My passion for the Second Amendment and the right to self-defense was shaped long before I ever touched a firearm — through a painful chapter in my family’s history. My grandmother, a strong and loving woman, was the one who first taught me about the importance of being your own first responder. Her story, one she shared with me so that I would never forget, is what inspires my mission today.

One evening in Puerto Rico, my grandmother went out with her girlfriends for a movie night. They laughed, enjoyed their time together, and after the film, said their goodbyes. She got into her car and headed home to her husband and her young daughter—my mother. But her life changed in an instant.

While driving, she stopped at a stop sign. Suddenly, another car rear-ended her. Like anyone would, she got out to assess the damage. A man stepped out of the other vehicle and calmly told her not to worry — he would handle it. But when she returned to her driver’s seat, he struck her in the back of the head. Three more men came out.

My grandmother fought as hard as she could to defend herself. She screamed, struggled, and resisted. But help did not come. A nearby bystander heard the commotion but assumed it was a domestic dispute and chose not to call the police. That night, my grandmother was brutally assaulted and raped.

She survived—but her life was forever marked by the trauma of that experience. Yet out of that pain, she taught me one of the most important lessons of my life: never rely on anyone else to protect you. Be prepared. Be your own first responder.

From a young age, she taught me the basics of self-defense. But more than that, she instilled in me the mindset of awareness and the belief that as women, we must be capable of defending ourselves. She would often say, “If I hadn’t been disarmed by anti-gun laws, if I was able to carry a firearm that night, things would have turned out very differently.”

In Puerto Rico, strict gun laws meant that law-abiding citizens like my grandmother were left defenseless, while criminals didn’t follow those same laws. Restrictions hurt those who follow the law—not the ones who break it.

Later in life, I married my husband, Luis Valdes, who was a police officer when we met. He helped deepen my understanding of self-defense and firearms. But living in Puerto Rico, I still couldn’t legally own a firearm. The right to protect myself was still out of reach.

Everything changed when we moved to Florida. Here, I was finally able to exercise my constitutional right to bear arms.