What Stayed With Me

When I came to the U.S. in 2009, I didn’t arrive with much certainty.

No clear map. No guarantee of stability. Just one thing I knew how to do—one thing I trusted enough to carry with me: music.

Not as a career plan. Not even as a promise. Just something that had already proven it could survive change.

Always Moving

Since then, I’ve moved more times than I can neatly explain. For school. For work. For love. For that vague, shimmering idea of the future that keeps rearranging itself the closer you get.

Every new place felt like a reset. A fresh attempt at becoming someone slightly more settled.

And somehow, in every city, music found its way back to me.

I didn’t plan it. I didn’t always seek it out. But music kept doing this quiet work—introducing me to people. Pulling me into rooms. Turning strangers into collaborators, and collaborators into friends.

Most of the people who’ve stayed in my life arrived sideways like that. A jam session. A shared show. A friend of a friend who played guitar, or drums, or nothing at all but listened closely enough.

Speaking Without Explaining

There’s something about making sound together that skips the formalities.

You don’t have to explain where you’re from, what you do, or why you ended up here of all places. You just play. You listen. You notice when something clicks—and when it absolutely doesn’t.

That shared rhythm creates trust without asking for credentials. It makes room for awkwardness. It lets people be human together before they’re impressive.

The One Thing That Didn’t Leave

Everything else has changed—jobs, zip codes, definitions of home. Even my idea of who I am has stretched and softened over time.

But the need to make music hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s gotten quieter and stronger. Less about proving something. More about staying connected—to myself, to others, to the moment I’m in.

Music keeps opening doors I didn’t know to knock on. It keeps me grounded when everything else feels provisional.

It’s not the only thing that matters.

But it’s the thing that stayed.