I sing because my voice is the only place that has always felt like freedom. I was born with a cleft lip and palate, and from my earliest memories, my life was shaped by surgeries, speech therapy, and the pressure to be fixed. Speaking took effort and precision, but singing felt natural. In song, I did not need to apologize for how I sounded. My voice did not need permission to exist. It simply was.

I sing to honor the perseverance I learned from my mother, who immigrated from Mexico and built a life through courage and grace. I sing for the people who do not see themselves onstage, who feel like they do not belong in artistic spaces. I sing to be proof that there is room for voices that are different, voices that were not expected to make it this far.

I do not sing for recognition. I sing because singing reminds me that courage is louder than doubt. Every time I step on stage, I sing for the girls who have been told they are too much or not enough. I sing to remind them, and myself, that we are.