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Migrant Heart: Essays About Things I Can't Forget
An ambitious memoir in essays by beloved bestselling author Reyna Grande that illuminates the hidden cost of the American Dream and the complex journey of healing that follows survival.
What is the true power of stories? Can they heal the jagged edges of a traumatic childhood? Is the cost of telling the story worth the price of the cure?
Reyna Grande has spent her career capturing the raw reality of life across borders. In this intricate and deeply intimate memoir-in-essays, the author of the landmark memoirs The Distance Between Us and A Dream Called Home again turns her gaze inward to explore the scars left by migration and the ongoing work of stitching herself back together.
With her signature blend of sophistication and raw honesty, Grande interrogates how living between two nations, two languages, and two identities has shaped the woman, mother, and writer she has become. Moving from the legacy of violence in her hometown of Iguala, Mexico, to a bittersweet family vacation in Europe spent reconciling her own impoverished past with her children’s world of abundance, she uncovers startling truths about the nature of survival.
Whether being racially profiled in the Arizona borderlands or finding unexpected wisdom from the slugs in her garden, Grande unflinchingly How do we bridge the gap between who we were and who we have become? How do we turn pain into power? When memory threatens to define us, how can we use story to heal while still honoring our boundaries?
Migrant Heart is a powerful testament to Grande’s role as a storyteller and cultural witness. It expands our understanding of life in the United States and the complex people who cross and live within its borders. It is an essential read for the seekers, the dreamers, and anyone who believes in the enduring, transformative power of finding one’s voice.
What is the true power of stories? Can they heal the jagged edges of a traumatic childhood? Is the cost of telling the story worth the price of the cure?
Reyna Grande has spent her career capturing the raw reality of life across borders. In this intricate and deeply intimate memoir-in-essays, the author of the landmark memoirs The Distance Between Us and A Dream Called Home again turns her gaze inward to explore the scars left by migration and the ongoing work of stitching herself back together.
With her signature blend of sophistication and raw honesty, Grande interrogates how living between two nations, two languages, and two identities has shaped the woman, mother, and writer she has become. Moving from the legacy of violence in her hometown of Iguala, Mexico, to a bittersweet family vacation in Europe spent reconciling her own impoverished past with her children’s world of abundance, she uncovers startling truths about the nature of survival.
Whether being racially profiled in the Arizona borderlands or finding unexpected wisdom from the slugs in her garden, Grande unflinchingly How do we bridge the gap between who we were and who we have become? How do we turn pain into power? When memory threatens to define us, how can we use story to heal while still honoring our boundaries?
Migrant Heart is a powerful testament to Grande’s role as a storyteller and cultural witness. It expands our understanding of life in the United States and the complex people who cross and live within its borders. It is an essential read for the seekers, the dreamers, and anyone who believes in the enduring, transformative power of finding one’s voice.
Audible Audio
First published May 12, 2026
About the author
Reyna Grande
18 books1,189 followersReyna Grande is the author of three novels, Across a Hundred Mountains, which received a 2007 American Book Award; Dancing with Butterflies, which received a 2010 International Latino Book Award, and A Ballad of Love and Glory, which was a Los Angeles Times Book Club selection in 2022. In her memoir, The Distance Between Us (Atria, 2012) Reyna recounts her experiences as a child left behind in Mexico when her parents emigrated to the U.S. in search of work, and her own journey to the U.S. as an undocumented immigrant at the age of nine. Its sequel, A Dream Called Home, was published in 2018. Her latest book is Somewhere We Are Human: Authentic Voices on Migration, Survival, and New Beginnings, an anthology by and about undocumented Americans.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 125 reviews
June 5, 2026
Reyna Grande is one of my favorite authors and I have read almost all of her books. This memoir, narrated by the author in the audiobook, just made me appreciate her more. I loved this collection of essays in which she reflects on her experiences as a writer, immigrant, and mother. These essays explore themes of family, identity, immigration, trauma, health, age, and American culture. She shared unflinchingly about her difficulties with her parents, move to the United States, educational and word experiences, and life as a writer. The parts about trauma recovery were especially impactful in my counseling work. The sections about parenting were incredibly relevant for me.
I highly recommend this memoir, but definitely read her other books first!
I highly recommend this memoir, but definitely read her other books first!
September 2, 2026
This book makes my scars ache while it soothes my heart. What a courageous woman.
September 26, 2026
This was a great collection of essays written by a Mexican immigrant who came to the US as a 9 year old crossing the border illegally with her father and 2 siblings. She talks about her traumas as a child and immigrant. She also talks about her success as a college graduate who becomes a writer and raises her two children to be proud of their heritage and the opportunities they have here. She has written fiction and non fiction books about the migrant experience.
July 7, 2026
Reyna Grande (b. 1975) is a Mexican-American novelist and memoirist. 2026's Migrant Heart is her third memoir; I've previously read and greatly enjoyed her two prior memoirs, 2012's The Distance Between Us (about her childhood in Mexico, early family trauma, and precarious border crossing) and 2018's A Dream Called Home (about her later teens and twenties in California and how her family fared; see my review here).
Migrant Heart is a series of essays that largely center on Grande's 30s and 40s, though it's not a linearly-told story like her prior two memoirs. I listened to the audiobook narrated by Grande (with a brief chapter read by Grande's daughter Eva) and found these essays poignant, bittersweet, and poetic, much like her prior books, and with Grande's characteristic humility and perspective. What's always struck me the most about Grande's memoirs is how she is able to sublimate pain into art, much like many musicians and artists who make careers from this double-edged-sword of a skill. The essay I found most surprising was about Grande struggling to communicate in her native language of Spanish, given that she left Mexico at the age of 9 and never had formal Spanish language schooling again; communicating with Spanish-speaking family members isn't an issue but she writes about embarrassment and humiliation when being interviewed in Spanish language media and critiques she's received on self-translations of her books into Spanish. Grande's essays about raising two first generation Mexican-American kids and how she's fought, not always successfully, to break chancla culture (the stereotype of Latina matriarchs physically disciplining their children with sandals or slippers), to make her children understand how and where she grew up, and her complicated relationship with Mexican hometown (Iguala, in the Mexican state of Guerrero - infamous of late due to a 2014 mass kidnapping incident) were also excellent.
