singing as my sanctuary

I’ve been singing for as long as I can remember—belting out songs was always how I felt most alive. But early on, singing became much more than just something I loved. It became my sanctuary. Growing up amidst emotional chaos, instability, and family turbulence, my voice was my safe space. It was where I could express what felt impossible to say, where I could be seen and heard, even if just by myself.

journeying into darkness

But somewhere along the way, singing shifted. It stopped feeling like an act of freedom and started feeling like an act of validation. On stage, everything looked polished and perfect. Inside, though, I was empty, disconnected, trying desperately to prove I was enough. The praise I received from others, paradoxically, became the source of my deepest fears. I was praised for my voice but judged for being "too loud," "too much," or never enough of something else. It created this painful tension—craving validation but feeling overwhelmed and unsafe when attention finally came.
 

To protect myself from that vulnerability, I leaned into substances to cope. Singing sober felt too raw, too exposed. I felt deeply disconnected—not just from my voice but from my truth.