Jessy Yasmeen, you surely brought me back to the middle, to the back, to the end.

The back

The Spanish guitar, Jessy’s sultry voice, her laidback delivery. This song sparked something familiar. Like a glowing memory, spilling over you in a thousand tiny rays of sunlight.

It reminded me of this song by Leki, specifically. And how in the early 2000s, I made her a fan website. How I learned to Photoshop and slice pictures and code iframes. How I live-chatted with her during her Studio Brussel radio segments and emailed her manager. Then got backstage passes, taping invites, and a thank-you in the booklet of her second album.

It was all so exciting. Yet so, inevitable.

Life was simple then.

The middle

I dreamed of interning at Teen Vogue, like every other girl watching The Hills. I wrote to all the magazines, blogs and creatives I looked up to. I secured an internship in LA. Then declined it, realizing that between visas and money, I had neither.

Like Jessy, I got a lot of no’s, but held on to whichever yes I could get.

The end

I miss the girl who dreamt big and backflipped over obstacles. The no fucks given mini-me who executed ideas with unflinching belief. Who thought all it took to get places was a website, a few emails, and enough optimism.

It’s hard to create in a world full of creators. Fast-paced. AI-driven. Content-overloaded.

To constantly wonder: “What do I even have to add?”

But what is life if we don’t decorate it with pieces of ourselves along the way? Our words, our art, our ideas, our feelings, our excitement.

To soothe our own souls, and maybe even touch someone else’s.

Perhaps I am getting closer to the end. The part where Jessy sings:
“Yet in the silence, she heard the spirit call. Whispering to chaos, reminding her to stand tall.”

Back to the middle. To the back. To the end.