Further reading: other immigrant stories I'd highly recommend
Missed Translations: Meeting the Immigrant Parents Who Raised Me by Sopan Deb
The Worlds I See: Curiosity, Exploration, and Discovery at the Dawn of AI by Fei-Fei Li
Beautiful Country by Qian Julie Wang
My statistics:
Book 120 for 2026
Book 2426 cumulatively
Migrant Heart is a series of essays that largely center on Grande's 30s and 40s, though it's not a linearly-told story like her prior two memoirs. I listened to the audiobook narrated by Grande (with a brief chapter read by Grande's daughter Eva) and found these essays poignant, bittersweet, and poetic, much like her prior books, and with Grande's characteristic humility and perspective. What's always struck me the most about Grande's memoirs is how she is able to sublimate pain into art, much like many musicians and artists who make careers from this double-edged-sword of a skill. The essay I found most surprising was about Grande struggling to communicate in her native language of Spanish, given that she left Mexico at the age of 9 and never had formal Spanish language schooling again; communicating with Spanish-speaking family members isn't an issue but she writes about embarrassment and humiliation when being interviewed in Spanish language media and critiques she's received on self-translations of her books into Spanish. Grande's essays about raising two first generation Mexican-American kids and how she's fought, not always successfully, to break chancla culture (the stereotype of Latina matriarchs physically disciplining their children with sandals or slippers), to make her children understand how and where she grew up, and her complicated relationship with Mexican hometown (Iguala, in the Mexican state of Guerrero - infamous of late due to a 2014 mass kidnapping incident) were also excellent.
Further reading: other immigrant stories I'd highly recommend
Missed Translations: Meeting the Immigrant Parents Who Raised Me by Sopan Deb
The Worlds I See: Curiosity, Exploration, and Discovery at the Dawn of AI by Fei-Fei Li
Beautiful Country by Qian Julie Wang
My statistics:
Book 120 for 2026
Book 2426 cumulatively
May 12, 2026
Such an ambitious memoir that hits all the raw points you don't expect. Reyna takes us on a complex journey of healing and the costs of the American Dream that is rarely mentioned but has a significant impact on BIPOC communities, especially Latinx peoples immigrated from Mexico or Central America. I found Reyna's storytelling so impactful as she explores everything from family trauma to living between two identities. This book expands our understanding of life in the United States and the nuanced people who cross and live within its borders. A book that cannot be missed, as its poignancy stays with you long after you put it down.
Thank you NetGalley & Primero Sueño Press for an early copy in exchange for an honest review!
Thank you NetGalley & Primero Sueño Press for an early copy in exchange for an honest review!
October 19, 2026
I picked this up for a reading challenge, and I’m so glad I did. This was beautifully written, and I appreciate the author’s vulnerability in sharing pieces of her story and journey.
June 2, 2026
4.5 stars
September 28, 2026
ця книга видавалася мені безкінечною, хоча початок і сама заявлена тема були дуже актуальними та багатообіцяючими - в сучасних оставинах тема міграції мені близька через друзів та інших знайомих, яких розкидало по всьому світу, багато свідчень про реалії адаптації в інших країнах стали вже фоном повсякденного життя.
але чим далі в розповідь, тим більше есе зливалися в одну велику кучу гучних обговорюваних тем з інтернету , при чому теза "за все хороше та проти всього поганого" не полишала сторінок цієї збірки до самого кінця. дуже відчувається що авторка хоче сподобатися своєму читачеві, але взагалі не зрозуміло що вона сама думає, які бачить способи вирішення проблем та за які принципи готова боротися, що врешті відштовхує та забирає простір для співчуття.
ближче до середини я втомилася від кількості повторюваних терапевтичних фраз та натягнутих метафор, і вже готова була поставити середню оцінку, аж тут з'явилися історії про менопаузу.
на жаль, я не отримала того, що очікувала від цієї книги, дуже розчарована.
але чим далі в розповідь, тим більше есе зливалися в одну велику кучу гучних обговорюваних тем з інтернету , при чому теза "за все хороше та проти всього поганого" не полишала сторінок цієї збірки до самого кінця. дуже відчувається що авторка хоче сподобатися своєму читачеві, але взагалі не зрозуміло що вона сама думає, які бачить способи вирішення проблем та за які принципи готова боротися, що врешті відштовхує та забирає простір для співчуття.
ближче до середини я втомилася від кількості повторюваних терапевтичних фраз та натягнутих метафор, і вже готова була поставити середню оцінку, аж тут з'явилися історії про менопаузу.
на жаль, я не отримала того, що очікувала від цієї книги, дуже розчарована.
May 8, 2026
Migrant Heart is a deeply reflective collection of essays examining immigration, memories, motherhood, and the complicated act of turning personal pain into public testimony. This collection feels very meditative, shaped not only by the wounds of childhood and displacement, but also by the emotional aftermath of sharing these wounds with the world. Grande writes with remarkable vulnerability, balancing intimate personal history with larger questions about storytelling in itself. Throughout the essays, she interrogates what it means to live between two languages, countries, and the different versions of oneself, all while confronting expectations placed upon immigrant writers who expose their trauma. Some of the book's strongest moments emerge from tension, particularly when Grande reflects on audience reactions, public visibility, and the learning curve that comes with establishing personal boundaries. This collection is emotionally heavy at times, but Grande's warmth and humor provide balance. Essays centered on gardening and aging add a thoughtful texture that compliments the more painful recollections elsewhere in the book. Even when certain themes recur, the essays remain cohesive and purposeful. Migrant Heart is a moving exploration of survival, self-definition, and the enduring power of storytelling. Thank you Primero Sueno Press for sending me a review copy. You can pick this up when it publishes May 12th, 2026 wherever you buy your books!
May 21, 2026
I enjoyed the uniqueness and variety of the writing style throughout the book and the book also sheds great insight into the life and struggles of someone who is fleeing to the states. The book is also filled with ignorance and incredibly offensive remarks towards law enforcement and government officials from someone who should be grateful she is even living in the country she is writing about. Rather than hold other countries accountable for their conditions the author pleads ignorance and encourages others to break the laws and illegally immigrate to the United States. While the humanitarian view is true to heart the author neglects to discuss the practicality of the U.S. not being able to just take in over a billion people who are wanting to move there. The author again follows the narrative of spreading hate towards the U.S. without looking at other countries around the world that have far stricter policies. My biggest encouragement for the author would be to talk to economists and statisticians and law enforcement to understand practicality and the horrors they face on a daily basis surrounding the claims she is making. The author also made several claims throughout the book that are only factual in opinion or based on social media rather than doing actual research to gain a full story and better understanding. The author regularly claims to be a victim, especially in her early education years, and expects everyone to meet her needs in unrealistic ways.
