You don't know me yet, but I am a Venezuelan girl. I have lived in Venezuela almost my entire life. I have enjoyed all the marvels and wonders of living under the rule of the hot sun, yet I have suffered it too.

As you probably already know, this 30 million inhabitants country located north in the Southern hemisphere has been under the rule of an allegedly communist regime for two decades now. We, the twenty-something-ers, don't know anything else.

One word determines your life: Centralization. Here, if you don't live in Caracas, the capital city, you have limited opportunities for growing personally. That's why most move, I did. 90% of my coworkers were born and raised in the provinces. So, while still young, we left our homes and parents to live the life.

In 2009, after selling a mattress and a TV, my divorced mom and I were ready to rent a small room for one with a tiny bed, where we didn't completely fit, which cost 1300 bolívares back then. Now, a cheap rented room costs from 2 to 3 million bolívares. Can I afford that? Not really. Right now, I'm living at a friend's house, not in Caracas, but one hour away from it. Still, it's better than going back home.

Now, next time you think of Venezuela, remember all these talented and aspiring young people who are striving against adversity and who, like me, have nowhere to live.