was strong in her attitude and beliefs. I coveted her wealth of knowledge and her individuality.

But her modern views sometimes shocked me. For example, she once gave me permission to have sex as long as I was smart. “Young people have biological needs,” she said with a smirk. Wela would say it’s better to stay a senorita until marriage.

This was when my struggle between them began. On different occasions, I began wishing Wela would be more like Grandma Juanita or that Grandma Juanita would be more like Wela.

At that point, I did not know how to appreciate them individually for who they are. I admire things about Wela such as her practical skills, virtues and her humble heart, but I desired things like Grandma Juanita’s success, self-sufficient and independent style. I was torn between them until I discovered, I didn’t need to be.

I love both my abuelitas. I realize, now that I am grown, I am a fine balance of both. I enjoy traveling—expanding my horizons like Grandma Juanita. I’m independent, strong-minded, opinionated and stylish. Yet, these things are rooted in values I inherited from Wela. I am modest and pure—always being ladylike. I seek to put the interest of others before my own, Grandma Juanita acknowledges me saying, “You are wise beyond your years.”

I trace most of my identity back to Wela’s traditional values that are enhanced in me by Grandma Juanita’s modern sensibility. Together they have influenced my character and conduct, molding me into a dignified, balanced Latina.