Rebel in Search of a Cause

It is no secret that this year like the one before, has been hard on a lot of people. We started off like we always do: jonesing for a fresh start with high hopes for the future. Bright eyed and overly optimistic, I was determined to make a bigger transition to full- time artist. Not just as a singer, but I know my talents lie elsewhere that could potentially be lucrative as well. Every artist’s dream is to say they live off their “art” and I am not ashamed to admit that mine is no different. Although, that concept has changed for me throughout the years.

Fame has never been what I am after. I am a super private person. I do not like people in my business and have kept my circle small my whole life. (I already know that myself and the paparazzi will not have a pleasant relationship seeing as how I value my privacy and have the tendency to have a very. short. fuse in situations where I feel attacked. I am working on it ok). I will say though I have dreamt of the potential financial gain of being a global superstar. Not for mansions and fast cars or designer clothing. But for freedom. Capitol for other business ventures. Money is freedom and freedom is money isn’t it? To come and go as I please is what I dream of these days. To rid myself of these shackles I call the 9-5. To not always feel like I’m living in survival mode. Balancing art with obligation is not for the faint of heart. Finding the financial means and to be honest, the time for both, can drive a person to some dark and lonely places. I read somewhere that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing but expecting different results. I call that the life of a premature artist. We wake up every day with the same dreams and aspirations and literally must do the same thing: Work to eat and keep a roof over our head. Some of us have families and people that depend on us. In my case, as a musician, that means the added expenses of studio time, photoshoots, band expenses, marketing expenses, and I could go on (is it me or did someone suck out the oxygen from the room because I suddenly found it harder to breath). I am not a crier. It takes a lot for me to just break down but many times throughout this journey, I was brought to that point because I knew I was going to get up every day and think about my end goal and what I could do differently to achieve it. The narrative wasn’t going to change for me. And knowing that about myself, knowing that I would choose this goal that seems impossible most days, seems insane to me. But here I am, every damn day, getting up and coming up with a plan.  And so the tears would just flow. A lot is at stake with these dreams. My faith. My identity. My purpose in life. For me, it’s not just for financial gain or celebrity.

When I was younger, my mom sent me to this church convention about hell. Being a difficult and rebellious child, I think she wanted to scare me into religion and/or submission; two things that I wasn’t giving into without a fight. The convention had started but they were having technical difficulties showing the opening movie: whips and chains and burning carcasses. Heathens sentenced to an eternity of pain and misery. (throw in a few tequila shots and some good music and that sounds like a good time to me!). A megachurch filled with nonbelievers and those of the faith alike were starting to get restless when suddenly, the Evangelist, who had been walking around and interacting with the crowd, stopped at my row and told me to stand up. Reluctantly I stood, seething at the fact that I now had a building filled with strangers looking at me. She pulled me to the outside of the pew so everyone could get a better look at this little girl with a chip on her shoulder the size of a mountain who clearly did not want to be there. She told the crowd to take a good look at me and to really take in my face because this was a face that was going to be recognized throughout the world. She went on to say that I was going to be this renowned and talented woman that would make something of herself. That everyone who had doubted me and casted me away would regret it. Growing up in foster care and I had literally just been rehomed from my adoptive parents to yet another family, that group of people seemed to be growing by the day. The church applauded and went on to pray for me. The video never ended up working that night but did for the rest of the weekend. I didn’t know what to make of what this complete stranger from another country who had never laid eyes on me before had to say about my future. Given my current circumstance and the trials and tribulations I had already been through at such a young age, I took her words with a grain of salt. After all, up until this point, what was expected of me was to either end up in jail, on drugs, or a junkie prostitute like my birth mother.  But hey, if she is prophesizing that I was the second coming of Beyonce, then I was going to take it!

