Lizzy Rodríguez

Today is International Women's Day. A day that, in theory, exists to highlight struggles, remember those who fought before us, and point out everything that still needs to be done. But in practice, for many, it has become an excuse to send a generic "congratulations" message, as if something had been achieved. I am a woman. I know that. I live it every day. I don't need a reminder in the form of a mass message with flower and heart emojis. But there's something about these automatic "congratulations on being a woman" messages that drives me a little crazy. Because being a woman is not a celebration. It's a complex reality, sometimes beautiful, sometimes burdensome, sometimes dangerous. I don't need to be congratulated for existing. I need to be respected. I need to be seen. I didn't earn anything. I was born a woman. That's not an achievement, it's a starting point. And no, it's not my birthday. It's not Mother...

Hello, community. As a writer, my profile is public. It's an open door for readers, colleagues, and interesting debates. But sometimes, through that same door, something else crawls in: the audacity of someone who thinks a direct message is a VIP pass to ignore all dignity. Today I want to share a case. Not to give importance to the sender, but to highlight the importance of the response. The names, obviously, are changed. The arrogance, sadly, is 100% original. The Dialogue (or the monologue with tiny interruptions of reality): Him: (After a "hello, how are you?" and a compliment that probably works on… someone) Where are you from? Me: I'm from Querétaro, Mexico. And I'm married. (Here, folks, we call this setting a boundary. In bold, underlined, and with a period the size of a planet.) Him: Married people are good. I like older women. And like me, they should be understanding. Me: Congratulations. May you find one on your path. (First attempt at a polite deflect...

I probably won't ever write a bestseller like so many authors today—because my novels aren't as "sweet" as they're "supposed to be." My books show you realities that people deny and romanticize; realities that hurt. Toxic relationships, for example. I have two published books: Velvet Scars and Poesía Ciega Para un Cínico (Blind Poetry for a Cynic). They're not a series, but they both show you how a relationship destined to fail unfolds from the very beginning. Yes, there can be attraction. That feeling that something is irresistible and different. But there also has to be a line between what's healthy and what's not. That's how I write. I'm autistic. I was diagnosed as an adult. That diagnosis didn't change who I am—it gave me language for who I'd always been. For years, I watched people the way a biologist watches a species I wasn't sure I belonged to. I learned to mask, to perform, to smile when I was drownin...

By Lizzy Rodríguez Some news makes you smile. And some news makes you laugh out loud—especially when it involves poetic justice, forgotten lawsuits, and the return of the kings of politically incorrect comedy. After 25 years, the Wayans brothers (Marlon, Shawn, and Keenen Ivory) are finally back in control of their most beloved franchise: Scary Movie. The sixth installment drops June 5, 2026 , and it brings back the original cast: Anna Faris (Cindy), Regina Hall (Brenda), and of course, the Wayans crew both in front of and behind the camera . But like anything worth a damn, this comeback comes with drama. Actually, three dramas: the story of how they got robbed of their rights in the first place, the backlash from some feminist groups in Argentina who are already trying to cancel the movie without having seen it, and the most hilarious detail of all—Harvey Weinstein, the predator producer who kicked them off their own franchise, wanted Scary Movie to be "less sexual....

By Lizzy Rodriguez A few years ago, a 14-year-old boy took his own life after having intense conversations with a Daenerys Targaryen character on a roleplay platform called Character.AI. His parents sued the company. Their argument: the AI didn't have enough safety filters. A few days ago, a 36-year-old man in Miami did the same thing. His conversation partner was Gemini, Google's artificial intelligence. His father now accuses the company of driving him into delusion with conspiracy theories and not doing enough to stop him. And me, reading these news stories, I can't help but think about how we're looking in the wrong direction. 🧩 The First Filter Isn't in the Machine No artificial intelligence, no matter how advanced, can replace the role of a present adult. When a minor spends hours talking to a fictional character, when an adult immerses himself in increasingly intense conversations with a chatbot, the question shouldn't be "what filters d...

By Lizzy Rodriguez Scrolling through Facebook, I stopped when I saw the word "autistic" and the image I'm sharing below with that headline. It gave me... let's say, rage. Let me quote the article so you know exactly what I'm talking about: "A MOTHER'S SILENT BATTLE! 'I started crying like crazy' Luz Elena González breaks her silence and opens her heart talking about her son Santiago's AUTISM and mild cognitive disability diagnosis 💙😭✨🙏" The TV host revealed that receiving the news was devastating and described it without filters: "It's a shock because it's a loss. It's the loss of your dreams, it's the loss of your expectations." After eight years without clear answers, the confirmation hit like a bucket of ice water. "It was like someone dumped a bucket of cold water on me. I started crying like crazy, I calmed down and said 'let's move forward,'" she said emotionally. She ev...

