I compare myself to the toughest kind of wood I work with: guachipilín and chocuao. They don’t get pests; they put up with the heavy rain and bright sun, and they remain intact. I’ve endured great storms in life, but I’ve remained strong and continued fighting.

I met the father of my children when I was quite young. Almost immediately after starting a life with him, he began abusing me. He would hit, kick, beat, and insult me. One time, he beat me so forcefully that I had a miscarriage. Even then, he insulted me and accused me of being a lesser or weaker kind of woman for losing my unborn child.

He would always insist that I could never live without him. He manipulated me into thinking that I needed him and that women cannot survive on their own. When I finally left him, I had a hard time feeding my children. That’s when my son had the idea of making rocking chairs from wood to sell them. He doesn’t say much, but he did say to me, “Enough is enough; I will not stand by as you and my sisters go hungry.” He pushed me to leave his father and to start this business. With the help of the credits, I have expanded my business, my working space, and my team.

Now I feel completely different. I know women can succeed on their own. That’s what I tell my daughters: As long as you keep your sights on the goal, you will achieve what you set out to accomplish. All you need is faith in yourself and confidence.

Today I am the head of my household. I am the boss, and I am a woman capable of succeeding at anything I choose.

I started working when I was eight years old. My mother would tell us, “As long as you are making a living, nobody will take advantage of you. You will not have to put up with anything or anyone.” We worked hard, my sisters and I, and we covered the rent and food for the younger ones.

I fell in love with my first boyfriend. He would say things to me that I wasn’t used to hearing from other young men. My mom disapproved of the relationship, so I left my home with him.

We had three children together. I was so young and innocent that I didn’t even know where my first daughter would come out from; I didn’t know what it meant to be in labor. Later on, when I told my mother about the abuse, she would say, “You brought this on yourself, you see? This is why I put you to work early on, so you wouldn’t have to put up with anyone—just work and succeed on your own.”

He would beat me, starve me, and take off with other women. Finally I had the courage to leave and moved in with my mother. While there I met another man who fell in love with me. Initially, I was afraid of repeating the same pattern. This man offered to help me raise my three kids. We had a daughter together. He had also been beating me. One time he broke my nose and locked me up, hiding me from my family and my neighbors. Finally he went to prison.

My first microloan was for three thousand córdovas (the equivalent to $98 dollars). I had worked with metals, welding and making ornaments, silverware, and chandeliers my whole life. When they came they gave us talks and guidance on the importance of investing. Since that first loan, I’ve gone through 20 cycles, give or take. My business has continued to flourish, especially with the help of my children, my son-in-law, and my granddaughter.

Now, people wait for me at the market where I bring my products. They ask me to come more often. Others come to me for training, to learn from my own craft. I think about my mother’s wisdom. Although I wish she had sent me to school instead of putting me to work, she was right. I’m a strong person. I’m solid. My children admire me; they work with me. I barely even work anymore. I’ve passed the baton.