I started singing in church when I was four or five years old and fell in love with music early on. One of my first memories of performing was singing “Away in a Manger” solo in second grade at Florence Elementary in Keller, Texas. I still remember seeing that huge crowd and feeling something special.
Life changed in fifth grade when my parents divorced. I moved five times in one year, and stability became something I didn’t really know. We eventually moved to Kansas to be near family, and I stayed there until ninth grade before coming back to Texas and attending Northwest High School. I ended up living with my grandparents when another move was coming, because I couldn’t handle the instability anymore.
Music became my outlet. I played drums in middle school and would pour all my frustration into my Pearl kit. After high school, I joined the Army Reserve during my junior year and later deployed to Iraq in 2003. When I came home, life wasn’t easy. I struggled to rebuild my career and quietly battled PTSD.
That’s when music truly saved me.
I taught myself guitar, learned to read tabs, and started pouring everything I was carrying into songs. Years later, while bartending and watching other musicians perform, I made a decision: I was going to give this everything I had. My first open mic led to my first paying gig, and things have been growing ever since.
Music isn’t just what I do — it’s how I survived, how I heal, and how I connect. I’m grateful every time I step on stage, and I plan to keep playing guitar and singing as long as I’m able.