Yea yea yea so I had it hard growing up. That is a long and difficult story for another time. The brief moments of light and happiness were often music related. I grew up in Choirs and Theatre Camps. Attempted to write my first song in high school. These moments gave me a break from reality but also hope. Hope for better days. A better tomorrow. A better life. A loophole that would one day allow me to rid myself of the belief that secretly loomed in the back of my mind. That there was a slight possibility I could end up a slave to addiction or just a statistic. Another broken child who couldn’t escape the terrors of a dark and treacherous beginning to their life. That is why I have made it my mission to fill my life with as many of these moments as possible because the feeling I get is euphoric. It is very hard to put into words. I feel alive and my best self. My “art” pushes me in ways that have changed me for the better. Sitting down with my guitar to write a song or coming up with ideas for my screenplays is quite therapeutic. My art has always been my coping mechanism. A way to emotionally express myself in a manner that I feel comfortable with.  Like I said before, life is hard. We have all been through ordeals that have negatively impacted the way we think, the way we live, and the way we view the world. That is why I have always been a strong advocate to find ways to channel all the pain you feel, the anger, the hopelessness, the sadness, into something positive. Be the light. Show others dealing with their own demons that things can and will get better. And if anything, you’re lighting your own path to peace.  I will never give up this tireless pursuit. Because without it, my life would not make sense. All the hurdles I have had to overcome. The talents I’ve been given. The purpose that has been placed upon my heart. The word of God spoken over me…You see why it’s all or nothing? So. Much. At. Stake.

In 2018, on three separate occasions that year, A&R reps from different labels reached out to me. Each time I was overjoyed because it looked like maybe I was closer to my “big break”. Not to bore anyone with the details but they all said the same thing: I was pretty. I was marketable. I was talented enough both vocally and lyrically. I possessed all the makings of a potential superstar. Music to an aspiring singer’s ears. My Achilles heel? My numbers are too low on social media. I don’t have enough followers on Instagram. I need millions of views on YouTube per video to even be considered for a record deal. I needed to show more depth behind my music and who I was as an artist. I won’t lie. These conversations blew the wind right out of my sails. Left me barely able to tread water. Because what you’re telling me is, I am equipped with all the tools to get me to where I want to go most. But the one tool, the tool I could care less about, the tool that is a lot harder to procure than people think, is an online presence. And didn’t I mention that was a private person? Meaning that I like to be in control of when I show “depth”. I like to decide when someone gets a peak behind the proverbial curtain. My vulnerability or lack thereof, is touch and go on a good day ok! So as a true rebel of the system, I said fuck it! I will NOT waste my time on selfies and content to get followers on Instagram. I will NOT waste my time singing covers on YouTube when I am an original artist. While I have those songs that display a different side of me, I will choose to perform and release the upbeat sassy ones because a woman reserves the right to have various and drastically different layers to her and I choose the layer I am most comfortable with first. Fast forward a few years and ask how that strategy is going for me. (Insert uncontrollable laughter that turns into a mental breakdown).

I promise, I’m wrapping it up here and getting to the moral of the story. I’ll admit it. My most toxic trait is my pride. And I am the worst kind of proud. I am the cut-off-my-nose-to-spite-my-face proud. The- douse myself in gasoline on a burning bridge just to show you I can still make it to the other side by myself-proud…I’m working it. Very slowly. It took a global pandemic that literally paused the lives of everyone, not just musicians and artists, to admit that I need to try a different approach. It took a catastrophe that will impact the entertainment industry for decades, if not longer, to realize that the future is digital anyway. Meaning I can get over myself and go with the current for once instead of trying to swim against it and see where it leads me. Meaning I should change my perception on the idea of an online presence. That I’m not seeking views and followers, but rather fans and supporters. Meaning that maybe, just maybe, this is how I spread my own light.

I find that us rebellious types on most occasions, don’t even know what we’re rebelling against. It’s the “system” or the status quo. We think of it as forging our on paths or starting a movement. So original right? Yea, not really. If we’re only hurting ourselves or making our journeys more difficult, then what is the point? To stand in your own way doesn’t make you a rebel. It makes you an obstacle. So this is me, waiving the invisible white flag of surrender. But don’t get it twisted, it has been lit on fire and drenched in the blood of my enemies. Totally kidding. The show, Vikings, has been playing in the background and I was swept in the moment. So as a GenZ-er would say, welcome to my YouTube channel and make sure to follow me on Instaaaaa! Content is coming! Cover songs and photoshoots and vlogs of my witty banter oh my! If it isn’t obvious by now, I think I am hilarious and possess a unique perspective on life. I am also a hot mess buy hey, I’ve been told I have charisma and interesting hair so here goes nothing!