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
I just finished Migrant Heart by Reyna Grande, and I absolutely loved it. In her earlier books, Grande focused on the painful realities of her past, and rightfully so. Those stories carried the weight of trauma and survival. But in this memoir, she makes it clear from the very beginning that her intention is different. This time, her goal is to search for light within the very same hardships that once felt only dark.
She beautifully captures the struggle of growing up between cultures, assimilating into American life while slowly and almost without realizing it losing parts of her Mexican identity. What moved me most was her conscious effort to reframe her experiences, not to deny the pain, but to find meaning and growth within it.
As a first generation Cuban American, this book felt deeply personal. Spanish was my first language, and growing up in Miami kept me closely connected to my roots. After moving to Charlotte a decade ago, I began to feel parts of that identity soften. My Spanish is not as effortless, and the Miami Cuban accent that once shaped my voice has faded.
This book is thoughtful, reflective, and beautifully written. It made me think about identity, belonging, and the quiet ways we change over time. I felt seen in these pages and highly recommend it.
She beautifully captures the struggle of growing up between cultures, assimilating into American life while slowly and almost without realizing it losing parts of her Mexican identity. What moved me most was her conscious effort to reframe her experiences, not to deny the pain, but to find meaning and growth within it.
As a first generation Cuban American, this book felt deeply personal. Spanish was my first language, and growing up in Miami kept me closely connected to my roots. After moving to Charlotte a decade ago, I began to feel parts of that identity soften. My Spanish is not as effortless, and the Miami Cuban accent that once shaped my voice has faded.
This book is thoughtful, reflective, and beautifully written. It made me think about identity, belonging, and the quiet ways we change over time. I felt seen in these pages and highly recommend it.
October 14, 2026
Thank you to Goodreads, the author, Reyna Grande and Atria/Primero Sueni Press/Simon & Schuster for the opportunity to read "Migrant Heart" through Goodreads First Reads. This review reflects my own honest thoughts and feelings about the book.
"Migrant Heart", by Reyna Grande is a deeply moving and powerful book that reminds us of the strength of the human spirit and the possibility of rising above the circumstances we are born into.
The ending was especially beautiful and brought tears to my eyes. The image of Reyna's daughter gently nursing a monarch butterfly back to health until it was able to fly, became a touching symbol of the book's deeper message: sometimes, all it takes is a little help, kindness and the opportunity to heal, for something fragile to find its strength again.
Those closing words, "With a little help, we can rise above the circumstances we are born into. We can find the strength to survive. And we can learn to fly." touched me, deeply. They capture something universal about the human experience: our beginnings do not have to define our endings, and even after hardship, there is still room for healing, growth and new possibilities.
This is a book that stays with you after the final page. It's message of perserverance, compassion and hope is a beautiful reminder of how much a little kindness and support can mean and how even the most fragile among us can find the strength to spread our wings.
The closing words also brought the Pink Floyd song to mind, "Learning To Fly". There is something deeply moving about the idea of learning to spread your wings, rise above the things that hold you down and discover the possibility of flight. Both the song and the book left me thinking about the courage it takes to keep moving forward and the hope that exists in finding your own wings. It was a beautiful connection that made the ending of the book even more meaningful.
A truly touching and memorable read, that left me with tears in my eyes and hope in my heart.
"Migrant Heart", by Reyna Grande is a deeply moving and powerful book that reminds us of the strength of the human spirit and the possibility of rising above the circumstances we are born into.
The ending was especially beautiful and brought tears to my eyes. The image of Reyna's daughter gently nursing a monarch butterfly back to health until it was able to fly, became a touching symbol of the book's deeper message: sometimes, all it takes is a little help, kindness and the opportunity to heal, for something fragile to find its strength again.
Those closing words, "With a little help, we can rise above the circumstances we are born into. We can find the strength to survive. And we can learn to fly." touched me, deeply. They capture something universal about the human experience: our beginnings do not have to define our endings, and even after hardship, there is still room for healing, growth and new possibilities.
This is a book that stays with you after the final page. It's message of perserverance, compassion and hope is a beautiful reminder of how much a little kindness and support can mean and how even the most fragile among us can find the strength to spread our wings.
The closing words also brought the Pink Floyd song to mind, "Learning To Fly". There is something deeply moving about the idea of learning to spread your wings, rise above the things that hold you down and discover the possibility of flight. Both the song and the book left me thinking about the courage it takes to keep moving forward and the hope that exists in finding your own wings. It was a beautiful connection that made the ending of the book even more meaningful.
A truly touching and memorable read, that left me with tears in my eyes and hope in my heart.
September 16, 2026
In true Reyna fashion, I cried until my chest ached.
There’s something about the raw vulnerability that claws at your chest when Reyna speaks about her life that changes the perspective on everything. The complex relationships between family and being brought up to hold certain standards, beliefs and values that do not reflect or represent who you are that really makes you sit and think. I’m sure we have all had certain experiences similar to the ones Reyna share pero nunca podría imaginarme cruzar la frontera y seguir para delante because there is no other option. I will stand on the Reyna Grande hill and tell you that you that she is a must read author, whatever race you are. These types of authors are so important to read and understand more about the real life of what it is to be an Immigrant creating something for themselves and all of the issues they faced at such a young age.
This story is probably similar to a lot of other Immigrantes that never got the chance to speak on it.
There’s something about the raw vulnerability that claws at your chest when Reyna speaks about her life that changes the perspective on everything. The complex relationships between family and being brought up to hold certain standards, beliefs and values that do not reflect or represent who you are that really makes you sit and think. I’m sure we have all had certain experiences similar to the ones Reyna share pero nunca podría imaginarme cruzar la frontera y seguir para delante because there is no other option. I will stand on the Reyna Grande hill and tell you that you that she is a must read author, whatever race you are. These types of authors are so important to read and understand more about the real life of what it is to be an Immigrant creating something for themselves and all of the issues they faced at such a young age.
