Raised by Love, Strength, & Sauce

When people ask me where I get my drive, my energy, or my love for connection—I don’t have to think twice. It’s my family. My heart, my identity, and my biggest support system all start at home. At the center of it all is my mom—my biggest fan, my fiercest protector, and the strongest woman I know. But the full story? It’s a family affair. A big, loud, very Italian family affair.

My mom was born and raised in Brooklyn, just like me. She’s a single mom who raised me and my older brother on her own, without a college degree, but with more strength and grit than I’ve ever seen in anyone. Watching her raise two kids while working tirelessly to give us a better life was the blueprint for everything I am today. She always dreamed of seeing us go to college—something she never had the opportunity to do—and when that dream became reality, it was just as much her victory as it was ours.

But while my mom is my everything, I didn’t grow up with just one person in my corner. I grew up surrounded by cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents who shaped me just as much. We’re one of those big Italian families where everyone’s in your business (in the best way), and love is loud—like, really loud.

Our traditions aren’t just family activities—they’re a way of life. Christmas and Easter are sacred events that revolve around food, laughter, and togetherness. We spend days preparing for them. Tables overflow with homemade pasta, trays of eggplant parm, and, of course, Nonna’s cookies that somehow never taste the same when anyone else makes them. Everyone has a role—from stirring the sauce to setting the table—and everyone has a story to tell while doing it.

And then there’s Sunday sauce—a weekly ritual that could honestly be its own holiday in our family. The smell hits you the second you walk in the door. There's something magical about a pot of slow-simmered sauce, meatballs, and the whole family packed into the kitchen, bumping into each other, yelling over each other, and somehow still understanding every word. Those Sunday dinners aren’t just meals—they’re memories, lessons, therapy sessions, and love all rolled into one.

Growing up in this kind of environment has been a blessing beyond words. My family taught me what it means to show up for each other, to put love into everything you do (especially food), and to always honor where you came from. That cultural pride runs deep in me. It’s the reason I created Bella Breve—a coffee brand rooted in my New York Italian identity—for a personal branding project in my Marketing for Entrepreneurs class. It’s the reason I value authenticity and human connection in everything I do, especially in my work.

Whenever life gets hectic—school, work, figuring out what’s next—I always come back to them. To my mom, who reminds me that I’m capable of anything. To my brother, who’s been my built-in best friend since day one. And to the rest of my wild, wonderful family, who remind me that home isn’t just a place—it’s people. It’s laughter in the kitchen. It’s sauce on the stove. It’s traditions that never get old and love that never runs out.

No matter where life takes me—whether I stay in Miami’s sunshine or end up back home in Brooklyn—I’ll carry my family’s love with me. It’s the heartbeat of who I am, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.