Margarita is a lethal mixed martial artist on top of the world!


 
      I am writing in an effort to document my crazy life.  I
      would love to write more and make my life and successes
      into a book and movie, as has been suggested by my
      friends so we'll see.  This is a summary of my
      wonderful life so hope you enjoy it. I have lived two
      distinctly and different lives up to this point, one as
      a gang banger up until age 18 or so and the other as a
      human being!  This blurb is written on 2/1/08
 
I am a 30 year-old former gang member and have an 8 year-old
son. I am first generation American with both of my parents
being born in Mexico and coming here when I was three.  I was
pregnant three times before I graduated High School in Los
Angeles with the first pregnancy when I was 14 with all of
them ending in abortion or miscarriage. As a gang member I
sold drugs, beat-up a lot of people in the street, smoked
cigarettes, did drugs, drank and carried a knife with me
everyday of my life since I was 12.  I had gang fights with
the women of other gangs and saw things that I wish I never
have.I witnessed some horrible things I can never forget and
still have nightmares over. I was involved in orgies, gang
raped twice by members of my own gang and street fought my
way to become one of girlfriends of one of the gang leaders. 
Many times I had to fistfight other women for that privilege
and the analogy I could make now it was like cockfights or
dog fights.  Two women would face off in street clothes with
nothing besides their own fists and whatever they could pick
up off the gutter and go at it until one or the other was
unconscious or unable to continue or the cops would show up
which they rarely did. The loser was gang raped and beaten
further by the men. It was terrible and gruesome.  These
fights were horrific and brutal and far beyond anything I
could explain.  It was an ugly and dangerous life that was
all about survival. I beat some women way past the point that
I wanted to, past the point that I needed to simply win, but
had to continue their beating B/c that is what the men
wanted.  One time I lost, I was 15 or so and was beaten 1/2
to death by a woman of 25 and spent 12 days in a hospital
being questioned by the police.  I never would tell them the
truth or gave her name as that would have been a death
sentence for sure.  I was arrested  8x before I was 16
including 5 for assault and 3 for dealing drugs. My high
school was a pig sty with the furthest thing going on there
was learning.  We beat-up and intimidated the few female
teachers that were dumb enough to come to that school and the
boys did the same of the male teachers.  I personally beat
one teacher so bad, a young male teacher that he pissed in
his pants.  Back then that was another "badge" for me but
looking back I feel horrified that I did that to another
human being.  Of the many tattoos I have I have one for that
beat down.  On my last arrest a wonderful police officer
named Carlos took me under his wing and with my mother's
permission had me moved to a half way house and cleaned me up
both physically and emotionally. Carlos became my father for
all intent and purposes. He enrolled me in a boxing class
since he knew of my natural fighting talent and pent up
aggressions. The first day they put these gloves on me, a
mouthpiece and headgear and put me in the ring with the best
fighter in the club.  This white woman was 5 inches bigger
and I am sure weighed more than 20 lbs than I did.  She was
jabbing me around the ring and talking smack as she did.  I
had no idea how to fight like that.  At the end of the first
round I was bleeding from my nose and feeling her body
punches but I told Carlos I was going to fuck her up now. 
When the bell rang I put both my hands over my head and dared
her to hit me as much as she wants, this threw Ms. white girl
with her formal training off her game and as she started
landing her jabs I saw an opening and clocked her with an
overhand right that knocked her shit out cold! She flew her
ass to the ground unconscious, totally unconscious and they
had to call in an ambulance to take her out of there.  I
stood there saying ambulance? Are you crazy?  Throw some
water on her and give her a beer and let's fight some more. 
Well, this just highlighted my natural talent and my piernas
de madera ( hands of stone as they called me then) and I
still fight there as of this day years later.  The woman I
beat I fought four more times and of course the result was
always the same as my training took hold I was able to
prolong her beatings with jabs and body attacks that showed I
am a trained fighter now VS a wild animal from the street. 
My last fight with her where I broke one of her ribs made her
quit (finally) the gym for good. She did her best to make
sure that everyone hated me but I couldn't care less. 
Anyway,  I stand just 5'4 and weigh 126 lbs but I am fearless
and have beaten MUCH bigger women and a lot of the white boys
who hit on me. I have natural muscles and enjoyed that
outlet. My measurements are 34C-26-34 and enjoyed using my
body as a pawn and a weapon.  What saved my life was
enrolling in a Community College with Carlos' help and
sponsorship.  There I joined the gymnastic and girls
wrestling team.  The gymnastic team allowed me into a whole
new world.  I became friends with all of these white women
and enjoyed sane conversation although I often felt out of
place. I got my body into AMAZING shape and developed a
strength that has saved my ass and helped develop me into the
mixed martial artist I am today. The muscles I developed
shocked me as they popped out everywhere and not only did all
of these white boys flock around me the power it gave me
physically was outrageous.  I did NOT lose one wrestling
match during those two years and progressed to a 4 year
college and now am proud to say I am a licensed social worker
here in San Diego and live with my B/f and son.  Between the
boxing class, gymnastics and wrestling team plus no drugs or
cigarettes ( I still drink alcohol socially)  I never thought
I could be so strong, feel so good or look this way. Muscles
was nothing I ever wanted or needed as I never had a problem
attracting boys.But now have plenty of muscles that make a
statement.   There is NO doubt that as my body changed I
became a magnet and loved the fact that this poor Mexican
girl was being chased by all of these white boys. For a long
time I had my pick and experimented with many.  Basically,
they were lousy boring lovers who were more interested in my
body, my background and history than me per se.  It did not
make a difference as I was just interested in screwing some
white boys for the experience. If nothing else they treated
me like a lady and I was certainly not used to that.
 
