Behind Closed Doors: Why I Keep My Biggest Dreams a Secret
I have a bucket list, a lifetime moment, an event happening on Friday. It’s something I’ve been working towards since moving to Nashville, and now, just a few days away, I find myself hesitant to share much about it. I notice that the things super close to my heart, I tend to keep there. I’m less likely to share…why? Do you know what I mean? What are the things you hold most dear? Do you celebrate and light into the darkest and lightest of places?
I find I’m a wide-open book in the middle, but on the edges of pain, suffering, and pure joy, I tend to be a little less willing to share. Why do we do this? Why do we hold back on the things that touch us most deeply? Research suggests that our deepest feelings are often tied to our most vulnerable parts, and sharing them exposes us to potential judgment or misunderstanding. According to Brené Brown, vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity, and change. Yet, it’s also the space where we feel most exposed and unguarded, leading us to protect these tender spots more fiercely.
A side note: my greatest fear—singing karaoke. I’ve touched on every other fear in my life, but this one remains untouchable. I have a deep fear of singing. I’ve never considered myself musically inclined, yet I’ve been drawn to music my whole life. I particularly love witnessing the creative process. Documentaries like “We Are the World,” “The Beatles: Get Back,” and others featuring Taylor Swift, Buddy Holly, Elvis, and Johnny Cash captivate me. The documentary about Muscle Shoals is another favorite. I love knowing the heart behind the songs, how and why they were written. Music moves me and heals me in profound ways.
Living in Nashville, I paired up with the amazing singer-songwriter Joanna Barbera to write a song about my brother, who I lost in a car accident as a kid. I’ve had a few lines of a song in my mind for about ten years and wanted to see if I could get it out of my head and into the world. Taking a big deep breath of courage, I reached out to Joanna, and it turns out this is her superpower—helping others heal through songwriting and music.
I said yes, and what a ride it’s been. We wrote the song, and I’ve been astounded at what has come forward in the process. Deep healing of trauma and grief is what I was after, and what I found was a love of songwriting, a deeper knowing of myself, connection and healing with my brother, and a ton of fun.
This Friday, we will gather with a select group of musicians at Blackbird Studio to record these songs. Are you kidding me? My songs are being recorded by unbelievable artists at Blackbird! You can’t make this stuff up. I’m excited to share my song, my music, my voice as a tribute and a thank you to all those who have had the courage to share theirs with me.
Thank you, Todd Musselman, Steve Chandler, and Steve Gold, for your songs, your inspiration, and for lighting a fire in me to follow.

So, as I approach this monumental moment, I invite you to think about what you hold close to your chest. What are the things you cherish deeply but rarely share? How can we find the courage to open up about our most profound joys and sorrows? Sharing these parts of ourselves might just lead to the most extraordinary connections and transformations.