This story is probably similar to a lot of other Immigrantes that never got the chance to speak on it.
October 19, 2026
Really wanted to love this book but I feel like you need to read her past work to enjoy this one. Also felt like she was repeating the same events in each chapter just wording them differently. EDIT - I think this book leaves a new undocumented immigrant viewpoint and conflicts with the experiences of people I know who are undocumented. From my own experience, the undocumented immigrants I know never fully assimilated and created their own pockets of their native land in the United States. They have created community in the United States through the people they meet while working in the fields. Their trauma is still very much real, but the joy and support exist within the new people they meet that also share the same lived experiences, people that also remind them of those they left behind. Reyna, did not have that, creating a different experience, still traumatic nonetheless. I think these varying viewpoints are important in creating the bigger picture of immigrant experiences, and even with that reflection, my rating remains the same.
May 12, 2026
Happy Release Day to Migrant Heart 🥳 thank you so much to Primero Sueño Press for providing me with the ARC of this book. I finished it last night but figured posting my review on release day would be fun!
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Migrant Heart was a beautiful read. I loved getting to hear this author’s reflection on her life experiences, her journal as an author, and her own identities. I found pieces of myself in some of these essays that felt seen and heard through her words.
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I most definitely plan to pick up her other works she mentioned in this essay collection!
⭐⭐⭐ ⭐
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Migrant Heart was a beautiful read. I loved getting to hear this author’s reflection on her life experiences, her journal as an author, and her own identities. I found pieces of myself in some of these essays that felt seen and heard through her words.
.
I most definitely plan to pick up her other works she mentioned in this essay collection!
⭐⭐⭐ ⭐
Read
June 11, 2026This collection of essays touches on so many important themes. Reyna shares her journey of trauma, healing, and growth in spaces that ask us to shrink ourselves to belong, where our language and culture aren’t always welcomed, and where we’re sometimes made to feel out of place.
I appreciate her honesty in sharing her story and growth. It gives voice to experiences that are often silenced.
Thank you, @writerreynagrande , for yet another wonderful book and @primerosuenopress for the copy of this read.
I appreciate her honesty in sharing her story and growth. It gives voice to experiences that are often silenced.
Thank you, @writerreynagrande , for yet another wonderful book and @primerosuenopress for the copy of this read.
September 21, 2026
1.5 ⭐️s
I selected this book as part of the Goodreads challenge. I think I would have enjoyed her first book more. This book is a hodge podge of stories which left me less connected to each story as I may have been if written in a different style. Also, I caught myself having an inner conflict with several chapters such as the chapter entitled ‘Horror Story’. I had to override my initial reaction to her vision lost story in order to be more empathetic and view her experience from her lens rather than my personal reactions. For this, while I didn’t enjoy it because it was very uncomfortable, I am grateful for being forced to confront my bias, personal experiences and academic knowledge. The following chapter appears to be written in an outline format because it was read saying 1. Xxx A. Xxx 1a. Xxxx 2a. Xxxx and so on which did nothing to make for a smooth listening experience. I have other thoughts about some of the comments she makes throughout but it’s best to keep them to myself. Who would I recommend this book to? Someone who wants to pushed from their comfort zone, someone who wants to better understand generational trauma and the struggles of a trauma/abuse survivor, or someone who wants to hear experiences of someone who
has a very different background and personal experience than that of a white, middle class, college educated, midwest American female.
I selected this book as part of the Goodreads challenge. I think I would have enjoyed her first book more. This book is a hodge podge of stories which left me less connected to each story as I may have been if written in a different style. Also, I caught myself having an inner conflict with several chapters such as the chapter entitled ‘Horror Story’. I had to override my initial reaction to her vision lost story in order to be more empathetic and view her experience from her lens rather than my personal reactions. For this, while I didn’t enjoy it because it was very uncomfortable, I am grateful for being forced to confront my bias, personal experiences and academic knowledge. The following chapter appears to be written in an outline format because it was read saying 1. Xxx A. Xxx 1a. Xxxx 2a. Xxxx and so on which did nothing to make for a smooth listening experience. I have other thoughts about some of the comments she makes throughout but it’s best to keep them to myself. Who would I recommend this book to? Someone who wants to pushed from their comfort zone, someone who wants to better understand generational trauma and the struggles of a trauma/abuse survivor, or someone who wants to hear experiences of someone who
has a very different background and personal experience than that of a white, middle class, college educated, midwest American female.
October 8, 2026
This book! Such a beautifully written testament to the immigrant experience. I absolutely admire her writing style and loved the comparisons to the bees, butterflies, peaches, and all other beautiful aspects of nature that are mirrored in her life. My favorite chapters featured her relationship with her daughter and family. So raw, I loved it.
September 26, 2026
This is the first book of Reyna Grande' I have read. It is beautifully wtitten, honest and gritty and filled with details of her life's journey.
I learned from her story so much of the reality of being an immigrant.
I learned from her story so much of the reality of being an immigrant.
September 30, 2026
Not always the biggest essay collection fan but this was very solid
October 13, 2026
Powerful collection of essays - well-written and worth listening to as the author narrates the book
February 20, 2026
thank you netgalley for the arc! 🦋❤️🩹🐝🇲🇽 3.5/4 ⭐️ - i can't decide truthfully.
reyna is so honest and real in this book. she talks about very heavy subjects - alcoholism, death, grief, immigration, harsh family dynamics, sexual assault, fear of aging, to name a few. she really poured her heart out in this body of work, and i admire her greatly for this!
ive never read any of her previous work, and she mentions how each of her books were a labor of love. i loved reading about this very real and honest process of writing a book and the action that has to be taken to nurture it after its published. it isn't all butterflies and rainbows, like many things in life.
one section i absolutely loved was her section on language. while i did not grow up speaking spanish as i was the only POC (besides my cousin) in my family, i related to her so much as she mentioned her fear and anxiety of speaking broken spanish. her story is different than mine in many ways, but the anxiety surrounding the language is so valid. ❤️🩹
there were a few places where the book felt a little disjointed. we kind of skip around to a few topics that would relate for reyna within 1 chapter and it would just throw me off. i'd be like wait, we were talking about this, and now we're relating it to this that sorta kinda goes with this topic? that's the only reason this wasn't a 5 star for me! otherwise, i'm inclined to pick up another one of her books. i wish her nothing but success, from one latina to another 🤍
reyna is so honest and real in this book. she talks about very heavy subjects - alcoholism, death, grief, immigration, harsh family dynamics, sexual assault, fear of aging, to name a few. she really poured her heart out in this body of work, and i admire her greatly for this!
