Album Real Experiences: Listen Now
Music has always been a reflection of life’s highs and lows, and with our latest album, Real Experiences, We aim to capture the essence of those moments that define us. This collection is more than just a series of songs; it's a journey through raw emotions, personal stories, and the universal experiences that connect us all.
The Inspiration Behind the Album
The idea for Real Experiences came from a desire to share the stories that often go untold. Each track delves into themes of love, loss, hope, and resilience. Drawing from personal experiences and the world around us, we wanted to create music that resonates with listeners on a deep, emotional level.
What to Expect
From the haunting melodies of "I Was Never The Shame" to the uplifting rhythms of "Soul Wrote This Story," the album offers a diverse range of sounds and styles. Whether you're seeking solace in a quiet ballad or energy in an upbeat track, there's something in Real Experiences for everyone.
01. I Was Just a Child
This song is my truth. “I Was Just a Child” tells the story of growing up in emotional pain, confusion, and neglect — a child left unseen, unheard, and misjudged by the very people who were supposed to protect me. These lyrics are drawn directly from my lived experience: being dismissed when I was suffering, used as an emotional battleground, and made to feel like I was never enough or even whole.
But it’s also a story of reclamation. Of rising from the silence. Of healing the wounded inner child and becoming the love that was denied to me. It’s about facing the trauma, acknowledging the scars, and turning them into strength.
This isn’t just a song — it’s a declaration of survival, of self-love, and of finally speaking the truth I was told to keep quiet.
02. Not My Home
“Not My Home” is a visceral journey into the hidden truth of my upbringing — a childhood spent in physical filth and emotional neglect, buried under silence and shame. Behind closed doors, I lived in chaos: mold, maggots, urine-soaked blankets, and secrets swept under the rug like dust no one wanted to deal with. While the world was shown a clean façade for a day or two, I endured the rot that was never acknowledged.
This song exposes what I was forced to normalize, even as my spirit quietly resisted it. It’s a testament to the pain of growing up in a place that felt more like a trash can than a home — and how I survived it.
But it’s also about reclaiming power. About refusing to inherit dysfunction as identity. About choosing peace, dignity, and cleanliness — not just in space, but in spirit.
This isn’t just about the dirt. It’s about how I refused to become it. I made my own home, far from what I was born into. This is my voice, rising from the grime.
03. I Was Never The Shame
This song is my scream into the silence. “I Was Never the Shame” is a fearless telling of the unspoken — of childhood trauma, sexual violation, and betrayal by those who should have protected me. It exposes what happened behind closed doors: the intrusions, the neglect, the manipulation, and the silence that made it worse.
It’s not just about what they did — it’s about what they tried to make me believe. That it was my fault. That I was dirty. That I should carry their shame. But I won’t. This song is my rebellion against that lie.
Every verse holds a memory I was once told to bury. Every line is a piece of truth I was punished for speaking. But now, I say it loud: I was never the shame. I was the child. I was the light. And I survived what was meant to break me.
This isn’t just music — it’s justice. It’s healing. It’s the fire they couldn’t put out.
04. I Walked Alone (But I Learned to Fly)
This song is a tribute to the child I once was — walking alone, misunderstood, and invisible to the world. “I Walked Alone (But I Learned to Fly)” tells the story of growing up surrounded by poverty, neglect, bullying, and danger — yet still finding small sparks of hope in learning, books, and silent resilience.
I was the child laughed at for my clothes, pushed in the street, ignored at home, and followed by shadows no one cared to notice. My house was filled with unspoken pain, and school was both a battlefield and a lifeline. No one walked me home. No one asked what I was going through. But somehow, I kept going — because even in silence, my soul was loud.
This song honors every child who walks alone, who carries burdens far too heavy, and who hides their strength behind quiet eyes. It's a reminder that survival is a kind of flight — and that sometimes, the most powerful wings are born in isolation.
I didn’t just survive. I learned to fly. And now, I sing for the ones who are still learning.
05. You Were Never Alone
“You Were Never Alone” is a love letter to the brokenhearted — to the ones who’ve cried in silence, questioned their worth, and felt completely unseen. It’s also a reflection of my own journey through deep emotional isolation, those nights when I wondered if anyone would notice if I disappeared. This song speaks to the part of me — and so many others — that has survived in darkness, feeling forgotten and unworthy of love.
But it’s also a message of truth: you were never truly alone. Even when people failed, even when the world was cold, your light never stopped burning. This song is a reminder that pain is not your identity, and that you are not defined by how others treated you.
