2007, The Park NYC. Eight to twelve hour sets behind the decks, keeping the room alive until sunrise or at least 4am. I was already carrying the weight of exile. I built my life one tune, one mix, one set, one city at a time.

I have been DJing professionally for 29 years. No family safety net. No financial support. No emotional support. No shortcuts. No help. No cheering section. No validation that being one of the few female DJs even mattered. Only a stubborn vision. Calloused hands. A worn-out spine from hauling vinyl and gear. And the belief that music would save me. And it did.

I bled for this. I broke for this. I kept going when nobody cared if I did. I turned pain into basslines, rage into rhythm, and silence into a floor that would not stop moving.

This photo reminds me that DJing and music production have always been more than music. They have been acts of storytelling, taking people on a journey when I didn’t yet have the words for my pain. I turned abandonment into rhythm and proved to myself that I would not break.

I am still here. Still creating. Still moving the floor. Now with words too. Thanks for vibing with me.

To every woman, every outsider, every black sheep who was told no, this is proof you can build an empire out of nothing and make the whole world dance.