Between Scars and Dreams

 I was born in San Juan de la Maguana, a place full of humble, hardworking people with their feet on the ground. Ever since I was a little girl, I felt a deep desire to help others. It wasn’t just a childhood dream—it was a certainty: I wanted to become a doctor.

I grew up knowing that hard work could overcome any obstacle. I didn’t come from wealth, but I was raised in a family that taught me to fight for what I wanted, to never settle, and above all, to have faith.

Getting into the Autonomous University of Santo Domingo was a huge achievement—but it wasn’t easy. Endless hours of study, sacrifices, moments of doubt… and still, every time I saw someone get better thanks to a diagnosis or treatment, I remembered exactly why I was there.

Later, I specialized in general surgery, and then came one of the hardest decisions of my life: leaving my seven-month-old daughter to go to Venezuela and study plastic surgery. I left with a broken heart, but with the conviction that I was building a better future for her… and for many people I hadn’t even met yet.

Nothing in my life has been handed to me. I’ve had to open doors—sometimes force them open. I had to prove again and again that I was capable, that I had something to offer. As a woman in a male-dominated field, as a young mother, as a Dominican doctor abroad… I had to earn my place with hard work, integrity, and heart.

Every emotional scar made me stronger. And every time a patient said “thank you,” it all made sense.

One regular day, a patient from Boston shared her experience with me on Instagram. That post went viral—and without realizing it, Yily Plástica was born. But more than a brand, it became my mission: to offer plastic surgery with humanity, safety, and transparency.

Through social media, I found a way to educate and show that it’s not just about superficial beauty. Surgery can also heal the soul, rebuild self-esteem, and bring light back to someone’s eyes.

I’ve had the privilege of supporting thousands of women through their transformation journeys. Some come with heartbreaking stories, others with fear, others with hope. Each one leaves something in me. They teach me, move me, inspire me.

I don’t sell perfect bodies. What I seek is for every woman to see and feel good about herself—to make peace with her reflection. To look at herself with love.

When I was invited to Washington D.C. to represent Dominicans at the Capitol, I felt that my story—the story of that little girl from the south—was also the story of so many others who quietly fight for their dreams.

Today, I look back and I’m grateful for every fall, every “no,” every sleepless night. Because of all that, I am who I am. And because of all that, I can now lend a hand to those coming behind me.