There is love meant for you. There is healing. And there is a future waiting beyond the shadows. I wrote this for the child I was, and for every soul still holding on. Please stay. Please rise. You were never alone — and you never will be again.
06. Not Yours to Break
This song is a declaration of freedom. “Not Yours to Break” tells the story of surviving emotional manipulation, betrayal, and control — and choosing healing over hate. It’s based on a chapter of my life where I was made to feel like love meant pain, like I couldn’t live without the very person who was slowly destroying me. They tried to bury me in fear, guilt, and silence — even turning my own family against me.
But I lived. I rose. I reclaimed every word they tried to steal.
This song is for anyone who has ever felt trapped in a toxic cycle, questioning their worth, silenced by shame. It’s a reminder that no one — not a partner, not a relative, not anyone — has the right to break your spirit. They don’t own your truth. They don’t write your story.
I wrote this for the part of me that finally said no more. For the part that remembered who I am, beneath all the damage. This song is survival. It’s fire. It’s freedom. And it’s proof that healing is possible, no matter how deep the wound.
07. Unbound
“Unbound” is an anthem of liberation — the moment you finally cut the cords of control, manipulation, and gaslighting that tried to keep you small. This song was born from my personal experience of being underestimated, controlled, and betrayed by people who couldn’t stand to see me rise — especially those who hid their envy behind masks of care, or who used subtle control disguised as protection.
They tried to distort my identity, to break my spirit, to rewrite my story. Some used emotional games, others spiritual manipulation — but all tried to dim a light that was never theirs to touch. This song is about reclaiming what they tried to erase: my name, my voice, my power.
“Unbound” is for anyone who’s ever been told they were nothing — and chose to rise anyway. It’s for the ones who see through the lies, survive the shadows, and decide for themselves who they are.
This is me — unbound, unbroken, and unapologetically free.
08. I Rise Quietly
“I Rise Quietly” is a tribute to the silent fighters — the ones who succeed without recognition, who show up day after day without applause, and who carry themselves with strength even when no one is watching. This song is my story — of growing up without praise, without a cheering section, and often without support. I wasn’t loud. I wasn’t seen. But I kept going.
Every step I took, every goal I met, every tear I wiped on my own — it mattered. This song is about honoring the unseen victories, the ones earned through grit, discipline, and quiet grace. It’s a reminder that worth isn’t measured by how loudly others celebrate you — but by the truth you live, the integrity you keep, and the peace you build inside.
I didn’t rise to impress anyone. I rose because I had to. And I still do.
This is for those who rise in silence, who walk without a crowd, and who still shine. You don’t need noise to matter. Your story, like mine, is powerful — even when told quietly.
09. The Walk
“The Walk” is the story of the day I chose myself — not in anger, not in rebellion, but in truth. It’s about walking away from everything familiar, even when it meant starting from nothing. I had no map, no backup, no certainty — just twenty euros in my pocket and the quiet knowing that staying would destroy me.
This song captures the strength it takes to leave a situation that breaks your spirit, especially when guilt, control, and fear have been used to keep you trapped. I had to walk — bruised, not broken — with only faith guiding me. And somehow, the right people, the right chances, the right light appeared, just enough to keep me moving forward.
“The Walk” is not just about survival — it’s about reclaiming the right to truly live. It’s about choosing soul over safety, truth over illusion, and freedom over comfort. I didn’t run — I rose. And every step since has been mine.
This is for anyone who’s ever walked away with nothing but their soul intact. You are not alone — and you are more than enough.
10. The Hardest Goodbye
“The Hardest Goodbye” is the most painful truth I’ve ever had to write about. It tells the story of walking away from my own children — not because I didn’t love them, but because I loved them so much that I had to choose their safety over my presence. I left not to abandon them, but to protect them from a life of chaos, violence, and fear — the kind that was quietly stealing their joy and swallowing my soul.
This song speaks to the heartbreak of knowing that staying meant watching their light fade, while leaving meant trusting they’d one day understand. I crossed borders, faced poverty, pain, and judgment — all while carrying the invisible weight of a mother’s love that was never gone, only silenced.
“The Hardest Goodbye” is for every mother who had to choose what no one should have to choose — and for the children who may one day ask why. It wasn’t weakness. It wasn’t neglect. It was love in its rawest, most courageous form.
They may not have seen it then. But I hope they will.