There are moments in literary history that should be taught in schools. Not because they're deep—but because they're epically mischievous. One of them happened in 1985, when a scrawny 21-year-old from Bennington College, hungover and wearing a turtleneck, sat down across from Tina Brown—the editor of Vanity Fair—and took an assignment that would change his life. Just not the way she expected. We're talking, of course, about Bret Easton Ellis. And the time he and actor Judd Nelson sold one of the most powerful magazines in the world an article about the "coolest" spots in L.A. that turned out to be the lamest places they could dig up. Let's set the scene: Ellis was 21, had just published Less Than Zero, and was already being called "the voice of a generation." Tina Brown summoned him to the Algonquin Hotel, hit him with that laser-beam stare she had (his words, not mine), and asked for a profile of Judd Nelson—who she found, in her words, ...

Yesterday, February 23, 2026, the death of Robert Carradine was confirmed. To many, he was "Lizzie McGuire's dad." To those who followed him, he was an actor with decades of a career. To his family, he was a human being going through a fierce internal battle: bipolar disorder. And he died by suicide. I'm not going to speculate about his case. I didn't know him. But I am going to talk about bipolar disorder, because as a psychology student and as a neurodivergent person, I know that clear information saves lives. Or at least, it prevents us from continuing to repeat the same things. It's not "being in a bad mood" or "mood swings" Bipolar disorder isn't about being sad one day and happy the next. It's not an "intense" or "artistic" personality. It's a serious mental health condition, with a biological basis, that affects mood regulation in a profound and often devastating way. Those living with bipo...

I have children. I have nieces and nephews. And I have memory. I remember being a little girl who was told that if I didn't study, I would be nobody. I remember growing up hearing more orders than hugs. I remember looking at the adults around me and feeling like they didn't see me. Today I study psychology. Not to become somebody. I am already somebody. I study because I love it, because I want to understand, because I want to help. And when I think about children — all children — I think about that: about them being seen. About them not growing up feeling invisible. About them having the right to be heard, protected, cared for. There are children who suffer in silence. There are children who stay quiet because no one ever asked. There are children who learn too soon that the world is not a safe place. I can't change everything. But I can do something. I can write. I can raise my voice. I can study to understand better. I can, when the time comes, reach out my h...

Tengo hijos. Tengo sobrinos. Y tengo memoria. Recuerdo ser una niña a la que le decían que si no estudiaba no sería nadie. Recuerdo haber crecido escuchando más órdenes que abrazos. Recuerdo mirar a los adultos y sentir que no me veían. Hoy estudio psicología. No para ser alguien. Ya soy alguien. Estudio porque me gusta, porque quiero entender, porque quiero ayudar. Y cuando pienso en los niños —todos los niños— pienso en eso: en que los vean. En que no crezcan sintiéndose invisibles. En que tengan derecho a ser escuchados, protegidos, cuidados. Hay niños que sufren en silencio. Hay niños que callan porque nadie les preguntó. Hay niños que aprenden demasiado pronto que el mundo no es un lugar seguro. No puedo cambiarlo todo. Pero puedo hacer algo. Puedo escribir. Puedo alzar la voz. Puedo estudiar para entender mejor. Puedo, cuando sea el momento, tender la mano. A veces me preguntan: "¿Por qué te importa tanto? Si tienes hijos propios, ¿no basta con ocuparte de ellos?...

I used to enjoy going downtown. Walking, looking, getting lost among the people. But today it wasn't the same. It was hot. Hotter than before. Or maybe it's me, I can't tolerate it as well as I used to. People overwhelmed me more than I remember. Bodies passing by, voices crossing paths, fragments of conversations I didn't ask to hear. And there I was, in the middle of it all, feeling like it didn't make sense. That we were all going somewhere with faces that, at that moment, were just faces to me. But no. Faces that I perceive as faceless. And yet, I couldn't help doing what I always do. What I've done since I was a child, long before I knew why I looked at the world that way. I started to observe them. To imagine. To write about them in my head. That woman talking on the phone as she walks quickly, frowning. Is she arguing with her partner? Or is it work? Or maybe she just got some news and needs to tell someone right away, even if she's wa...

   Conversación sobre legados y la arquitectura invisible del cine Por Lizzy Rodríguez Febrero 2026 La primera vez que hablé con Peter Iacangelo III no sabía que estaba hablando con el hijo de Lou, ese actor de rostro inolvidable que aparecía en  Fight Club  y en mil comedias de los 90. Tampoco sabía que estaba hablando con un Power Ranger, aunque eso, creo, es algo que uno debería saber siempre. Pero Peter no es de esos que sueltan su currículum en la primera conversación. Peter es de los que preguntan primero, de los que escuchan, de los que esperan. Cuando uno conoce a un stuntman de Hollywood, espera encontrarse con otra cosa. Con el físico, sí, eso está: el hombre tiene la estructura de alguien que ha pasado décadas lanzándose por escaleras y recibiendo golpes con gracia y técnica dignas de admiracion. Pero luego está la mirada. Hay algo en la forma en que Peter te sostiene la conversación, en cómo responde sin prisas y con una so...