What Makes Me, Me

I’m a mix of loud love and quiet resilience. I wear my heart on my sleeve and carry the weight of dreams—mine and others’. I’ve built stages from nothing, spotlighted artists most overlook, and cheered louder for underdogs than for headliners. Music isn’t just background noise in my life—it’s a purpose, a pulse, a promise to never let passion die quietly.

Last night, that passion came roaring back.

An evening with Testament wasn’t just a show—it was a resurrection. As I stood in the front row, headbanging like the chick I used to be, I remembered her. The me who didn’t second-guess her fire. The one who lived for the rush of live music, the sweat of the pit, the scream of guitars, and the healing in the noise. That girl isn’t gone—she’s still right here, just a little quieter until the right song wakes her up.

I’ve got a full blog dropping tomorrow on my night at the concert—what I saw, felt, and remembered from the barricade. But for now, just know this: that night reminded me exactly who I am.

What makes me, me, is showing up even when it hurts. It’s being there for my kids with more love than money, putting heart before profit in every show I’ve booked, and choosing to believe in people—especially the ones still chasing what sets their soul on fire. I may not have had it all figured out, but I’ve always given my all.

I’m a little worn, a little wild, but never without purpose. I am a mother, a fighter, a believer in the power of connection—and a metal soul still lit up from the front row.

Music is what makes me, me.

Until tomorrow, turn the music up and live in the moment 🤘🎶💜

Mickey