Tag: Broadway

  • You Chose Me

    You Chose Me

    The Gift of Being Chosen

    By Melanie Grace

    Sometimes the deepest gratitude comes from a simple realization: someone chose you.

    “You Chose Me” is the companion piece to “I’d Say Yes Again,” but it flips the perspective. It’s not about who you chose—it’s about the profound, humbling, beautiful experience of being chosen by someone else.

    Maybe it’s a parent who chose to show up, even when things were hard. Maybe it’s a friend who saw you at your worst and decided to stay. Maybe it’s a partner who looked at all your messy, complicated parts and said, “Yes, you. I choose you.”

    This song deepens the emotional intimacy even further. The vulnerability here is in recognizing that we don’t earn being chosen—it’s a gift. And receiving that gift with gratitude instead of doubt or unworthiness is its own kind of courage.

    I wrote “You Chose Me” with a gentle, almost reverent melody because that’s how it feels to really let this truth sink in. Someone looked at you—really saw you—and chose you anyway. Not despite who you are, but because of it.

    At Thanksgiving, we’re surrounded by people who made this choice. They could be anywhere else. They could be with anyone else. But they’re here. With you. And that matters more than we often acknowledge.

    “You Chose Me” is an invitation to feel that. To let gratitude wash over you. To look around the table and recognize the miracle of mutual choosing that brought everyone together.

    Because being chosen is one of the greatest gifts we ever receive.

    And this Thanksgiving, it’s worth acknowledging.

    “You Chose Me” is track 9 on My Thanksgiving, available November 21st.

  • I’d Say Yes Again

    I’d Say Yes Again

    Choosing Love, Every Time

    By Melanie Grace

    Here’s where the album shifts.

    After all the fun and chaos and celebration, “I’d Say Yes Again” brings us into deeper territory. This is where gratitude gets personal. Where we acknowledge the choices that brought us here—and the people who made those choices worth making.

    This song is about commitment. About looking at someone and thinking, “If I could go back and choose all over again, knowing everything I know now—the hard parts, the messy parts, the imperfect parts—I’d still choose you.”

    It works for romantic love, sure. But it’s also about chosen family. About friendships that became something more. About the people who aren’t at your table by accident or obligation, but because somewhere along the way, you both said yes to each other. And you keep saying it.

    I wanted “I’d Say Yes Again” to feel intimate and honest. The melody is warm but has weight to it. Because real love—the kind that lasts—isn’t just butterflies and rom-com moments. It’s choosing to stay. It’s saying yes again when things get hard. It’s gratitude for the person who keeps showing up.

    Thanksgiving is the perfect time for this reflection. We’re surrounded by the people we’ve chosen (and who’ve chosen us), and “I’d Say Yes Again” gives voice to that profound, often unspoken gratitude.

    This is where the album’s emotional arc really begins to deepen. We’ve had our fun. We’ve celebrated. Now we’re settling into what Thanksgiving is really about: acknowledging the relationships that shape our lives and being grateful we get to keep choosing them.

    So to the people you’d choose again—and again and again—this song is for you.

    And to them.

    “I’d Say Yes Again” is track 8 on My Thanksgiving, dropping November 21st.

  • Annual Family Photos

    Annual Family Photos

    Smile and Pretend We’re Not Dysfunctional

    By Melanie Grace

    “Okay, everyone squeeze in!” “Mom, he’s touching me.” “Can we please just take ONE good photo?” “I’m not smiling. This is my face.” “Your eyes were closed. Again.”

    If you’ve ever attempted an annual family photo, you know the chaos. The negotiations. The wardrobe malfunctions. The passive-aggressive comments about who stood where. The inevitability that someone will blink in every. Single. Shot.

    “Annual Family Photos” is peak Broadway energy for a reason—because family photo time is DRAMA.

    I wanted this song to feel theatrical and fun, like a musical number where everyone’s playing their part. Because that’s what family photos are, right? A performance. We’re all pretending to be this coordinated, put-together family for exactly 2.5 seconds while someone yells “Say cheese!”

