You know I was just on a reality singing competition show wearing these high heels with curly
hair and a red top with a red flower on it.
It just wasn't me.
I allowed myself to believe I didn't know best and allowed everyone to tell me what I should do.
And that's when everything changed 'cause my therapist was like, "It's so interesting
that you're a singer and you have this voice but in your real life you have no voice."
And I remember what she told me and I was like, "You're right!"
And I was like, "No more!"
I had this, kind of this nightmare turned into a victorious dream.
I was reenacting things that happened in my childhood but then I would flip the script
in my dream.
So, I was getting hit and there was someone watching me get hit.
The abuser and I were in the spotlight.
The observer was on the side.
And I was getting hit, I looked up at the observer like, "We have to do something.
This isn't right."
And then observer said what I had heard my whole life.
"Don't say anything.
You're going to make things worse if you say anything.
So just let it happen and then you'll be okay in a little bit."
And I looked at her and I was like, "I can't keep quiet."
My sister and I would joke before we would go out.
We're like, "Oh, time to put on our face!"
It's kind of this joke but there's also this underlying pain behind it.
You know, in my childhood, in a traditional immigrant childhood, it was like we had to
put on a face.
Not my face but a face that was acceptable convenience to everyone else.
I found myself in high school. Like, if someone would talk to me and they would say something
really uncomfortable, I would not know how to defend myself.
So I'd just smile or laugh it off.
And it took me about, you know, just 10 years to figure out how to speak up.
"No one knows me, no one ever will."
The scariest part is when we don't know ourselves.
I followed my father's dream.
He wanted me to be a doctor so I studied pre-med.
Meanwhile, I was suppressing my music.
I've been writing songs since I was 7.
I knew I was going to do music at that time 'cause I'd decided I'm going to follow this
but even in the interviews, I was like, "I don't know who I am.
I spent all this time being what everyone else wants, that I just literally don't know who I am."
Tapping into the story of being a sexual abuse survivor and just taking it, you know?
And just...
I think survivors of any different form of abuse or sexual abuse or what not are
just being oppressed.
We either deal with it, we either speak out or we let that ball of energy just break us down.
It's really interesting because I feel like when people are oppressed in any different
form, even though the oppressor is the monster - the victims who become survivors, hopefully,
the survivors take on the burden.
For me, I thought it was my fault for really long time.
"Oh, I deserved it.
I asked for it.
I dressed a certain way.
I acted a certain way."
You know?
"I'm the monster."
The song builds from this whisper and then it becomes something bigger in the chorus.
"I can't keep quiet."
That’s how I felt as woman.
"Dry blue pill" can be people taking whatever types of medication or drugs to numb themselves.
But the other thing, which is my favorite, is I'm a huge nerd for 'The Matrix.'
The blue pill is that numbing pill where you just stay in this robotic world and just ignore
all the problems.
And the red pill is like you go down the rabbit hole.
You learn about the world's issues.
You try to fight even though it's a harder fight.
I changed my life during therapy.
I decided I'm going to make amazing friends.
I set my intentions to spend time to give and help people with their lives and
then I developed this amazing circle of girlfriends.
And then I also met the love of my life and he's such a great support and he understands.