There’s a strange kind of power in finding your voice, and an even stronger magic in using it.

Growing up in Puerto Rico, I always dreamed big. My safe haven was books, notebooks, and dreams of a future where I could write, speak freely, and live as the most authentic version of myself.

But getting to that place wasn’t easy.

In fact, it was painful.

I still remember walking down the narrow halls of my small private high school, my Green Day Dookie shirt on, full of teen angst and identity. That day, the laughter behind me echoed louder than usual. Apparently, I “wasn’t punk rock enough.” One day, I found chewed gum in my hair. Yes, chewed gum, tossed at my hair during English class in 8th Grade.

The bullying left its scars. I was different. I loved books more than gossip, music more than parties, and expression more than conformity. But instead of breaking me, those moments shaped me.

Years later, I can say I’ve made peace with that past. I’ve learned that forgiveness is part of growth, but forgiveness doesn’t mean forced friendship. Just because you spent a lifetime with someone from K through 12th grade doesn’t mean you owe them a reunion. We’ve all changed, and we all deserve the right to reintroduce ourselves, or not.

The friends I did keep from that time, I chose with intention. People like Yoncie, Ramón, and Selina, one who showed up for me at one of the hardest moments of my life, my grandfather’s funeral, remind me what true friendship looks like: love, empathy, and showing up without being asked.

Books got me through the dark times. Stories were my escape, my inspiration, and my blueprint for dreaming bigger. And those dreams led me to where I am now, teaching, writing, living boldly, and surrounding myself with people who lift me up.

The most beautiful part? Some of the greatest friendships I have now were formed later in life, when I was finally myself, when I found my voice.

So here’s to the dreamers, the readers, the bullied kids who grew up into strong, forgiving adults. You’re allowed to rewrite your story. And you’re allowed to grow far beyond the pages of your past.

As the new Superman movie states, “maybe kindness is the new punk rock.”

So maybe I am punk rock after all.