ive never read any of her previous work, and she mentions how each of her books were a labor of love. i loved reading about this very real and honest process of writing a book and the action that has to be taken to nurture it after its published. it isn't all butterflies and rainbows, like many things in life.
one section i absolutely loved was her section on language. while i did not grow up speaking spanish as i was the only POC (besides my cousin) in my family, i related to her so much as she mentioned her fear and anxiety of speaking broken spanish. her story is different than mine in many ways, but the anxiety surrounding the language is so valid. ❤️🩹
there were a few places where the book felt a little disjointed. we kind of skip around to a few topics that would relate for reyna within 1 chapter and it would just throw me off. i'd be like wait, we were talking about this, and now we're relating it to this that sorta kinda goes with this topic? that's the only reason this wasn't a 5 star for me! otherwise, i'm inclined to pick up another one of her books. i wish her nothing but success, from one latina to another 🤍
August 15, 2026
Reyna has easily become one of my favorite authors + her storytelling is *chef’s kiss*
September 17, 2026
Goodreads Fall 2026 challenge, Hispanic Heritage Month
July 12, 2026
I love when a book is informative, challenging, and thought provoking. 1000% recommend this quick read! Not only was it engaging, but the structure was so good.
Every chapter followed a different theme & writing style. Still, each chapter worked together to build onto the overarching plot and it read as a loose autobiography.
As a child of immigrants, I saw myself a lot in each story and I feel delighted that these books continue to be published.
Every chapter followed a different theme & writing style. Still, each chapter worked together to build onto the overarching plot and it read as a loose autobiography.
As a child of immigrants, I saw myself a lot in each story and I feel delighted that these books continue to be published.
October 1, 2026
★★★★★
“The reality is, sometimes our wings fail to carry us across the vast distances we yearn to go.”
I did not expect to relate to Migrant Hearts as deeply as I did.
I chose this book partly because I wanted to read a Hispanic author during Hispanic Heritage Month, and I expected to learn more about immigration, racism, assimilation, and Mexican American identity. I often make a point to read books about racism and patriarchy because I think it is important to keep examining the assumptions we absorb from the world around us. Migrant Hearts gave me another opportunity to do that with honesty and compassion.
Each time I read deeply about experiences outside my own, I feel my understanding widen. Not because I believe I begin from a place of malice, but because I know there are always things I have not lived, perspectives I have not considered, and pieces of history I do not yet know.
Grande never made me feel scolded into understanding. That was part of what I admired so much about her writing. She invites the reader to look more closely, to question, to notice, and to grow without turning curiosity into shame.
But Migrant Hearts became far more personal than that.
I related to Grande as a writer, as a mother, as a woman moving through trauma, as someone questioning what suffering means, if it has to mean anything at all, and as a woman confronting a changing body and menopause.
What impressed me most, though, was Grande’s extraordinary command of metaphor.
“Extraordinary” almost feels too small. Her metaphors are not decorations placed on top of her writing. They are the architecture underneath it. She can begin with eyesight, a peach tree, a fairy tale, a border, a body, or a single human encounter and slowly widen it until she is writing about identity, culture, aging, motherhood, trauma, immigration, invisibility, belonging, or the way we see one another.
She notices meaning where most of us would simply keep walking.
And her use of quotations is phenomenal. Grande is clearly exceptionally well read, but her intelligence never feels performative. She does not throw obscure references onto the page to prove that she is educated. She has absorbed what she has read so completely that other writers and thinkers become part of the way she understands the world. Her quotations feel woven into the fabric of the essay rather than stitched awkwardly on top of it.
That distinction mattered enormously to me. This is intelligent writing without being inaccessible writing. Grande’s intellect is in her connections, her self-awareness, her compassion, and her ability to take one seemingly small experience and uncover layers most people would never stop long enough to see.
Her self-awareness may have been the quality I admired most.
She examines internalized racism, her relationship with Spanish and Mexican identity, assimilation, motherhood, anger, intergenerational trauma, marriage, sexual violence, immigration, disability, aging, and her own failures without positioning herself above anyone else. She manages to be deeply analytical without becoming judgmental.
Her chapter on racism was particularly powerful. She explores how prejudice does not simply operate externally but can infiltrate how people understand beauty, language, marriage, children, culture, and even themselves. She also forced me to think more deeply about immigration and how easily Americans discuss the border while ignoring the violence, poverty, displacement, and fear that may have created the journey in the first place.
Her discussion of DARVO and sexual violence also stayed with me. We have built systems in which victims are frequently scrutinized while perpetrators receive explanation, context, and grace. Grande understands how profoundly violating it is to have your own story inverted.
But perhaps the chapters I related to most were about writing itself.
Grande understands the cost of putting trauma onto a page. She writes about hurting family members, exposing people she loves, reliving memories, and asking whether telling the truth is worth what it may cost the writer. Those questions have occupied me for years.
I once believed trauma had to become something positive. That we were supposed to find gratitude, resilience, or meaning in it. I no longer believe that.
Bad things do not necessarily make us stronger. Sometimes they simply hurt us. The strength was already ours. Trauma merely forced us to reach for parts of ourselves we may not have known existed.
And even that strength is not limitless.
Grande seems to understand this too. Human beings have limits. Sometimes our wings simply cannot carry us as far as we desperately want them to.
That is not failure.
Near the end, Grande writes beautifully about menopause, the changing female body, and a different kind of strength. I happened to read those pages in the middle of yet another hot flash, which felt almost comically well timed, and they brought tears to my eyes. She refuses to treat aging as disappearance. Instead, she explores transformation, loss, wisdom, clarity, and what she calls a gentler strength.
Gentler strength.
Maybe that is what stayed with me most.
Not forced gratitude.
Not pretending suffering was secretly a gift.
Not turning pain into an inspirational slogan.
Just continuing to live, think, question, notice, love, learn, and move.
