Escape to Mexico
Chapter One - excerpt(s) |
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Ditch the baggage, cross the border. It's never too late to start over.
Español
March 23, 2025
by Cyn Posner
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Some people move to Mexico and San Miguel for convenience, the culture, the weather, the affordability, or to flee from the political nightmares happening on the other side of the wall.
Not me, I landed here running away from my toxic life in La La Land, and ultimately from myself. Of course, the mess of myself followed me. "New town, different shit show, same me."
So I wrote a book about my Escape to Mexico, because it's cheaper than therapy. Psychotherapists used to terrify me because they were my first drug dealers: BigPharma, BigHigh, BigBills.
Left my Xanax & anxiety in America. It's not just a book, it's a break free playbook.
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Here in San Miguel at least I gained a new perspective to frame the dark cave I had crawled into, and may still be in. But, at least now I'm enjoying life in paradise here with you all.
My story started when I caught the love of my life having an affair and I had an existential meltdown, caused by his infidelities, and also my own toxic life working in Hollywood where I had to maintain the endless treadmill of that rat race.
To be able to deal with life I spiraled out on Xanax, and weed to wake & bake, and drank heavily at after work happy hours, and endlessly shopped for expensive designer crap that never filled the empty void in my closet, and of course found new men to try and fix me.
Have you ever been there? It sucks.
Here's a sample preview from Chapter One: The Stalker, which opens with me doing a sketchy drive by my boyfriend's house in search of "evidence" and I see a skinny model come out his front door and walk down the street. Clearly he knew I was on to him:
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Excerpt(s)
What the hell? Who is that? I trail her like a ghost, headlights off, until she finally stops two blocks down at her car—My gut twists. She's about to climb in when I pull up, roll down my window, and wave at her, smiling. Gotta play nice if I want any answers. "Hey, who are you?" I ask, trying not to sound like a total psycho stalker.
She narrows her eyes, sarcasm dripping: "No, who are you?"
I swallow hard. "I'm Nick's girlfriend."
Her face twists into a smug grin, every bit as icy as her tone. "Oh, poor you. I'm his new girlfriend."
WTF? I snap, "No, you're the ho he makes park down the street."
She lets out a vicious cackle, "Rather be the ho who gets her rent paid than the stupid bitch he's lying to."
Wait, what did she just say?
I replay her words in my head, making sure I heard it correctly. She said it so smoothly, like she'd rehearsed that line a hundred times like a script she's auditioning for, waiting for the moment to drop it on me.
My head spins. It's obvious they talked about me and Nick warned her about his psycho girlfriend telling her to park down the street. My instincts scream for me to leap out of the car and gouge her eyes out.
I sit shaking in shock. My worst nightmare is officially real - but now what? If I storm in and confront him, it's over. If I drive home and calm down, maybe there's a slim chance to fix this and salvage whatever is left. My mind spirals: What the hell did I do wrong? Was I too clingy, too selfish, not fulfilling his needs? Or is he just another Hollywood scumbag who can't keep it in his pants, some sex-crazed maniac needing his next fix? So many questions, and none of them have good answers.
I know I should tear out of here, but my rage is locked and loaded now. I can't let Nick get away with this shit and walk away unscathed. I yank out a pint of vodka from the glove box, choke down a fiery swig of courage, then circle back to his driveway. Heart hammering, I march up to his door and stab the bell. I can hardly breathe, terrified of what the hell he's going to say.
A minute later, a wild-eyed, bed-headed Nick peers out through the iron viewer,
"Sup?" he says, coolly. Icy blues staring at me from across the grill.
I force my voice steady trying to remain calm. "Who's the girl, Nick?"
He shrugs, trying to act all nonchalant, "What girl?"
"The one you made park down the street."
He roars, "Stop stalking me!" Then slams the viewer shut in my face.
Ufff. The air just got sucked out of me. Three words and I'm gutted.
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Stay tuned for Chapter Two.
Spoiler Alert: Eventually, in a moment of clarity, I realize I'm a disaster. I had to escape. Brilliantly, I got on a dating app for a quick fix and found a new hot Latino in San Miguel. I came down. I met him. I fell in love... not with him, but with our idyllic town here in the mountains of Mexico.
Ditch the baggage, cross the border, it's never too late to start over.
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Escape to Mexico is available at the Biblioteca and on Amazon
Get a hardcopy for me to sign for you.
I do book club readings in exchange for chocolate.
De corazon a corazon / from my heart to yours,
Cyn Posner
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Cyn Posner, bi-cultural and bi-lingual, was raised in an ashram by a Mexican mother and American father. While studying theater and film (USF Tampa), dancing and singing, she cut a bi-lingual pop album and video (Warners). She toured with Latin headliners throughout Mexico, then got a gig touring the US with the Tran-siberian Orchestra.
Cyn's career moved behind the scenes with the William Morris Endeavor as a Jr. Agent, then the Joan Jett's film company to help produce "The Runaways." Her love for production and writing took off with a first feature for Amazon, "Undateable John" which is now a pilot in development for WB.
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