For many years, my work has been about holding space for other people’s pain.
I’ve sat with grief, trauma, shame, silence, and survival. I’ve helped people tell their stories when their voices felt lost or buried. And somewhere along the way, like so many caregivers and helpers, I lost touch with parts of my own.
Music was one of those parts.
I wrote Mother when I was much younger, but it took decades to feel safe enough to sing it out loud.
This song lives at the intersection of love and loss, protection and truth, loyalty and letting go. It carries the complicated reality of growing up holding secrets, trying to keep a parent safe, and learning, much later, that healing sometimes means telling the story anyway.
After my mother died unexpectedly, something shifted. The grief cracked me open, but it also brought clarity. I realized that reclaiming my voice wasn’t optional anymore. It was part of my healing.
So I finally recorded Mother.
Not as a polished pop anthem.
But as an honest, piano-and-strings confession.
If you’ve ever:
carried family secrets or lost yourself while caring for others grown up too fast or found your voice later in life
This song might resonate.
You can listen to Mother here on Spotify:
If the song speaks to you, one small thing that truly helps independent artists like me is adding it to your Spotify library or a personal playlist. That simple action makes it easier for the music to find others who might need it.
Thank you for being part of this community.
Thank you for listening.
And thank you for walking the healing path in whatever form it takes for you.
Worthit2bme 