This was not my usual kind of book.
It was one of the most intellectually rewarding books I have read this year.
And by the end, I felt the rarest thing a reader can feel toward an author:
I would genuinely love to sit down and talk with Reyna Grande.
Five stars.
“The reality is, sometimes our wings fail to carry us across the vast distances we yearn to go.”
I did not expect to relate to Migrant Hearts as deeply as I did.
I chose this book partly because I wanted to read a Hispanic author during Hispanic Heritage Month, and I expected to learn more about immigration, racism, assimilation, and Mexican American identity. I often make a point to read books about racism and patriarchy because I think it is important to keep examining the assumptions we absorb from the world around us. Migrant Hearts gave me another opportunity to do that with honesty and compassion.
Each time I read deeply about experiences outside my own, I feel my understanding widen. Not because I believe I begin from a place of malice, but because I know there are always things I have not lived, perspectives I have not considered, and pieces of history I do not yet know.
Grande never made me feel scolded into understanding. That was part of what I admired so much about her writing. She invites the reader to look more closely, to question, to notice, and to grow without turning curiosity into shame.
But Migrant Hearts became far more personal than that.
I related to Grande as a writer, as a mother, as a woman moving through trauma, as someone questioning what suffering means, if it has to mean anything at all, and as a woman confronting a changing body and menopause.
What impressed me most, though, was Grande’s extraordinary command of metaphor.
“Extraordinary” almost feels too small. Her metaphors are not decorations placed on top of her writing. They are the architecture underneath it. She can begin with eyesight, a peach tree, a fairy tale, a border, a body, or a single human encounter and slowly widen it until she is writing about identity, culture, aging, motherhood, trauma, immigration, invisibility, belonging, or the way we see one another.
She notices meaning where most of us would simply keep walking.
And her use of quotations is phenomenal. Grande is clearly exceptionally well read, but her intelligence never feels performative. She does not throw obscure references onto the page to prove that she is educated. She has absorbed what she has read so completely that other writers and thinkers become part of the way she understands the world. Her quotations feel woven into the fabric of the essay rather than stitched awkwardly on top of it.
That distinction mattered enormously to me. This is intelligent writing without being inaccessible writing. Grande’s intellect is in her connections, her self-awareness, her compassion, and her ability to take one seemingly small experience and uncover layers most people would never stop long enough to see.
Her self-awareness may have been the quality I admired most.
She examines internalized racism, her relationship with Spanish and Mexican identity, assimilation, motherhood, anger, intergenerational trauma, marriage, sexual violence, immigration, disability, aging, and her own failures without positioning herself above anyone else. She manages to be deeply analytical without becoming judgmental.
Her chapter on racism was particularly powerful. She explores how prejudice does not simply operate externally but can infiltrate how people understand beauty, language, marriage, children, culture, and even themselves. She also forced me to think more deeply about immigration and how easily Americans discuss the border while ignoring the violence, poverty, displacement, and fear that may have created the journey in the first place.
Her discussion of DARVO and sexual violence also stayed with me. We have built systems in which victims are frequently scrutinized while perpetrators receive explanation, context, and grace. Grande understands how profoundly violating it is to have your own story inverted.
But perhaps the chapters I related to most were about writing itself.
Grande understands the cost of putting trauma onto a page. She writes about hurting family members, exposing people she loves, reliving memories, and asking whether telling the truth is worth what it may cost the writer. Those questions have occupied me for years.
I once believed trauma had to become something positive. That we were supposed to find gratitude, resilience, or meaning in it. I no longer believe that.
Bad things do not necessarily make us stronger. Sometimes they simply hurt us. The strength was already ours. Trauma merely forced us to reach for parts of ourselves we may not have known existed.
And even that strength is not limitless.
Grande seems to understand this too. Human beings have limits. Sometimes our wings simply cannot carry us as far as we desperately want them to.
That is not failure.
Near the end, Grande writes beautifully about menopause, the changing female body, and a different kind of strength. I happened to read those pages in the middle of yet another hot flash, which felt almost comically well timed, and they brought tears to my eyes. She refuses to treat aging as disappearance. Instead, she explores transformation, loss, wisdom, clarity, and what she calls a gentler strength.
Gentler strength.
Maybe that is what stayed with me most.
Not forced gratitude.
Not pretending suffering was secretly a gift.
Not turning pain into an inspirational slogan.
Just continuing to live, think, question, notice, love, learn, and move.
This was not my usual kind of book.
It was one of the most intellectually rewarding books I have read this year.
And by the end, I felt the rarest thing a reader can feel toward an author:
I would genuinely love to sit down and talk with Reyna Grande.
Five stars.
June 24, 2026
I haven’t read nonfiction in years, but I got a copy of this book from Primer Sueño Press, and the title really called me. As a migrant myself (albeit through a much easier path than the author’s), I could really relate to most of the essays, and it pulled at my heart strings page after page. I’m not one to annotate books, but this one kept me going back for my highlighter. I loved it. I can’t wait to tell my Colombian/US daughter that she is not half of anything, but twice of everything 🥹
October 10, 2026
For me, a five star rating can mean a book, film, or other creation made a strong impact. I heard author Reyna Grande speak in person after reading many of her books. This was earlier in 2026, in time and place where U.S. citizens can lose their freedom --and even their lives--without due process, merely because of racial profiling assumptions.
Messages from the human heart, rather than slick superficial smooth-to-swallow "perfection" are what counts to me. Computers can be used to cut and paste pre-existing writing into something technically new. But if compared to actually looking at something thru human eyes & minds, typical AI generated result really says nothing (despite often taking a lot of space to do so).
What some might consider as imperfections, to me may be proof of reality. I've also seen in person, close enough to touch (tho didn't) painting by Frida Kahlo done in deliberately (so-called) primitive style depicting her wedding to Diego Rivera. Those familiar with her work will know how visceral & memorable Kahlo's art can be. This description can also be applied to Reyna Grande's writing, both fiction & biographical.
It's disheartening so many influencers (need I say "young", as don't they automatically make up the bulk of that profession?) typically have so little experience & knowledge--probably part of reason for their product being so ephemeral, having little of lasting interest & importance to say. Yet such are followed by hundreds & thousands who don't know what they are missing by avoiding anything TL so DF. *(Just in case anyone who found this doesn't know, abbreviation for Too Long; Didn't Finish).