11. Hard Streets, Soft Soul
“Hard Streets, Soft Soul” is my story of surviving homelessness — of walking through freezing nights with nothing but a wet towel, of starving while people smiled and offered false promises, of being trapped in modern-day exploitation disguised as help. It’s about living without shelter, safety, or certainty — and still refusing to let that harden my spirit.
I didn’t choose the streets. Life pushed me there. But I chose to hold onto my softness — my kindness, my dignity, my hope. This song is a voice for those still out there in the cold, still unseen, still judged, still surviving. It’s for anyone who’s ever felt forgotten, dehumanized, or voiceless.
“Hard Streets, Soft Soul” is more than a testimony — it’s a reminder that no matter how brutal the world becomes, you can still carry light within. And that those without a roof still deserve warmth, rest, and a future filled with more than just survival.
This song is my voice — blistered, but unbroken. And if you’re down there right now, please know: you are not alone. There is a way out.
12. I Am Still Mine
“I’m Still Mine” is my declaration of freedom — not just from the one who hurt me, but from the fear, the shame, and the deep emotional damage that tried to follow me long after he was gone. This song is about reclaiming myself after abuse, about refusing to let the past define my present, and about healing from the inside out.
There was a time I lived in constant fear — jumping at shadows, flinching at memories, feeling like a ghost of who I used to be. The abuse didn’t end just because the relationship did. It lived in my body, in my breath, in my silence. But I decided to take my power back. I decided to choose my voice, my joy, and my peace.
“I’m Still Mine” is not just a survival anthem — it’s a song of ownership, of rising from the wreckage and declaring: I am still divine. I am still here. I am still mine.
This is for anyone who has ever been broken down and is learning to rise again. You are not what they did to you. You are the fire that remains.
13. Escaping the War
“Escaping the War” is the story of growing up in a battlefield that no one else could see — a home filled with shouting, fear, and emotional collapse. This wasn’t a war of nations — it was the war inside four walls. I was just a child, trying to survive a space that was supposed to protect me. Instead, I had to disappear into my own imagination just to feel a moment of peace.
This song is about dissociation, loneliness, and the quiet ways children cope when love feels like conflict and survival means retreat. I didn’t rebel — I escaped. Not with anger, but with silence. I built invisible castles in my mind because no one built safety around me. I ran — not because I was careless, but because I had nowhere safe to stay.
“Escaping the War” is for those who had to grow up too early, who made mistakes because no one showed them how to do better, who lived on survival mode without anyone noticing. And it’s also about resilience — about the strength it takes to keep going, to keep rising, and to eventually build a peace you were never given.
It’s not about blame. It’s about truth. And healing begins with telling the truth.
14. Home Beyond the Sky
“Home Beyond the Sky” is my song for the ones who’ve always felt out of place — not just in their family, but in this world. It speaks to the quiet ache of growing up in a house that was never truly a home, surrounded by noise, judgment, or coldness, all while carrying a soul that longed for something higher… something kinder.
As a child, I looked to the stars not just with wonder, but with longing — a feeling I couldn't explain. I didn’t want fame, or riches, or escape. I wanted connection. I wanted home. Not the kind made of bricks and rules, but the kind that lives in the heart. A home of resonance. A home of peace. A home I sensed existed far beyond this life.
This song is also about the spiritual knowing — the intuitive pull toward a twin soul, a deeper purpose, a divine origin that can’t be put into words but is always felt. It’s for the dreamers, the starseeds, the old souls — for anyone who feels that part of them belongs somewhere they’ve never been, yet deeply remember.
“Home Beyond the Sky” isn’t about giving up on this world. It’s about trusting that love, truth, and belonging are written in our stars — and we’re never truly alone on the journey to find them.
15. Wings of Light
“Wings of Light” is a deeply personal and spiritual tribute to Archangel Michael — not as a symbol of doctrine, but as a presence who met me in my darkest hours, especially in the astral realm. This song was born from real spiritual encounters, where I sought to heal not just myself, but the child within me who had been silenced, hurt, and left in the shadows.
In those unseen dimensions, I didn’t find judgment. I found patience. I found protection. I found Michael.
Unlike many earthly figures, Michael didn’t demand trust — he earned it. He stood beside me as I wandered, offering light without pressure, showing me that I could rise in my own time. That respect — for my pain, my timing, my space — became a turning point in my healing.
This song is for anyone who’s ever felt the weight of emotional or spiritual wounds, but who believes, or wants to believe, that there are loving forces beyond this world who walk with us, guide us, and give us the space to reclaim ourselves. Archangel Michael didn’t rescue me — he reminded me I could rescue myself.
