In our Q&A/Tell Me Más series, we ask some of our favorite Latin celebrities to share some insider information about their lives and some of the ways they prioritize their mental health. This month, we spoke with reggaetón artist Moffa about how being adopted by Puerto Rican parents has impacted his music, identity, and how he navigates the world.
You can’t talk about rising reggaetón artists in 2024 without mentioning Moffa. The 22-year-old Puerto Rican has seen his star rise at lightning speed over the past two years. In 2022, he was one of three lucky young artists—along with Alejo and Jotaerre—who collaborated with superstar Karol G on the hit “Un Viaje,” flying him to Colombia to work on the track himself. Since then, he’s released a steady stream of bangers like “Bentley Remix,” “Sussy,” “DAMMN,” and “0 Millas,” all of which have surpassed millions of combined streams. His versatile flow and catchy lyrics have seen other artists flock to him, from established stars like Manuel Turizo And paopao to OGs like Ñengo Flow.
On July 18, Moffa’s debut album finally dropped. Titled “Playground,” the project reflects his unbridled enthusiasm and curiosity. As he says, “Even as an adult, I still feel like a kid in many ways,” which partly inspired the LP’s name. Not only are the emotions and experiences he explores through its tracks his own personal emotional playground, but so too is the diversity of sounds he experiments with as an artist. The recording studio and life itself are both his playgrounds.
For a long time, Moffa was a private person, never delving too deeply into his personal life. While He has hinted at his origins in the past.He has never shared details about his past.
Although he was born and raised in Puerto Rico, he was actually adopted. Moffa is the Afro-Latin American son of a Brazilian mother and a Dominican father. His mother tragically passed away when he was still an infant, and he and his twin sister were adopted by Puerto Rican godparents, whom he now considers his biological parents.
In an exclusive chat with PS, Moffa opens up about what it was like to learn he was adopted, his struggle to reconcile with his biological family members, whether he ever questioned his identity, how he came to terms with his roots, and more.
The following quotes have been translated, edited and summarized for ease of understanding.
PS: Where were you born and raised?
Moffa: I was born in Puerto Rico, in Bayamón. I grew up in the metropolitan area, but I traveled a lot to Isabela and Aguada because my family is from there, from the west. [of the island.] We go every weekend or every other week, so I feel like I’m being nurtured on both sides.
PS: When did you find out you and your sister were adopted?
Moffa: I’ve known since I was a little girl. My biological mother died when I was nine months old, of cancer, and I never met my biological father. And so, after she passed away, [my godparents] adopted us and became my parents. They were friends with my mom when they were kids. They were friends with each other. Nothing was hidden from us, thank God. They let us know that, yes, we were adopted. And people would ask us anyway when they saw my mom and dad because we weren’t the same color at all. [laughs]. It would be difficult to convince anyone that they were my biological parents.
PS: You said that you found out you were adopted at a young age. How would you describe how your parents raised you and your sister; did they make sure that this knowledge never weighed on you or affected you?
Moffa: I think they were always transparent and never hid anything from us, absolutely. They were always upfront about our background and our history — where we came from. And if we wanted to go to those places and learn about them, they supported us and really encouraged us to explore every corner and space of the family that we didn’t know about.
PS: I know kids can be cruel; were you bullied as a child because you looked different from your parents? How did you cope, if so?
Moffa: I haven’t actually been bullied. In Puerto Rico, I feel like discrimination still exists, but it’s not as bad anymore. I think we should all realize that we’re all the same. I’m not and will never be different just because I’m adopted or have a different family.
PS: Do you know anything about your birth parents? Have you had any contact or interaction with them? If so, how do you feel?
Moffa: To this day, my family from Brazil still keeps an eye on me. They write to me from time to time via direct message, but it’s difficult to communicate because I don’t speak. [Portuguese,] so i am using [translator apps] to write back to them.
I’ve never mentioned this publicly, but a few days ago, my biological father actually ‘liked’ one of my social media posts. And it was like, “Oh my gosh” because I’ve never met him. […] I heard I might have seven siblings on my father’s side. It’s a tough situation. You don’t want to look down on that person because you [exist] because of them. But because there’s no relationship there — no affection, no love — you don’t know how to react or what to do. [They say] “We’re here if you need anything,” but that feeling isn’t there. It’s weird.
