From Teacher to Change Maker, A Story of Reinvention

I was born in the Dominican Republic, an island full of color, flavor, and contradictions. I grew up surrounded by family love, strong cultural traditions, and a sense of community that deeply shaped my identity. From a young age, I was drawn to stories, words, and the beauty of everyday life. But like many Dominican girls, I was taught to seek stability: a good job, a family, a “respectable” life.

My path began in education. I became a teacher and, for almost thirteen years, I taught at Lux Mundi, a school that still holds a special place in my heart. I loved my work, but something inside me longed for more. I dreamed of the editorial world—of writing, of being behind a cover that said something, that represented women like me. And that dream always had one setting: New York City.

In 2006, my life took a radical turn. I moved to the United States with my husband, leaving behind family, stability, and everything familiar. It wasn’t easy. Adapting to a new environment, far from my support system, was more of an emotional challenge than a cultural one. I never had a language barrier or an accent to hide. My Spanish is flawless, and so is my English. But I did have to carve out a space for myself in a country that doesn’t always see us—or worse, only sees us as “the help.”

Over the years, I’ve heard countless comments that remind me of the lens through which many view immigrants like me. “Wow, you’re so well-spoken!” “I’m impressed by your education!” “You run a magazine? Really?” As if those accomplishments were somehow surprising. As if ambition, intelligence, and leadership were not expected from someone who looks like me, or comes from where I come from. But still, I rise.

I got certified to teach in New York, and although I returned to the classroom, I soon faced a silent enemy: postpartum depression. Having my first child in a foreign country—without my mother, without my lifelong friends, without that Dominican coro that lifts you up—broke me. But it also opened my eyes. I realized many women were suffering silently. So, I decided to speak up. I started a blog, VCoppes.com, where I wrote openly about motherhood, mental health, fashion, and life. That was the first step toward something that would change my life entirely.

One day, at an Aldo store, I met an executive who offered me a managerial position. I said yes. And it was there—among shoes, displays, and clients of every background—that I reconnected with my creativity. Inspired by fashion, I created my own jewelry line. In 2009, that line was featured in BELLA Magazine, and my name was printed in a magazine for the first time. I cried. Not out of vanity, but because I knew that was the beginning of something big.

Soon after, I joined BELLA’s team as Marketing Director and Digital Strategist. I learned everything about the publishing world from the inside. I didn’t have a journalism degree, but I had passion, discipline, and a story to tell. In 2019, when the opportunity came to acquire the magazine, I didn’t hesitate. I took the leap—scared, but with all the courage that my immigrant journey had taught me.

Since then, I’ve transformed BELLA Magazine into BELLA Media + Co., an international multimedia company with offices in New York, Miami, Los Angeles, and New Jersey. Today, we publish five magazines in English and Spanish, including BELLA LATINA, a dream come true: a platform that celebrates our culture, our language, and our authenticity.

But it hasn’t been easy. I’ve faced closed doors, skepticism, and stereotypes. I’ve had to prove, time and time again, that an immigrant woman, a mother, a Caribbean woman—yes, Dominican hasta la tambora—can lead a media company in one of the most competitive markets in the world. And I’ve done it without ever hiding who I am.

My relationship with my homeland is one of deep love. I go back whenever I can. I share my sazón, my music, the incomparable Dominican joy. My story is stitched together with merengue, plantains, nights of blackouts, and my family’s tales. But it’s also stitched with the resilience of those who cross physical and emotional borders to build a better future.

Today, in addition to leading BELLA, I host the Real Talk with BELLA podcast, where I interview inspiring voices and dive into topics like culture, entrepreneurship, mental health, and reinvention. I’ve built a multimedia company that not only pays taxes and creates jobs, but also serves as a platform for countless creatives in this industry to pursue their own dreams. I’m also the co-founder of ETTWomen, an organization that supports women who have survived domestic violence and sexual assault—because I’m a survivor too. And if life has taught me anything, it’s that the past does not define the future—it shapes it.

My story isn’t just mine. It’s the story of so many women who came to this country with a suitcase full of dreams, who raised children between two cultures, who searched for belonging without losing themselves. It’s the story of an island that lives in me, even thousands of miles away.

Being an immigrant is not just a status—it’s an identity. A constant fight to validate our place. It’s living with one foot here and one foot there, with equal parts nostalgia and hope. But it’s also a blessing: it makes us brave, it makes us creative, it makes us unstoppable.

My name is Vanessa Coppes. I’m a mother, wife, immigrant, entrepreneur, Dominicana, and dreamer. And this is my story. I write it with pride, with gratitude, and with the certainty that there’s still so much more to tell.