The Story Behind My Original Compositions (And What They Mean to Me)

I don’t usually sit down to “write a song.” I sit down because something in my heart feels too heavy, too uncertain, or too quiet to explain out loud. Music has always been how I process love, loss, doubt, healing and sometimes even joy.

These are the stories behind a few of my original songs, and what they mean to me.

下雨天想你 (Miss You In the Rain)

I wrote this song for my late grandfather.

He loved the hymn Amazing Grace. That song meant so much to him and it is also where my name came from. In many ways, music connects us across time.

When I wrote Miss You In the Rain, I was thinking about how grief doesn’t disappear. It lingers softly, like rain. Some days it’s light. Some days it pours. But it is always tied to love.

This piece is my way of saying: I still think of you. I still carry you with me.

親愛的你 (Dear You)

I wrote Dear You during a relationship that looked stable from the outside but felt uncertain on the inside.

I started sensing that something between us was shifting. Even though we had been together for years, it was the first time I felt distance growing. Still, I was hopeful.

The lyrics say we will walk closer to each other every day.

That was my heart speaking, wanting connection, choosing optimism, believing we could return to what we once had. Writing it was my way of holding onto hope.

鏡中影 (Mirror)

I wrote Mirror while recovering from that relationship.

Interestingly, I composed it a year before releasing it. At the time, I was not fully ready to let go. I wrote it while I was in Taiwan, but I completed it right before leaving my ex’s home and starting a new chapter of my life.

This song represents reflection, both literally and emotionally.

When I looked into the mirror, I did not fully recognize myself anymore. I had to rediscover who I was outside of that relationship.

Mirror is not just about heartbreak. It is about finding yourself again.

Looking back, each song marks a chapter of my life:

Grief and remembrance Hope inside uncertainty Loss and insecurity Reflection and rediscovery Joy and community

Living in New York now, I still carry these stories with me. The city is loud and fast, but my music remains a place where emotions can unfold slowly.

If you have ever listened to one of these songs and felt understood, whether you were missing someone, holding onto hope, healing or celebrating, then I am grateful.

Because that is why I write.

To turn feelings into sound. And to remind you that you are never alone in them.