PS: Are you curious to meet them or any of your extended family members over there?
Moffa: Well… to me, you’re really focused on your own stuff, you know? You’re discovering all this stuff, which fortunately was revealed to me when I was much younger. But I’m not curious because you feel like you’re cheating on your current family — the people who have given me my whole life, who have given me a roof over my head. I have no problem meeting [them,] That’s great, but my family deserves respect too.
PS: When it comes to your identity, what conversations have you had with others or with yourself? Now that you’re older, is that something you struggle with?
Moffa: Unfortunately, I don’t know much about Brazilian culture. I know a little bit about the history, but I’ve never been to visit the country to get to know it properly. Neither the Dominican Republic nor Brazil. But for me, I’m Puerto Rican, just Brazilian and Dominican blood. I have a lot of relatives in Brazil, but I’m very clear about my identity.
PS: The past few years have heated up the conversation around cultural appropriation, even among Hispanics and Latinos, and whether or not they can write songs in genres that are historically and culturally tied to specific countries. You are in a unique position where you can comfortably write across genres. Have you ever considered writing Brazilian funk or Dominican dembow?
Moffa: Last year I released my first Brazilian funk track, produced by Young Martino and Hokage. It’s called “TOKO,” and I remember thinking exactly that. Like, “Can I really do this? Am I allowed?” I never felt like, “Oh, this is my birthright, and I have to do this,” you know? I wanted to experiment with it, and I loved the sound of it. I couldn’t wait to go to one of their festivals. I think that was one of my biggest goals, to be able to go to a festival in Brazil. It’s not only one of the most popular events in Brazil, but it’s also famous all over the world.
PS: Since your parents have known your mother for a long time, I’m sure they’ve talked to you about her. Do you think you have any of her characteristics? Have you thought about how your life might have been different if she had raised you?
Moffa: From what I hear, if she were still here, I probably wouldn’t [have the success] I am in music now. Both because of the resources available. [to her,] but also her personality. Maybe I wouldn’t have pursued music. Maybe I would have been raised to work harder and go into a more “proper” field like a doctor or engineer. I’m sure I could have pursued my dreams, but I think it would have been harder.
And she looks more like my sister too, [laughs]
PS: There still seems to be a stigma or shock when people find out that someone is adopted, partly because of society’s outdated notion that “ideal” families conceive their children. I disagree with that; in my own case, my father was not my biological father, but he was still my father. What would you say to people who find out they’re adopted—or anyone who, for whatever reason, feels like the “other” in their group?
Moffa: Don’t feel sorry for yourself or feel different. You are a normal person like everyone else who has achieved their dreams, and you can do the same. Sometimes these things will come up in life, in your personal life, at work, or in conversations with people close to you, but you just have to face it. Don’t feel bad about it. Be yourself, pursue your dreams, and live your life as it is. Of course, don’t pretend that it’s not real, because it’s a part of you. But don’t hide it. Be proud of it, even. Don’t run away from it.
I’m happy and proud of where I come from. I don’t think being adopted holds me back or anything. I’m a normal person, just like any other man… I can do whatever I want if I put my mind to it.
PS: What have you learned about mental health that you apply today — not necessarily in terms of your identity, but even in your career? How do you manage anxiety and things like that? What advice have you received?
Moffa: In this fast-paced industry, you have to stay grounded and aware of your place in life above all else. You [have to] Be patient with what is going on around you and don’t rush through it. Sometimes I find myself asking a thousand questions in my head, but then I have to stop and focus on myself and my thoughts, and calm down. Sometimes, you just need to shed a tear to release all the anger or anxiety we feel when faced with adversity in this world with its ups and downs. It can be helpful to let it all out and not let your emotions overwhelm you.
Juan J. Arroyo is a Puerto Rican freelance music journalist. Since 2018, he has written for PS, Remezcla, Rolling Stone, and Pitchfork. He focuses on expanding the picture of Latino stories and making Latino culture—especially Caribbean Latino culture—more visible in the mainstream.
