Here’s a question I think about constantly as a songwriter: What makes someone hear a song for the first time and feel like it was written about them?
That’s the magic I’m chasing every time I sit down to write. Not just a good melody. Not just clever lyrics. The feeling that makes someone stop what they’re doing, put their hand to their heart, and say oh — that’s exactly it. That’s exactly how it feels.
I think it comes down to specificity. The weird paradox of songwriting (and all storytelling, really) is that the more specific you are, the more universal it becomes. When I wrote about floating in a pool with a cold drink, not wanting to get my hair wet — that is such a specific, silly, real thing. And yet the response was huge because everyone who heard it immediately thought of their version of that exact moment. Their specific embarrassing summer experience.
When I wrote about empty chairs at the Thanksgiving table — the loved ones who aren’t there anymore — that came from a real, personal, painful place. And the response broke my heart open in the best possible way, because so many people carry that same grief into every holiday.
The song didn’t need to be their loss. It just needed to be a loss, described truly enough that they could find their own inside it.
That’s what I’m always trying to do. Every album, every song. Make something true enough that you feel seen.
Is there a song of mine that hit you like that? Tell me in the comments — I genuinely want to know. It means the world to me when music lands the way it’s supposed to.
Follow me on streaming so you never miss what’s coming next. I have some songs in the works that I truly believe are going to do that very thing for a lot of people.
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