Nobody may read this (a favorite line by Emily Dickenson: "I'm Nobody.... are you Nobody too?"). But writing thoughts down is a way to explore one's own feeling, perceptions, reactions.
Reading some of my comments on other books (also those on GR friend's account) will I hope open eyes to other things that have gotten relatively little publicity--at least recently--but which I feel are rewarding to seek out.
I've been thinking about 1998 film by David Ryker, LA CIUDAD (The City) which I own on DVD. Some who can't be bothered to try anything in an unfamiliar style, topic or theme (and therefore out of their comfort zone) might dismiss as not worth the effort. But please see at least the praise by respected critics cited in brief trailer clip on IMDb website.
FIrst time I saw film LA CIUDAD was in Los Angeles theater with live audience that gave the film a spontaneous standing ovation--only time I've witnessed this happen. My mother recalled seeing first run movie SHOW BOAT (1951), in downtown LA "movie palace" on Broadway, for which song "Ol' Man River" also earned an unplanned audience ovation.
Segment in film titled "Bricks" reminds me of chapter in book by Pulitzer Prize winning reporter David Cay Johnston in which NYC "real estate impresario" claims he didn't know that he'd hired 100's of undocumented Polish men to work in dangerous conditions demolishing a building, an unsuitable site where they also lived.
Might get around to posting review for another book -- in some ways very different, being about transition from classic silent film to talkies -- some of previously written remarks on those often unseen, "invisible", forgotten, ignored, yet living in same place (likened to how Wizarding World is overlooked by Muggles).
That piece links to a Hollywood premiere by actor/director/producer whose entry on Wikipedia says was "recognized by Variety in 2014 as the #1 most influential Latin American male in the world"; also honored at Hispanic Heritage month event where he spoken with President Biden the month before most recent Presidential election.
If intrigued by my off-the-beaten-path, sometimes quirky thematic connections, please "friend" me!
Messages from the human heart, rather than slick superficial smooth-to-swallow "perfection" are what counts to me. Computers can be used to cut and paste pre-existing writing into something technically new. But if compared to actually looking at something thru human eyes & minds, typical AI generated result really says nothing (despite often taking a lot of space to do so).
What some might consider as imperfections, to me may be proof of reality. I've also seen in person, close enough to touch (tho didn't) painting by Frida Kahlo done in deliberately (so-called) primitive style depicting her wedding to Diego Rivera. Those familiar with her work will know how visceral & memorable Kahlo's art can be. This description can also be applied to Reyna Grande's writing, both fiction & biographical.
It's disheartening so many influencers (need I say "young", as don't they automatically make up the bulk of that profession?) typically have so little experience & knowledge--probably part of reason for their product being so ephemeral, having little of lasting interest & importance to say. Yet such are followed by hundreds & thousands who don't know what they are missing by avoiding anything TL so DF. *(Just in case anyone who found this doesn't know, abbreviation for Too Long; Didn't Finish).
Nobody may read this (a favorite line by Emily Dickenson: "I'm Nobody.... are you Nobody too?"). But writing thoughts down is a way to explore one's own feeling, perceptions, reactions.
Reading some of my comments on other books (also those on GR friend's account) will I hope open eyes to other things that have gotten relatively little publicity--at least recently--but which I feel are rewarding to seek out.
I've been thinking about 1998 film by David Ryker, LA CIUDAD (The City) which I own on DVD. Some who can't be bothered to try anything in an unfamiliar style, topic or theme (and therefore out of their comfort zone) might dismiss as not worth the effort. But please see at least the praise by respected critics cited in brief trailer clip on IMDb website.
FIrst time I saw film LA CIUDAD was in Los Angeles theater with live audience that gave the film a spontaneous standing ovation--only time I've witnessed this happen. My mother recalled seeing first run movie SHOW BOAT (1951), in downtown LA "movie palace" on Broadway, for which song "Ol' Man River" also earned an unplanned audience ovation.
Segment in film titled "Bricks" reminds me of chapter in book by Pulitzer Prize winning reporter David Cay Johnston in which NYC "real estate impresario" claims he didn't know that he'd hired 100's of undocumented Polish men to work in dangerous conditions demolishing a building, an unsuitable site where they also lived.
Might get around to posting review for another book -- in some ways very different, being about transition from classic silent film to talkies -- some of previously written remarks on those often unseen, "invisible", forgotten, ignored, yet living in same place (likened to how Wizarding World is overlooked by Muggles).
That piece links to a Hollywood premiere by actor/director/producer whose entry on Wikipedia says was "recognized by Variety in 2014 as the #1 most influential Latin American male in the world"; also honored at Hispanic Heritage month event where he spoken with President Biden the month before most recent Presidential election.
If intrigued by my off-the-beaten-path, sometimes quirky thematic connections, please "friend" me!
June 7, 2026
Esteemed author Reyna Grande offers readers a convincing collocation of life experiences tethered to pains and triumphs. In MIGRANT HEART, she delves deeply into her personal recollections to reveal plain truths in a panoramic perspective. Noted for highly emotive memoirs of her migrations from Mexico to the US (THE DISTANCE BETWEEN US, A DREAM CALLED HOME), she now arrays the futures those books implied.
One especially illustrative chapter, “A Flight to Remember,” details the hours Grande spent on a plane talking with a young Guatemalan man who was newly released from detention after trying to cross the US border into Texas. Having almost no possessions, he was hoping to reunite with his brother in Sacramento and seek legal asylum. She gave him informed advice, and he later texted her a brief, heart-rending message: “Que dios la bendiga,” which translates to “May God bless you.”
Grande fixes her gaze upon the fears and potential victories of immigrants, nearly all of whom are stricken with extreme poverty, as they must bear the physical deficits of harsh travel and the treatment they will receive from the US Border Patrol. She vividly describes her complex medical problems, including keratoconus, a retinal disorder for which there is no expedient remedy, leaving her to fear the darkness. Grande emotively compares her suffering to the traumas of asylum seekers lost in a miasma of constantly shifting regulations. She shares tales of her birth family, her starkly deprived childhood, and her remarkable ability to conquer perhaps the toughest boundary: language.
