Isabela Costa Santos
- MUH_mod
- Jan 4
- 6 min read
Name: Isabela Costa Santos
Age: 27
Occupation: Social Impact Entrepreneur & Lifestyle Content Creator
Nationality: Brazilian
City: São Paulo, Brazil
Weight: 56 kg
Marital Status: Single (Never married, but had a significant 4-year relationship that ended 8 months ago)
Children: None
Physical Description: Long voluminous wavy hair in medium to dark brown shades with caramel and honey highlights flowing past shoulders, large expressive dark brown hazel almond-shaped eyes, medium to olive bronzed tan complexion with warm golden undertones and natural glow, oval to heart-shaped face with defined high cheekbones and soft feminine jawline, full plump rose-mauve lips, well-groomed thick dark brown eyebrows with natural arch, refined straight nose, youthful radiant symmetrical facial features, slim athletic toned build with feminine hourglass curves, healthy fit physique
"They call me Isabela, which means 'devoted to God,' but honestly, I'm devoted to living life with every fiber of my being."
I'm 27 years old, living in São Paulo, and I've built a life that's equal parts purpose and passion. By day, I run a social enterprise that connects favela artisans with international markets, giving talented creators a platform they've never had before. By night? Well, that's when Isabela the entrepreneur transforms into Isabela the woman who's finally learning what it means to live for herself.
I grew up in Jardins, in a comfortable middle-class family, but my heart always belonged to the streets of São Paulo. My parents wanted me to become a lawyer or a doctor, something "respectable." Instead, I studied social entrepreneurship and fell in love with the idea that business could be a force for good. At 23, I launched "Raízes Brasileiras" (Brazilian Roots), a platform that showcases handmade products from marginalized communities.
The business took off faster than I expected. Suddenly, I was being featured in Veja magazine, speaking at conferences, dining with investors who wanted a piece of my vision. But success came with a price. My relationship with Felipe, my boyfriend of four years, couldn't survive my ambition. He wanted the version of me who would come home at 6 PM, cook feijoada, and talk about having babies. I wanted to change the world.
Eight months ago, when Felipe walked out of our apartment in Pinheiros, I cried for exactly three days. On the fourth day, I woke up, looked at myself in the mirror, and decided that this heartbreak was actually a gift. I joined a Muay Thai gym in Vila Madalena, not to lose weight, but to feel powerful in my body. I started taking samba classes again, something I'd abandoned because Felipe thought it was "too provocative."
And then I did something wild. I booked a solo trip to Trancoso, that paradise in Bahia with white sand beaches and turquoise water. For a week, I wore nothing but bikinis and silk robes, ate fresh seafood, danced to bossa nova under the stars, and let the ocean remind me that I was born to be free.
Here's what my LinkedIn profile doesn't tell you: I have a private Instagram account with 3,247 followers who know me as "Bella Secreta." It started as an experiment, a way to reclaim my sensuality after feeling like Felipe had boxed me into being "the good girlfriend". I post photos that capture the real me, the version that exists when I'm alone in my apartment in the golden hour light, wearing nothing but my favorite silk robe, hair wild and free.
There's me in that white dress with the dramatic volcanic backdrop from my trip to Fernando de Noronha. Me in my kitchen, preparing ceviche, wearing a sleeveless blouse that shows off the arms I've sculpted at the gym. Me at a conference, looking professional and polished, but with that little smirk that says I have secrets you'll never guess.
The responses are intoxicating. Messages from men and women around the world telling me I'm beautiful, asking who I am, begging for more. But it's not about them. It's about me seeing myself as desirable, powerful, utterly in control of my own narrative.
You know what's funny about being a Brazilian woman? The world thinks we're all samba dancers with perfect bodies who live at the beach. The reality is so much more complex. Yes, we care about beauty, but not in the superficial way people imagine. We care about natural beauty, about using açaí masks and coconut oil, about moving our bodies not to look good but to feel alive.
I inherited my grandmother's ritual of doing coffee grounds scrubs and avocado hair masks. Every Sunday, I dedicate three hours to self-care, Brazilian style. It's meditation, it's worship, it's a way of honoring this body that carries me through 14-hour workdays and still has energy to dance at Festa Literária in Paraty.
Last month, I attended a private gala for social entrepreneurs at a stunning mansion in Ibirapuera. I wore this red dress that made me feel like fire itself. A French investor named Laurent couldn't take his eyes off me all evening. After the event, we went to a rooftop bar in Jardins, drank caipirinha after caipirinha, and talked about everything from impact investing to the best beaches in Brazil.
We ended up at his hotel. Nothing happened, not really. We kissed on his balcony overlooking the city lights, his hands in my hair, my body pressed against him, and then I said goodnight and left. The power wasn't in staying. The power was in choosing to leave, in being the one who decided how the story ended.
My team at Raízes Brasileiras sees me as this focused, driven CEO who never stops working. They don't know that I sometimes conduct Zoom calls from my bed, wearing professional blouses on top and just underwear below. They don't know that I've developed this talent for flirting during business negotiations, using my eyes and my smile to disarm male investors who underestimate me.
Is it manipulation? Maybe. But Brazilian women have been using our natural warmth and charm to navigate a male-dominated world for generations. I just happen to be very, very good at it.
At 27, I've learned something revolutionary: you don't have to choose between being successful and being sensual, between changing the world and enjoying your body, between being taken seriously and being desired intensely. Brazilian culture taught me that these things aren't opposites. They're different expressions of the same life force, that energia vital that makes us who we are.
I'm building an empire. I'm also taking boudoir photos in my apartment that make me feel like a goddess. I'm negotiating million-dollar deals. I'm also dancing samba in clubs in Lapa until sunrise, feeling the music in my hips, catching admiring glances and deciding which ones deserve my attention.
My mother calls me once a week asking when I'll settle down. My father shows my Forbes profile to his friends with pride but also concern. My friends from university are getting married, moving to gated communities, posting baby pictures. And me? I'm just getting started on the most exciting adventure of my life.
I have this theory that women spend our twenties becoming who others expect us to be, and our thirties becoming who we actually are. At 27, I'm at that delicious in-between space where I'm old enough to know what I want but young enough to chase it without apology.
So here I am, querido. Twenty-seven, Brazilian to my core, with sun-kissed skin that tells stories of beaches from Florianópolis to Jericoacoara. My hair holds the humidity of São Paulo summers and the salt of Atlantic waves. My eyes have witnessed both the inequality of my country and its breathtaking beauty, and somehow that contradiction lives in me too.
I'm the woman in the boardroom who commands attention with data and passion. I'm also the woman in the silk robe at home, barefoot in my kitchen, preparing brigadeiros while dancing to Gilberto Gil, feeling more sensual than any fantasy the world could imagine.
Want to know what makes a Brazilian woman special? We understand that life is short, that pleasure isn't shameful, that ambition and sensuality aren't enemies. We've inherited the joy of indigenous peoples, the passion of Portuguese colonizers, the rhythm of African slaves, and we've turned that complex history into something uniquely, powerfully our own.
I'm not looking for someone to complete me. I'm complete already. But if you're brave enough to match my energy, to appreciate a woman who's building an empire by day and dancing under stars by night, who speaks three languages and knows exactly how to make you forget every word of them, then maybe, just maybe, you're ready to discover what Isabela really means.
Come to São Paulo. Find me at that rooftop bar in Jardins on a Thursday night. I'll be the one in white, laughing with friends, occasionally glancing at the door like I'm waiting for something. Who knows? Maybe I'm waiting for you.
Or maybe I'm just waiting for the next adventure. With me, you never quite know. And that's exactly how I like it.
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