SECOND Wind

If you’ve ever sat in the audience of a Moth performance—where everyday people step up to a mic and tell true stories from their lives—you know the feeling. That quiet electricity. The raw vulnerability. The surprising laughter. The lump in your throat.

Now imagine that happening here in Mazatlán.

That’s exactly what we’re doing with Mazatlán Monologues, a new live storytelling event I thought about and created under the umbrella of Mazatlán Film & Theater. It’s our local version of The Moth: real people, real stories, no notes, no acting—just truth, courage, and a mic.

Why? Because storytelling is connection.

It’s easy in expat communities to stay in your own lane, your own friend group, your own bubble. But when someone gets up and tells a story about heartbreak, childhood, immigration, transformation, addiction, joy, loss, or love—it cracks something open. We start to see each other differently. We recognize our shared humanity. We lean in.

For me, this project also speaks to a part of myself I’ve long wanted to fulfill: the performer, the actor, the emcee with a purpose. I’ve always loved being on stage—not for the spotlight, but for the energy exchange. And this isn’t theater with scripts or costumes; it’s raw, unfiltered storytelling that invites the audience to feel with the storyteller, not just watch them.

And for the community? This is a way to build bridges. Between locals and expats. Between English and Spanish speakers (yes, we hope to grow into bilingual events!). Between strangers who might never cross paths otherwise. One story at a time.

We want everyone in our community to feel welcome and included—locals, expats, part-timers, newcomers, and especially our Mexican neighbors who are the heart of Mazatlán. While our first events may be in English, our vision is to grow into a bilingual storytelling space where Spanish and English stories share the same stage. Stories transcend language—they’re about humanity, emotion, and connection. Whether you’re telling your story or listening to someone else’s, this is a space for all of us to come together, to learn from each other, and to celebrate the richness and diversity of the place we call home.

We held our first event this summer and the response was better than I could’ve dreamed. Nervous voices turned steady. Laughter rippled through the room. Tears were quietly wiped away. And everyone left feeling just a little more human.

That’s the magic.

So if you’ve got a story—big or small, funny or bittersweet—come join us. Or come sit in the audience and witness the bravery of others. This isn’t just entertainment. It’s community-building. It’s soul work. And it’s happening right here in Mazatlán.

Because when one person tells their truth, we all feel a little braver.

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