Breathe
By Ivonne López
I met Ivonne one night in Nezahualcóyotl. Her boyfriend had asked for the trip, and from the first message I knew something wasn't right. Every so often, he would send me texts hurrying me: "Are you going to get there yet? You're taking too long." When I finally arrived, Ivonne (my namesake, how curious 😂) got in the car. We were driving to a bar in Agricola Oriental and the guy kept calling her. "Are you coming already?" he insisted. You could tell how much control he was trying to exert. There was traffic, nothing else to do.
Arriving at the bar, I told Ivonne that the trip was in cash. She, a little embarrassed, asked me for a moment while she asked her boyfriend for the money. What happened next was something I won't forget. He came over, opened my front door and, in a heavy tone, told me that his card had already been charged. I politely explained that this was not the case and that he should pay for it. "Look, I do this for a living too, so don't get bitchy," he replied, slamming my car door.
At that moment, Ivonne came to my defense. She confronted him, telling him, "Hey, don't be rude to the lady, please pay for the ride." However, he pushed her and knocked her to the ground. I got down right away to help her, and she asked me to take her home. She had no money with her, but I told her not to worry, that I was taking her. Thus began our friendship, one in which, in a way, we have both rescued each other.
My story in Uber was also a rescue for me. Almost ten years ago I got divorced, and it affected my job, my health, my stability... I decided to take some time to sort out my life. Two months later, I started looking for a job again, but OMG! 😲 I found something I didn't expect: at my 45 years old, most companies don't accept you anymore. They would come out with excuses like I was "overqualified" for the position. After several refusals and discouragements, I heard about Uber and thought,"Why not try while I find something else?"
I remember well my first day in Uber. It was an uncomfortable environment, full of men who looked down on the few women present, as if to say, "What are these doing here? This is not for women." But I was determined. I had to do something for me, for my son and for my mom.
This job became my main source of income. It allowed me to be my own boss, with the flexibility to choose a schedule that suits my needs. I work at night, so I can take care of my mother, who has an illness. And although it is difficult at times, I feel that this job has given me much more than money; it has given me stories and people I would never have met. If the conditions under which I work change, I simply couldn't do it anymore.
Over the years, I have had many experiences, some bitter, some wonderful. And now that they want to regulate the platforms so that we have social security, I am afraid of losing this flexibility. For me, taking care of my mother is a priority, and hiring someone to do it for me is very expensive. This labor reform, instead of helping me, seems like it could complicate my situation even more.
I wonder how many people, like Ivonne and I, have found in this work a second chance. Yes, there are challenges, but there is also freedom, unexpected friendships and, above all, the possibility of rescuing others... And of rescuing ourselves.
The opinions expressed are the responsibility of the authors and are absolutely independent of the position and editorial line of the company. Opinion 51.
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