Holy Beginnings
From Hiding in Choir Robes to Headlining: The Full Story
Right, let's have it then. The proper truth about where all this started.
I owe everything to that place. The church that had me from age 7 to 18. But not for the reasons you'd think.
Yeah, the faith thing happened, but what I'm on about is something else entirely. It gave me permission to believe in creative power. To trust that ideas come when they're meant to.
Mad as it sounds, I genuinely believe creativity flows from somewhere bigger. We're just antennas, right? Constantly tuning ourselves to receive the signal and make it real. Sounds well woo-woo, but for us creatives… you get it.
The Absolute Terror of It
Beyond that faith in creativity (and eventually myself), church gave me something else: a stage. A terrifying platform where I had to do the thing that scared me most.
Stand up there. Alone. And sing.
Look, hiding in the choir was great. Nobody except my mum noticed when I held my songbook upside down, feeling the panic as I flipped pages mid-verse. But solo? Mate. That felt like jumping off a cliff with no parachute.
What if they laugh? What if I'm shit?
At 15, being told you're rubbish would've ended me. And honestly? I was rubbish. Proper YouTube-tutorial-for-hours rubbish. Wasn't born with it. Definitely didn't pop out the womb ready to give my best drunken rendition of Wonderwall. Just me, dodgy internet connection, and my mum's encouraging words as I absolutely butchered "Fast Car" for the hundredth time.
Sorry, Mum. Your favourite song deserved better.
From Butchering to Belonging
But here's the thing, progress is progress even when it's dead slow. Each failed attempt, each tiny win. They all stacked up.
Eventually found the bottle to take that first solo slot. Then another. Before I knew it, I was expected to perform. Mental.
Which brings me to this moment I'll never forget. Playing my original song "Paris" in actual Paris! In front of Notre Dame Cathedral. One week before it burned down.
I was absolutely shitting myself, but it was absolutely worth it.
What It Actually Gave Me
That place taught me more than harmonies or how to not look terrified on stage. It showed me that creativity requires faith. Not religious faith necessarily, but faith in the process. Faith that you'll get better. Faith that the fear is worth pushing through.
Now when I'm chopping vocals at 3am or stacking harmonies till my ears bleed, I'm still that scared kid from choir. Just with better kit and the same belief that the next idea's coming if I keep the antenna tuned.
I owe everything to that place.
What scared you into becoming who you are? Drop me a comment - I read every single one.