The Story

I thought being fireproof was a good thing.

For years, I believed strength meant being able to handle anything.

Work harder. Give more. Hold everything together. Keep going, no matter what it cost me.

I built a life around being the capable one, the productive one, the one everyone could count on. Somewhere along the way, I began to believe that if I could just do enough for everyone else, eventually I would feel like enough.

Instead, I burned out.

For a long time, I could not understand what had happened. It felt like I had lost access to the version of myself I had always known.

Being diagnosed with AuDHD at 43 did not change who I was. It gave me language for who I had always been, and helped me understand why I had spent so much of my life trying to push past my own limits.

“Fireproof” was the first song I wrote after that.

It is not really a song about burnout. It is about the belief that led me there. The belief that my worth depended on how much I could accomplish, how much I could carry, and how much of myself I could give away.

I used to think being fireproof meant I was strong.

Now I know real strength is recognizing that I was never supposed to survive the fire untouched.

And if you have spent your life trying to earn love by being useful, being strong, or being everything to everyone else, I hope this song reminds you:

You do not have to burn yourself down to the ground to be loved.