When I was six years old I went to this beach club with my uncles and my cousins. My cousin Stephi was an eight-year-old back then, and I wanted to be “a grown up” like her so badly that I imitated her in almost everything she did.  When we arrived at our three day vacation destination we ran up to the new stand; I wanted some chocolate and Stephi wanted something to read. She bought a magazine called “TU” (you in Spanish), and just to play grown-up, I ask for one too. I followed my uncles to our beach spot, and sat there with my magazine in hand. Words like “sex”, “clubbing”, “miniskirts” appeared written in the pages. Words unknown to me, words that were taboo for so long.  I didn’t understand most of those words until I turned 11-12 and receive and awful amount of information about my body and *cough cough* men’s private parts. But before hitting puberty, I kept reading TU Magazine. Truth to be told, it was a poorly written and edited magazine. Pictures didn’t belong to certain articles, and some overlapped the words printed in the page. Sometimes words were missing and some pages were upside down. It was a mess. But I bought it for anyways. I spent afternoons pretending I was the chief of the magazine (at that age, the term “Editor in Chief” was unknown to me). I corrected some grammar and spelling mistakes. I saw the models in the fashion section, and choose the ones that were good enough for the next issue. I circled the pictures that belong to other articles and wrote the words that were missing.  It was my own game, and I loved it.