The Sweet Life: Find Passion, Embrace Fear, and Create Success on Your Own Terms - Hardcover

Ruiz, Dulce Candy

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 1592409504 ISBN 13: 9781592409501

Publisher: Avery, 2015

Synopsis

The YouTube star and beauty guru shares her hard-won lessons on success, style, and finding the sweetness in all aspects of your life.

Since posting her first makeup tutorial in 2008, Dulce Candy has become one of the top beauty stars on YouTube, boasting more than 2 million subscribers and garnering hundreds of millions of views of her bright and energetic videos.
 
But before she became a style icon and a role model to millions of young women, Dulce struggled to make her way in the world. Having emigrated with her family from Mexico to the United States when she was six years old, Dulce battled depression and low self-esteem as a teenager and eventually enlisted in the army in an attempt to turn her life around. It was here, on the battlefields of Iraq, that she finally uncovered and embraced her true passion—fashion and beauty—and gained the confidence to move on from her past, follow her dream, and launch what would become her wildly successful brand. 
 
The Sweet Life chronicles Dulce Candy’s inspiring story, showing that anyone can be successful no matter their background and sharing the hard-won lessons that helped transform her from a shy, self-doubting teenager into a confident business woman and beauty expert. According to Dulce, you can’t live the sweet life until you accept who you are—flaws and all—and take chances—knowing that failure is just a part of learning and fear is a sign that you’re trying something new and exciting.
 
Drawing on anecdotes from her own life and career, Dulce offers advice on building a personal brand (“Know what makes you different”), building confidence (“Fake it till you make it”) and balancing the personal and the professional (“Don’t settle when you settle down”). She also emphasizes the importance of both inner and outer beauty, encouraging women to love themselves, ignore the critics, and flaunt their own original style.
 
Part memoir, part manifesto, The Sweet Life is a fun, inspirational guide for any woman who wants to find success and happiness without compromising who she is.

About this title

About the Author

Dulce Candy Ruiz is the creator of the beauty and fashion channel Dulce Candy on YouTube and runs the popular lifestyle blog DulceCandy.com. She has been featured in many publications, including Seventeen, Allure, and Glamour, and on television shows such as Good Morning America, the Rachael Ray Show, and Lifetime’s Project Runway. In 2013, Latina magazine named her one of their Latinas of the Year. She lives in California with her husband and son.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Hi, guys! I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am to share this book with all of you. Whether you’ve stuck by me from day one—when I was still in the military, posting shaky YouTube videos out of my tiny bedroom—or recently became a part of my online community or simply picked up this book because you were intrigued by the cover (it’s pretty cute, huh?), I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for embarking on this journey with me.

“Dulce Candy”—the name my very imaginative parents gave me—translates to “sweet candy” in Spanish. Sure, it gets a few giggles now and again, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. I consider my name a constant reminder to never ever lose sight of the sweet things in my life. One of the absolute sweetest is the support of the viewers who keep coming back to my YouTube channel day after day. It’s all the proof I need that my whirlwind of a life has taken me exactly where I need to be.

Here’s what’s weird: Though I’ve loved everything about makeup—the dizzying spectrum of colors, the pretty packages, that instantly recognizable scent—long before YouTube was invented, I never actually planned on becoming a vlogger, or a beauty guru for that matter. In fact, for a long time I didn’t think I’d become much of anything. Just like so many of us, I went through some tough times, the toughest of which were in high school. As you’ll soon find out, joining the military after graduating was a transformative experience. It set me on a path that would eventually shape me into the woman I am today. A woman who knows her strengths yet learns from her weaknesses. A woman who is her own boss yet still understands the power of teamwork. A woman who came out on top despite the odds.

My job has given me opportunities to work with incredible brands like L’Oréal, CoverGirl, and Virgin America. My work has been recognized by major publications (thanks, Women’s Wear Daily and People StyleWatch!) and I was even chosen as one of Latina magazine’s “Latinas of the Year” in 2013. I still have to pinch myself sometimes to make sure it’s all real.

But let’s get something straight: The Sweet Life is a book about you. Sure, my name may be on it, and there’s lots of personal stuff about me and the lessons I’ve learned over the course of my life within its pages, but I wrote this book to help you find happiness and success. My goal is not only to give you real-life tools for tackling the roadblocks you’re bound to encounter on your journey but also to help you see that the strength you need to get through them in one piece has been inside you all along. And I’m here to help you tap into it.

So how do I plan on doing this? Well, by being totally, unabashedly honest about the mistakes that taught me valuable lessons, the failures that led to unforeseen opportunities, and, of course, the wins (both big and small) that gave me the motivation to keep at it. With each chapter we’ll dive into some really juicy stuff, like the importance of knowing your self-worth, the magic that comes with discovering your passion, and the value in embracing fear. I’ll also throw out suggestions for steps you can start taking toward success pretty much right away. Let’s get started!