Carlos- a wonderful man who saved my life. PERIOD!!! After 6
months of community college we were in his car and I thought,
based on my sick life and the way I was brought up, that I
would give him oral sex as a thank you for helping me. I will
add that I was ALWAYS a street fighter and that the gymnastic
training had made me much stronger than I ever was.  Back to
the story. So I was in his car and I was verbally thanking
him and started to play with his cock and started to go down
on him which is what I used to do all the time on my former
life when he grabbed me by the hair and yanked me up and
started to say stop when based on reflex only, I swear, I
started punching him for grabbing my hair.  I do not know how
many times I hit him but I suddenly noticed he was
unconscious. I used both fists and in a very confined space I
beat the shit out of him, simple as that. I remember very
little of actually hitting him.  Understand that Mexican men
are very macho and absorbing such a beating from a woman is
really very bad for their psyche. In private, however,  he
realized my natural and trained ability when it comes to
fighting and to be 100% honest the gymnastic team did more to
build up my strength not to mention change my body and add on
more muscle than I ever thought possible all of which he
turned me on to.  I never wanted to hurt him physically or
spiritually but I also know and am fully aware of who I am
deep inside. Not happy about it but realize it.   I was
raised a gang banger and may always be one.  I react to
things with violence and try to keep that under wraps as much
as possible in my new and improved life.  But when faced with
immediate danger like I thought I was with him my reaction is
to strike back.  I know I lost it with him and I was unaware
I was hitting him so much and so hard but it happened and is
a fact of life so I have to face it, WE had to face it.  He
knew he could not compete with me physically at that point.
 In all my street fights I knocked out only 3 girls.  Here I
was, a gang banger with an attitude and a temper, and I
knocked out cold the only man who ever tried to save or help
me. In fact the only human being who really ever helped me
with no other motive than that.  His head was slumped over
and he was bleeding out of his mouth totally unconscious.  I
was scared and thankfully he finally opened his eyes and
asked what the fuck happened. At that point I was straddling
his body and my fist was still clinched to strike again. I
was speechless at first and he asked if we had an accident or
something.  I admitted that I knocked him out and lets just
say he freaked out. I sat there feeling stronger than he,
feeling like I could do it again to this seasoned police
officer and it was a good feeling for a while.  Yet at the
same I felt badly yet sometimes was happy that I had this
strength in my fists.  He yelled at me an both languages but
I saw he was embarrassed.  He slapped me several times and I
took the first few and they were hard and then I cocked my
fist back and warned him if he hit me again I would fucking
kill him and he knew I was serious and he sat back in silence
a VERY long silence. This was a very tough scene for both of
us.  He knew I just beat him like a bitch, I knew I could do
it again and almost wanted to on some levels, yet I also knew
how terrible he was going to feel about the beating and I
knew he was the ONLY person I ever truly trusted and I just
blew that. To make a long story short our relationship
changed a lot but he hung in there with me even though it was
clear between the boxing class, where I was hurting  a lot of
people, the gymnastics and personal growth life was FINALLY
getting good and his job was over in that he saved a
life. Once after a particular match that I won I came out of
the ring and he was toweling me off and said in Spanish "
margarita you are now lethal in more ways than you know"
and at the time I did not understand what he meant.   Once I
enrolled in a real 4 year college we agreed to part ways as
he took me as far as possible.  He will live in my heart
forever!!!! Forever.
 
I am now a full-time licensed social worker with a great job
and professional mixed martial artist here in beautiful San
Diego.  My life is my b/f, son and my fighting.  I am very
good at all of them.  My professional record is 14-2 with 8
knockouts. My two losses were decisions but everyone but the
one sided judges knew I won with neither girl willing to
fight me again.   I am usually much stronger than my
opponents, and am known for my non-stop aggression.  I am
proud of my body and my accomplishments to date. Yes, I have
fought men in these "private" fights so I can earn some extra
money and am 11-4 in those over the past 3 years and have
knocked out 5 of them. Particularly proud of three of those
knockouts.  I have had 2 embarrassing street fights since I
have been here I am sad to say. One on the soccer field where
I had to beatup a loud mouth father who made some stupid
comments about Mexican women of which I was the only one
there as usual.  I had my boy wait in the car and took this
man  into the woods and beat the shit out of him until he was
crying like the immature loud mouth spoiled boy he was and
the second was on a tennis court where I was forced to shutup
a woman who was very jealous that her husband was staring
until his eyes hurt. Also, I wasn't even there to play tennis
since I don;t play that game!  She was a "kickboxer" and
"warned" me not to "prance around like a tramp" with my body
but believe me she might have taken some kickboxing classes
but she was no fighter since a few jabs and a hook to her
stomach left her in tears gasping for air and whispering STOP
PLEASE stop as I stood over her.  Not good times as I want to
leave that life BEHIND me. If I never use my abilities and
training in the street again that'll be fine with me.  My b/f
is a fighter to and a white boy.  Who would ever thought in a
million years that I would have a house ( my own house with a
yard and a garage and furniture and it's clean and I HAVE MY
OWN MAID!!!) , a son, a white boyfriend, a college degree so
many white girlfriends who are envious of MY body and my
life.  I love life and love fighting as it keeps me calm.
Adios Margarita

If you want you can write back to meximarg@aol.com