Music is my bliss

The first time I stepped on stage, I was just five or six years old. I still remember the rush—the warmth of the stage lights, the blurred faces in the audience, the electric thrill of knowing all eyes were on me. I was prepared, confident, and ready to shine. As I sang and performed, I felt something I had never felt before—pure bliss. It was freedom, a moment where every note I sang and every move I made mattered, where my voice would be heard and remembered. There was never a single moment when I fell in love with music—it was always there. It flowed through my home, through my parents, through every song that played around me. My dad filled the air with The Beatles, Pink Floyd, and Led Zeppelin, while my mom adored Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston, and Celine Dion. Their love for music shaped mine, and I embraced both worlds.

I started singing as soon as I could form words, and once I did, I was unstoppable. My dad would strum his guitar, and I would sing along without hesitation. Any family gathering became my stage. I’d climb onto a chair or a stool, declare, “I’m singing tonight,” and perform whatever songs I knew.

So it continued—my love for music growing louder and more undeniable. Eventually, my parents realized they had to do something about my endless desire to sing, so they enrolled me in a music school. That’s where I had my first real performance.

Then, everything changed. When I was 10, I moved to Canada. The transition was incredibly difficult. I didn’t speak English, which made it hard to connect with others, and for a long time, I felt isolated. But through it all, I had one constant: music. No matter how lonely or overwhelming my days were, I could always come home and sing. It kept me grounded, gave me something to hold onto, and reminded me that I was enough.

Music became my escape. In the darkest years of my life, it was my light. No matter what happened socially, I could always escape into its open arms, losing myself in it. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without it. It has become one of the biggest and most constant parts in my life.

But as time went on, I realized that just loving music and singing wasn’t enough. I didn’t want to be just a girl who can sing—I wanted to be a musician. So, slowly but surely, I started diving deeper. I studied music theory, learned about its history, picked up new instruments, practiced sight-singing, and immersed myself in every aspect I could. And the deeper I went, the more I fell in love.

But the moment I truly knew—without a doubt—that this was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life was when I started songwriting.

I still remember writing my first song, Forget It All. I had no idea what I was doing. It was almost instinctual—my fingers moving on their own, playing three simple chords that made me think of my past and everything my ten-year-old self had done to get me here. Forget. The song poured out of me, as if it had been waiting to be written. And when I finally stopped, I realized something: I had become a songwriter.

Music is my bliss—the one thing that has shaped me, saved me, and will forever be a part of me.