Chapter 1

In the past few years, I have achieved success far beyond what I ever imagined was possible. I have a great career doing what I love most. I get to travel the world and meet the amazing people who watch my videos on YouTube. I have a beautiful house in a beautiful neighborhood that I share with my sweet husband, Jesse, and my son, Izek. I won’t lie—it’s a pretty great life. A sweet life, in fact. But that wasn’t always the case.

If you’ve watched my channel, you know a little about my past—I was born in Mexico, immigrated to the United States with my family when I was little, grew up in California, served in the military, and then launched my YouTube channel to wild success. That’s the gist of it, but it’s far from the whole story.

In reality, nothing is that simple in life—especially not in mine. I’ve been blessed with so much—an amazing, tight-knit family being the most important—but there were a lot of disappointments and failures, too, and I could have easily ended up on a very different path. Ultimately, I’m going to spend most of this book sharing my secrets for success, and I hope my story inspires you to do what you love, challenge yourself, and reach your full potential. But before we launch into that, I want to share a bit about my beginnings, so if you’re out there struggling, wondering if you’ll ever have the opportunities you hope for, or thinking about giving up completely, you’ll learn that no matter how dark things get, there is hope.

Coming to America

I was born in the summer of 1987 in Michoacán, a western state in Mexico where the majority of the population made their living in agriculture, fishing, or crafts. My father, Jaime Tejeda, was one of eight kids born to a poor family from a tiny rural town outside Michoacán. He never went to college but was able to get a respectable job as a banker, allowing him to support my mom, Maria Teresa, me, and my sisters, Cynthia Lizbeth and Ivette Paulina, in a modest yet comfortable and happy home.

One of my first memories as a kid is watching my dad leave for the office in his tailored suit, his hair combed back, with a shiny leather briefcase in tow. To me, he looked important and strong, much like the superheroes from my morning cartoons. His careful approach to dressing and grooming was something I picked up on right away. Though we weren’t rich by any means, his job was important and came with quite a bit of status, and he always made sure his immaculate appearance reflected that.

My mom would send my dad off with a peck on the cheek, then take her post in the kitchen to make her signature chilaquiles (lightly fried tortillas smothered in salsa verde) for me and my sisters. Then it was off to kindergarten for Cynthia and me while my mother took care of Ivette Paulina and managed the Tejeda household.

When Cynthia and I got home, we’d head straight to the backyard to play with our dogs and pet donkeys (yes, we had donkeys). Our mom continued her chores and took breaks to chase us around the yard as we played our favorite game, escondidas, a Mexican version of hide-and-seek. We’d spend entire afternoons in the sun running around without a care in the world, heading inside only when we heard our dad pull up to the house from work.

Dinnertime was sensory overload: the smell of homemade tortillas sizzling on the skillet, the kids shrieking over one another for a chance to spill the highlights of the day. Cynthia Lizbeth was the oldest and, naturally, also the loudest. But my dad always made sure I got a chance to fill him in on my day’s important events (“Cynthia scraped her knee! I found a bird’s nest!”). Ivette Paulina, who was just a toddler back then, would happily giggle along as the rest of us chatted.

Life was good. We weren’t rich, but we were safe and taken care of and happy. Unbeknownst to us kids, however, our parents were making plans to leave it all behind.

I know what you’re probably thinking: If life was so great for our family, why did my parents decide to leave Mexico? I have often wondered the same thing, and to be honest, I’ll never really understand why we moved. According to my parents, in addition to wanting to get away from Mexico’s not-so-great economic situation, immigrating to the US was simply the fashionable thing to do at the time. America was considered the land of opportunity, and the middle class was booming. There were endless possibilities for hardworking families looking for a higher standard of living. My parents had many family members and friends who had already made the move to the States. Their whispers of bigger and better opportunities were getting too loud to ignore. To me, America might as well have been a made-up place. I was so content with my life that the thought of living somewhere else never even crossed my mind, and my parents kept their plans to themselves during the two years they were planning the move.

When I was four years old, my dad traveled to Oxnard, California, to visit his brother Miguel, who had moved there nineteen years before and had found a job on a farm. My dad planned to visit for a month to use up his acquired time off at the bank, get a sense of the place, and then return to Mexico so he and my mom could start the lengthy immigration process. (Due to strict policies at the time, immigrating to America legally was virtually impossible without getting buried under mountains of paperwork and years of waiting.) To kill time and make a few bucks while Uncle Miguel was at work, my dad took a temporary job working on the same farm Uncle Miguel worked on.

And then something unexpected happened. He started to like working in the fields! Apparently, there had been rumors flying around his office that, due to the failing economy, the bank might go under, and my dad had realized his job was not as secure as he’d thought. Not only that, but he was making almost as much money on the farm as he had back home, with a lot more job security.

