When I turned fourteen, my grandma handed me a Pentax K1000, a set of lenses, and a tripod—as if I needed more encouragement to leave the house. I signed up for night photography classes not to interfere with my surfing and school schedule. And I enjoyed it so much that I decided to become a professional photographer. But my dad said, “No. You will die of hunger as a photographer in Brazil.” To his horror, I fell in love at sixteen and moved to the U.S. at seventeen with my Pentax to live with my surfer boyfriend. My parents realized they couldn’t tame my rebellious self and let me go. They thought I’d be back within a year, but I stayed for 30.
I settled in, matured (somewhat), and became a responsible American citizen. I got an Associate of Applied Science in Computer Graphic Design because my dad had read it was “the job of the future.” I didn’t argue; we’d already done enough of that. And though he’d prefer me sticking to “real jobs,” he supports my writing now—or at least knows better than to argue about it.
As an art director in the ad and magazine world, I met some brilliant photographers who inspired me to improve my photography and photo retouching skills, which became my primary source of income. A magazine editor friend urged me to try writing, but I thought she was crazy since English is my second language. Still, I followed her advice and enrolled in every creative writing class I could afford.
Life took many turns, leading me to work as a para-educator at a K-12 special education school, teaching technology and social skills to children who reminded me of my younger self. I loved it so much that I returned to school, earning a B.A. in English Literature from Grand Canyon University. The plan was to go all-in on academia toward a PhD, but COVID had other ideas.
Now I’m back in Brazil, caring for my parents, and yes, I miss the U.S. But this twist in my story gave me the time to dive into my writing and finish my first novel, Orbiting Hearts—the first of many to come.