    But here’s the beautiful part: we keep doing it. Every year. Despite the arguments and the awkwardness and the fact that Aunt Linda will definitely complain about her angle. We keep gathering. We keep trying. We keep creating proof that we showed up for each other.

    The song captures both the absurdity and the love of it all. The way we simultaneously want to strangle each other and also want to remember this moment forever. The way these imperfect, slightly chaotic photos become our most treasured possessions years later.

    This is the energy peak of the album—big, celebratory, a little bit ridiculous, and full of heart. It’s the reminder that family is messy and wonderful and worth commemorating, even when someone’s definitely going to post the worst possible picture of you on Facebook.

    So gather up, squeeze in, and for the love of all that’s holy, open your eyes this time.

    We’re making memories here.

    “Annual Family Photos” is track 6 on My Thanksgiving, dropping November 21st.

  • Empty Chairs

    Empty Chairs

    The Hardest Part of Thanksgiving

    By Melanie Grace

    This is it. The song I had to write but almost couldn’t.

    “Empty Chairs” is about the people who aren’t at the table anymore.

    The grandparent who used to sit at the head. The sibling who’s estranged. The friend who died too young. The parent who’s gone. The relationship that ended. The person who should be here but isn’t, for whatever reason.

    Every Thanksgiving table has empty chairs—whether they’re literal or figurative. And while the holiday is about gratitude and togetherness, it’s also about grief. About absence. About the weight of who’s missing.

    I wanted this song to hit hard because this feeling hits hard. There’s no way to sugarcoat it or make it easier. So I didn’t try. “Empty Chairs” sits in the pain and lets it be what it is.

    The melody is stripped down, raw. Because grief doesn’t need production—it needs space. It needs to be heard and felt and acknowledged before we can move forward.

    Here’s what I’ve learned about Thanksgiving: the gratitude and the grief live right next to each other. We can be thankful for who’s here while mourning who’s not. We can celebrate the life we have while honoring the loss we carry. Those feelings don’t cancel each other out—they coexist.

    “Empty Chairs” is the emotional core of this album because it’s the emotional core of so many Thanksgivings. We gather. We celebrate. We count our blessings. And we also notice the absences. We also carry the people we’ve lost. We also hurt.

    This song doesn’t offer easy answers or false comfort. It just says: I see the empty chair. I know it hurts. You’re not alone in noticing what’s missing.

    And sometimes, that’s enough.

    Sometimes, being seen in our grief is its own kind of gratitude.

    “Empty Chairs” is track 13 on My Thanksgiving, dropping November 21st.

  • Thanksgiving Traffic Memories

    Thanksgiving Traffic Memories

    The Journey Is Part of the Holiday

    By Melanie Grace

    Let’s be real: Thanksgiving traffic is the worst.

    The packed highways. The weather delays. That person who absolutely should not be driving but somehow got their license anyway. The GPS rerouting you seventeen times. The gas station bathroom stops. The “Are we there yet?” energy that never quite goes away, even when you’re the one driving.

    But also? Some of my best Thanksgiving memories happened in the car.

    “Thanksgiving Traffic Memories” is that fun, relatable breather we all need. It’s the song that says, “Yeah, getting there is chaos, but it’s also kind of part of the magic.”

    I wrote this with a playful energy because I wanted to capture both the frustration and the humor of the journey. The backseat sing-alongs. The arguments about whether we should’ve left earlier. The random roadside attractions. The way time slows down when you’re stuck in traffic with the people you love (or tolerate).

    There’s something about being trapped in a car together that creates intimacy, even when you’re annoyed. You talk about things you wouldn’t otherwise talk about. You laugh at things that aren’t even funny. You make memories in the in-between moments.

    This song is a palate cleanser—a fun break in the album’s emotional journey. It acknowledges that Thanksgiving isn’t just the destination; it’s also the getting there. The hours on the road. The pit stops at Cracker Barrel. The debates about the best route. The collective relief when you finally see the exit sign.

    So next time you’re stuck in Thanksgiving traffic, crank up this song. Embrace the chaos. Make some memories.

    Because years from now, you won’t remember the traffic. You’ll remember who you were with.

    “Thanksgiving Traffic Memories” is track 5 on My Thanksgiving, available November 21st.