My father felt the opportunities for growth, financial stability, and success in the US were worth swapping his prestigious banking job for manual work. So rather than return home, he and my mom decided that it was best he stay in America and continue working on the farm until the rest of us could join him in California. My dad would continue to work on that farm for the next twenty-two years.

Meanwhile, my mother was left on her own to raise us in Mexico. As far as my sisters and I were concerned, it was business as usual. We were constantly reassured that we’d all be reunited very soon, though because we were so young, no one bothered to mention that the reunion would happen in America. To save money for the transition and allow my mom to take care of us full-time without having to worry about the bills, we moved in with our grandmother, our dad’s mom, Mama Irene. My mom did such a good job of maintaining our daily routine—kindergarten, playtime, plenty of hugs and laughs—that other than missing our dad, my sisters and I were hardly aware that anything was different. We were still happy, no worries at all.

Now that I’m a mother myself, I can understand what a huge gamble my mom was taking. Keeping three little girls feeling secure while you’re completely in the dark about what the future holds is no small feat. When asked about that time now, she shrugs and says that she did what she had to do for her family. I am still amazed at her strength and perseverance in the face of so much uncertainty.

As soon as my father felt stable, he arranged for us to meet him in the US. In the summer of 1994—two years after he left for America—he paid a pair of guides, or coyotes, that he found through acquaintances 3,000 pesos (about $220) to transport my mother, sisters, and me across the Mexico-US border. Though this was by no means legal, and coyotes were known to be a dangerous bunch, my parents had no choice but to trust them and hope for the best.

At six years old, you don’t really question your parents when they tell you you’re moving, but I do remember wondering why my mom was saying tearful good-byes to all her friends. Weren’t we going to come back? I was confused, but as soon as I thought about seeing my dad again, all my questions and fears disappeared.

The first stop on our journey to California was a downtrodden motel on the Mexican side of the border a few hours away from Michoacán. The room was filthy and crawling with cockroaches. My mother refused to let us sit on the beds—not that any of us would want to. Our two guides were there waiting for us. A few hours before we planned to set out, they led us to the roof of the motel so we could get a preview of what lay ahead of us. From our perch, we watched as groups of other hopeful emigrants just like us jumped a fence and quickly scattered, only to be chased down by la migra (border patrol) in their huge black SUVs.

Watching all of this happen, I realized, for the first time, that I should be scared. My heart began to pound. My mom had done such a good job keeping the details of our move to herself, my sisters and I had no idea what to expect. The guides explained that the people going ahead of us were examples of what not to do. They told us to avoid la migra’s SUVs at all costs. Instead of running, we were supposed to hide behind rocks and bushes to keep from being spotted by the bright headlights as they swept across the landscape in search of movement. As far as instructions went, they couldn’t be any clearer: Stay hidden and be quiet.

My mother, sisters, and I waited in that dingy motel room until the clock struck two a.m. Go time. Our group scurried quietly to the fence. My mom went first, followed by the guides, who carried my sisters and me so we wouldn’t fall behind. As I clung to the shoulders of my guide, I kept my eyes shut, thinking that if I couldn’t see the immigration officers, they wouldn’t be able to see me either.

I remember thinking how quickly we got to the other side. With us still tightly gripping their backs, the guides stayed low to the ground, crawling from rock to rock to avoid getting spotted by those headlights. Soon, curiosity overpowered fear, and I opened my eyes to watch the fence get smaller and smaller behind us.

We crawled for what felt like ages (in reality, the entire hike took no more than a few hours) until we came to a river called El Rio Grande (I later found out that a lot of people have drowned attempting the cross). Although I was tired and hungry, I knew complaining was out of the question. Ivette Paulina whimpered as we waded into the water, so I shot her a stern look. Thankfully, she seemed to understand my message to stay calm. Without even realizing exactly when it happened, we were out of the water and smack-dab in the middle of American suburbia. It was a different world compared to the one we’d left behind only a few hours ago. The simple stone houses and apartment buildings we knew were replaced by tract homes with lush green lawns and perfectly spaced streetlamps. We couldn’t help but stop and stare until the guides reminded us to hurry along.

As our group weaved in and out of the streets and alleyways, making sure to stay hidden, our guides ran up driveways to pull at garage door handles in hopes of coaxing one open. My gut was telling me that sneaking around like this in the dark was bad and dangerous. I’d always relied on my mom to point out what’s right and wrong, so whenever I started to feel anxious, I’d glance up to gauge her emotions, half expecting her to shoot me the stern look she’d usually give me when I misbehaved. But when we caught eyes, she gave me a quick smile and squeezed my hand. I took that as reassurance that even though this situation was far from normal, it was something we had to do.

After many attempts, a door finally slid up and in we went. That’s how we spent our very first night in America: sleeping in the garage of a stranger who didn’t even know we were there.

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About this edition

• Publisher: Avery
• Publication date: 2015
• ISBN 10: 1592409504
• ISBN 13: 9781592409501
• Binding: Hardcover
• Number of pages: 224