Grande’s academic ambitions and sharp intelligence led to “subtractive bilingualism” --- the loss of one’s native tongue in the struggle to gain the ability to speak and write in one’s new, non-native homeland. And she cherishes incidents, experienced with her children, that are focused on such unusual enjoyments as observing local slugs and bugs and one sweet butterfly. Extensive travel in Europe and the deserts of the Southwest US have inspired her “to keep bearing witness, to keep telling these stories.”
Reyna Grande’s memories, writings, talks and sage observations have garnered her many awards and inclusion in a plethora of educational programs. She has the admirable ability to enhearten her audience through her expertise as a wordsmith and acting as an exemplar to others by sharing her personal saga. Her viewpoints of a woman growing older and enjoying the positive signs of progress among her children and grandchildren will give hope and determination to those who are in the process of overcoming the trials and traumas of oppression, aiding them in discovering life’s higher purpose.
Reviewed by Barbara Bamberger Scott
One especially illustrative chapter, “A Flight to Remember,” details the hours Grande spent on a plane talking with a young Guatemalan man who was newly released from detention after trying to cross the US border into Texas. Having almost no possessions, he was hoping to reunite with his brother in Sacramento and seek legal asylum. She gave him informed advice, and he later texted her a brief, heart-rending message: “Que dios la bendiga,” which translates to “May God bless you.”
Grande fixes her gaze upon the fears and potential victories of immigrants, nearly all of whom are stricken with extreme poverty, as they must bear the physical deficits of harsh travel and the treatment they will receive from the US Border Patrol. She vividly describes her complex medical problems, including keratoconus, a retinal disorder for which there is no expedient remedy, leaving her to fear the darkness. Grande emotively compares her suffering to the traumas of asylum seekers lost in a miasma of constantly shifting regulations. She shares tales of her birth family, her starkly deprived childhood, and her remarkable ability to conquer perhaps the toughest boundary: language.
Grande’s academic ambitions and sharp intelligence led to “subtractive bilingualism” --- the loss of one’s native tongue in the struggle to gain the ability to speak and write in one’s new, non-native homeland. And she cherishes incidents, experienced with her children, that are focused on such unusual enjoyments as observing local slugs and bugs and one sweet butterfly. Extensive travel in Europe and the deserts of the Southwest US have inspired her “to keep bearing witness, to keep telling these stories.”
Reyna Grande’s memories, writings, talks and sage observations have garnered her many awards and inclusion in a plethora of educational programs. She has the admirable ability to enhearten her audience through her expertise as a wordsmith and acting as an exemplar to others by sharing her personal saga. Her viewpoints of a woman growing older and enjoying the positive signs of progress among her children and grandchildren will give hope and determination to those who are in the process of overcoming the trials and traumas of oppression, aiding them in discovering life’s higher purpose.
Reviewed by Barbara Bamberger Scott
May 28, 2026
Title: Migrant Heart: Essays About Things I Can’t Forget
Author: Reyna Grande
Age Group: Adult
Genre: Essays/Memoir
Star Rating: 5 Out of 5 Stars
I received an advanced reader copy of this book through the publisher, Atria Books, and Netgalley, my thanks to both!
I love essays and memoirs, especially ones that dig deep. Nonfiction can be picky for me, but I really loved Migrant Heart! Reyna Grande is a woman with deep trauma and psychological scars. A writer and novelist, she opens up about her family history, including how she crossed the border illegally as a child. This book was so raw and brave to me: I was spellbound by this deep, painful yet lovely book. I couldn’t stop reading, and when I wasn’t reading, it was haunting my thoughts. In it, Grande questions being a child of both America and Mexico, picking apart the knots of her childhood and upbringing, her present, and her future, as well as the future of her young children. I was totally captivated, and this book was nothing less than a bare, naked lens into what it is like to be a child of two worlds, too much and too little of both yet not enough. I think everyone needs to read these essays, because they would have much more empathy towards people crossing the border into America.
Grande was so naked and raw in these essays, truly exposing her wounds and scars. I loved her vulnerability and the way she approached all of these topics with unflinching honesty. Her voice is warm in some places, yet bleak and sad in others. I aspire to be an author like Grande, lyrical and warm but honest and frank as well. I just finished this book a few days prior, and I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. Migrant Heart is one of my favorite books of 2026, and I will be actively looking for more of Reyna’s work. This memoir seemed to take my heart out of my chest and squeeze, I’m not ashamed to say I was crying at certain intervals of the book. The sheer bravery of this book bowled me over, and I will never forget it. The bottom line: Honest, painful, and deep, I loved Migrant Heart!
https://literatureobsessed.blogspot.c...
Author: Reyna Grande
Age Group: Adult
Genre: Essays/Memoir
Star Rating: 5 Out of 5 Stars
I received an advanced reader copy of this book through the publisher, Atria Books, and Netgalley, my thanks to both!
I love essays and memoirs, especially ones that dig deep. Nonfiction can be picky for me, but I really loved Migrant Heart! Reyna Grande is a woman with deep trauma and psychological scars. A writer and novelist, she opens up about her family history, including how she crossed the border illegally as a child. This book was so raw and brave to me: I was spellbound by this deep, painful yet lovely book. I couldn’t stop reading, and when I wasn’t reading, it was haunting my thoughts. In it, Grande questions being a child of both America and Mexico, picking apart the knots of her childhood and upbringing, her present, and her future, as well as the future of her young children. I was totally captivated, and this book was nothing less than a bare, naked lens into what it is like to be a child of two worlds, too much and too little of both yet not enough. I think everyone needs to read these essays, because they would have much more empathy towards people crossing the border into America.
Grande was so naked and raw in these essays, truly exposing her wounds and scars. I loved her vulnerability and the way she approached all of these topics with unflinching honesty. Her voice is warm in some places, yet bleak and sad in others. I aspire to be an author like Grande, lyrical and warm but honest and frank as well. I just finished this book a few days prior, and I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. Migrant Heart is one of my favorite books of 2026, and I will be actively looking for more of Reyna’s work. This memoir seemed to take my heart out of my chest and squeeze, I’m not ashamed to say I was crying at certain intervals of the book. The sheer bravery of this book bowled me over, and I will never forget it. The bottom line: Honest, painful, and deep, I loved Migrant Heart!
https://literatureobsessed.blogspot.c...
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