Fragments of influence
How a date conversation and a Emicida's musical breakup made me reflect on our reach and limitations.
📍LONG STORY, SHORT
What parts of people do we truly know and admire? This week, I explore the fragments we cherish in others, the disconnect between public admiration and private realities, and why these contradictions fuel my writing.
It was our third date. I wanted to get to know him better, so I took a deck of conversation starter cards. We sat on a bench in Long Beach, CA overlooking the ocean on a starry spring night. I shuffled the cards and he drew one:
“Who are your heroes?”
Perfect, I thought. This would reveal what he valued in others.
“I don’t have heroes,” he answered.
Great way to kill the conversation.
But then he explained: he admires certain qualities in people, specific portions of their lives—the parts they share publicly. No one is better than others, so he has no heroes or idols.
That insight has proven true throughout our six years of marriage, and recently made me reflect on my own relationship with admiration.
Last Friday, my favorite rapper Emicida announced his brother Fióti would no longer represent his artistic career after decades of collaboration. The brief announcement sparked immediate speculation among fans about what happened between the brothers.
This brought me back to that beach conversation. I love Emicida’s music—I even held a sign at his Miami concert saying “AmarElo saved my life.” That album became my refuge during deep depression. His lyrics helped me feel again when I couldn’t.
But I don’t know Emicida or his brother personally. I only know their work and what they've chosen to share. Public figures carry a mystique—we see only what's presented before cameras or microphones.
This applies even to people close to us. Whether we admire a parent, friend, or coworker, we’re still seeing fragments of who they truly are. We admire them despite—sometimes because of—their flaws and mistakes.
I've wrestled with this concept for years. I advocate for gender equality while witnessing domestic violence, sexism, and biphobia within my own family.
The disconnect is painful.
But perhaps that’s exactly why I write. These issues aren’t abstract theories to me—they’re lived realities that have shaped my perspective. These problems hit so close to home that I need to write about them.
As we mark the eighth edition of this newsletter, readers have shared how my words resonated with their experiences. These connections remind me that vulnerability creates community, and that’s where real change begins.
For years, I measured my worth through external validation. Through therapy, I’m learning that my own validation matters most. I write because it matters to me. I love it. I need to express my thoughts, and it’s magical when my writing helps me to connect with others who also envision another way of living.
That’s the beauty of creating art. While I might not see the change I wish for at home, I find joy in living my truth here, in our barefoot circle.
📌 NOTE TO SELF
Because of the promise I made to my nine-year-old self to never accept that “men are just like that,” I continue working toward change, even when it feels impossible. Here are some practices that I need to constantly remind myself to stay true to my path:
First, patience matters — and it’s not everyday I have it.
Change rarely happens overnight, especially with family patterns that run generations deep. My therapist reminds me that being consistent with my values is more important than seeing immediate results.
Second, boundaries speak louder than words.
When I refuse to participate in certain conversations or leave when things get toxic, it makes a stronger statement than any lecture could.
Third, celebrate the tiny shifts.
My sister and I talked about feminism last month—a small opening that wouldn’t have happened years ago. These micro-moments matter.
Finally, accept that influence isn’t control.
I can share my truth, live my values, and still respect that others walk their own paths. Sometimes the seeds we plant take years to sprout.
How about you? Have you found ways to inspire change in your closest circles?
Your tips and ideas are welcome!
♻️ FULL CIRCLE
In my personal journey of being guided by my values, it's been transformative to connect and disconnect from people. Here are some things that have been influencing my life recently:
📚 READ: For Portuguese readers, our book club read “Descolonizando Afetos,” by Geni Nuñez last month. A book that helps us to think about other ways of living without dictating others’ lives. For English readers, “How Beautiful We Were,” by Imbolo Mbue, a book about origins, changes and revolution.
🎧 LISTEN: For Portuguese listeners, in this episode of “Sapa Justa” podcast, host
talks with lawyer and researcher Nathálya Ananias about healthy and unhealthy relationship dynamics and shares strategies for creating the connections we truly desire.✊🏽 ACT: If you’re in Miami on 04/12, as part of Black Maternal Health Week, join Florida Access Network to table The Great Community Kickback, a vibrant day of joy, connection, and support for parents, families, and birthworkers hosted by Central Florida Birth Network!
🗣️ SHARE: Is there someone whose art, words, or actions changed something in you, even if you only know a small piece of who they are? How do you reconcile admiring someone with knowing you may never see their whole story?
Stay curious and courageous,
Ana Clara Otoni 💛
This week's newsletter made me think about this phrase: "Never meet your heroes". We are all a mix of good and bad and some of those are even subjective. Nevertheless, we have to keep sharing our truth and hoping it will make the world better. Keep up the good work, my friend.
Wow, I'm thrilled Sapa Justa got recommended! It means so much to me that this episode resonated as much over there as it did here. I truly appreciate your constant support it really makes all the difference!