“Wings of Light” is not just a song. It’s a memory. It’s a healing. It’s a thank-you to a being who didn’t just shine — he helped me find the light within me.
16. Breath of Light
“Breath of Light” was born in a moment when I wasn’t sure I’d make it to the next. It captures the spiritual experience of hitting rock bottom—mentally, emotionally, physically—and then being met by something greater than myself. Not in a loud miracle, but in a quiet, powerful shift. A breath. A spark. A return to life.
This is not just a song about survival—it’s about resurrection. It’s about the sacred moment when your soul is collapsing and, against all odds, something divine breathes you back. I’ve lived through nights where I begged for the pain to stop. This song is my testimony that the answer came—not always in the way I expected, but always in the way I needed.
The “breath of light” is the presence that arrives when everything else fades. It’s grace. It’s God. It’s the invisible strength that steps in when your own strength is gone.
This is for anyone who has ever whispered a final prayer in the dark, unsure if they’d make it to morning. If you’re still here, if you’ve ever felt held when no one else saw you—this song is yours too.
17. The Wall
“The Wall” is a raw, spiritual retelling of one of my most pivotal moments—the night I nearly gave up on life. At sixteen, with emotions too heavy to hold and no space that felt safe to land, I drifted into a spiritual plane where I stood at the edge—what felt like a choice between life and letting go.
This song is about that vision. The wall. The bags I saw were everything I’d buried—my pain, fear, guilt, exhaustion. And yet, in that darkness, I wasn’t alone. A voice, not scolding but loving, told me I wasn’t done. That I had healing left to do. That running away would only bring me back to the same point if I didn’t face what I carried.
No one around me knew. There were no flashing lights, no hospital rooms—just me, spirit, and something divine holding me back from the edge. This wasn’t a song about suicide—it’s a song about not going through with it. About the quiet mercy that pulls you back from despair and the power of facing your pain so it doesn’t keep chasing you.
For anyone who’s ever stood at their own wall—this is a reminder: you are not alone in that moment. And sometimes the biggest turning point is the one no one ever sees.
18. When the Sound Disappeared
“When the Sound Disappeared” tells the moment my walk-in truly arrived. I didn’t know that’s what it was at first. One minute I was standing in the kitchen, surrounded by voices, and the next—everything went silent. The sound literally vanished. Their lips were still moving, but I couldn’t hear a thing.
In that silence, something shifted. I felt the sky open and a presence land in me. I wasn’t just having a strange moment—I was returning, but as someone new. I was stepping into this life as a spiritual walk-in.
I had been gone for years, dissociating through trauma, living like a shell. It’s like the original soul had fought long and hard—and when she couldn’t anymore, I came in. A different consciousness, a different soul essence, but with deep love for the same people. Especially my children.
This song isn’t about death—but a kind of soul transfer, a spiritual handoff. And that moment of silence was the doorway. The past became blurry, like a dream someone else had. But my heart still carried the love, the pain, and the purpose.
I wrote this for those who’ve experienced a soul walk-in, or those who’ve ever felt like they came back different—more awake, more connected, more you, after losing everything. You’re not crazy. Some of us don’t just heal—we transform into someone entirely new, and it’s sacred.
19. Soul Wrote This Story
Soul Wrote This Story is a celebration of the soul’s intentional journey. It’s for anyone who’s been labeled or misunderstood because of their life path or identity. “Soul Wrote This Story” reminds us that who we are is not just a reaction to trauma or circumstance — it’s a conscious choice made by the soul itself.
Our lives, our truths, and even our challenges are written by the soul’s deeper wisdom, designed to teach love, growth, and transformation. This song affirms that we are not broken or wrong — we are purposeful, here to stretch the world’s narrow views and shine with authentic light.
It’s a powerful message of freedom, acceptance, and the courage to live the story your soul truly wrote.
20. You Still Found My Heart
"You Still Found My Heart" reflects two profound moments in my journey as a medium. The first is when I first began to understand and accept the subtle spiritual communications around me—those whispers and signs that others might dismiss, but that I knew were very real.
The second, and even more powerful, moment came many years later with the passing of my father. Though we had been separated by time and silence, his spirit reached out to me—not only through the astral realm but also in my waking life. His presence, calm and loving, reminded me that love transcends all barriers, even death.
This s is a tribute to those sacred connections that cross physical and spiritual divides, and the healing power of knowing our loved ones never truly leave us.
🎧 Listen Now
The album is available on all major streaming platforms. Listen on Spotify, or in other platforms and immerse yourself in the stories that make us human.
