Let me take a step back for a second and really process what happened, because I think that’s the only way I can move forward properly. Late February was the turning point. That’s where things started to shift in a way that I didn’t fully understand at the time. I made a decision to reach out to someone that, deep down, I probably shouldn’t have reached out to. Not because they’re a bad person, but because of what that connection represented for me mentally. It wasn’t stable.

I don’t know. I’m just getting sadder and more depressed, and I can feel it happening in real time. Part of it is because I push people away—but in my mind, I do it for a good reason. I tell myself they were going to push me away first anyway. I’ve been rejected enough times to believe that before anything even starts, it’s already over. There was this one person I felt close to. We had a shared trauma bond, both struggling with our mental health in different ways. I thought

I’ve always lived with a quiet but persistent fear: the feeling of being overexposed. To me, overexposure isn’t just about being visible. It’s deeper than that. It’s the feeling that people know too much about you—your thoughts, your next moves, your vulnerabilities, your private life. It’s the sense that nothing is truly yours anymore. No privacy. No mystery. No control. When you’re overexposed, it feels like your identity is no longer in your hands. It feels like other peop

We’re officially in a new year— 2026 —and I won’t lie, it feels different. It feels heavy, but it also feels purposeful. After everything I went through last year, I made a vow to myself that this year would be the best year of my life , not because things will magically be easier, but because I’m finally willing to do the work without excuses. Last year taught me something humbling: I’m not special.  And I don’t mean that in a depressing way—I mean it in a grounding way. Non

It’s the start of a brand-new month, and while the world around me is still moving, I’m in the trenches. Deep. Emotionally, mentally, physically. But I’ve been here before—and every time I feel the weight, I remind myself: I have a plan . This blog is my honest check-in, and if you’re reading this, you’re getting the raw me. No filters. 💿 A Vision for My Music Career — Even in the Chaos I’ve made it clear in previous posts that one of my top goals is to get my music career o

This is a period of intentionality —a season where I have to be unapologetically focused and aggressive about hitting my goals. And right...