The Story Behind the Stories
When I searched for books that reflected me, I was often handed stories that felt like mirrors I didn’t want to look into. Stories defined by trauma, poverty, violence, or redemption earned through suffering.
Dominican. Puerto Rican. Washington Heights. The Bronx. Section 8. Food stamps. Public schools. Food insecurity. The distant promise of something better.
Those stories were real. They just weren’t what I was searching for. I wasn’t looking to be reminded of survival. I was looking for meaning.
The Stories I Was Given
The one thing no one around me could teach was how to live in a body the world refused to normalize. The physical pain. The emotional weight. The quiet loneliness of navigating a life without a guidebook.
So I wrote my own.
I write stories where scars and pain are not something to overcome for the comfort of others, but something that shapes who we become. Where love, identity, and self-worth are explored honestly. Where characters are allowed to be unfinished, complicated, and human.
Through characters like Adelina and Jackson, and alongside voices like Liam, Yoona, Zahra, and Matthew, my work explores what it means to grow into yourself when the world has already decided who you are.
Why These Stories Matter
The Year We Became More is the story my younger self searched for in library aisles and bookstore shelves. It is my answer to a question I asked in silence for years.
Why me?
The answer was never about pity.
It was about visibility.
The spotlight now shines on our scars, our battles, and our becoming. We were never meant to be pitied.
We just weren’t seen.
