I honestly don’t even know how to begin this. Yesterday I woke up like any other day, got ready for work, and—out of habit—checked my channel notifications before leaving the house. But this time... something happened. Something I never imagined I'd experience.
My "In The End" cover hit almost 12,000 views in under 48 hours.
Yes. Twelve. Thousand.
And with it came an overwhelming wave of love, support, and heartfelt messages. So many people telling me how moved they felt, how the music touched their hearts.
I tried to fix my makeup, but failed miserably. I showed up to work with smudged eyeliner and teary eyes. And honestly? It lasted all day. But for the most beautiful reason.
Some of you already know this, but many who are new here might not… Late last year, I lost one of the most important people in my life: my grandfather — or, as I called him lovingly, "Daddy". He was my rock, my comfort, my gaming buddy. Since he passed, everything has felt different. Walking into his house now hurts. The TV turned off, the console unplugged... it feels like time froze in that silence.
This channel started as a distraction — maybe even a way to run from reality — but somehow, it became my safe place. And then, with each of you arriving, message by message, it turned into something much bigger than I could ever imagine. A new home. A place where I can breathe again.
And so, inspired by all of you, I want to share this Open Letter — not only to myself, but to everyone who’s walked this path with me:
An Open Letter to Those Who Follow Me!
Some pain cannot be explained.
It is felt. Endured. Carried — in silence.
But even without words, it shapes us. And after a long, hard journey, I finally feel ready — and willing — to share a part of it with you.
For years, I lived in places that drained me — my energy, my faith in people, my sense of self.
Places where kindness was mistaken for weakness, and respect was lost in the noise of pride.
I smiled on the outside, but inside… I was drowning — just like the dream I had recently: my home, flooded from a forgotten faucet.
I woke up with a heavy heart, and I knew…
That was my soul saying, “You’ve overflowed.”
Overflowed with silence, exhaustion, with everything I swallowed to keep moving.
I chose to rise.
Today, I write from a different place.
A place where I’m heard.
Where I’m seen.
Where I’m loved.
Where I can breathe, be myself, and create without fear.
Where the wounds still exist — but they no longer bleed. They became art.
Art that you welcomed.
Art that touches. That heals. That connects.
Yes, I still carry scars. Some deeper than others.
But now, each one reminds me of the strength I found when everything else fell apart.
I turn pain into music. Silence into expression.
And every time someone tells me they felt seen or comforted through something I created, I remember:
It was worth not giving up on myself.
If you’ve ever felt like you were drowning inside — suffocated by a pain you couldn’t name…
I see you.
And I want you to know:
There is life after pain.
There is real love.
There is peace.
Thank you, Sweetlings.
You’re not just part of my story.
You are the reason it keeps being written.
Ayla - Chan
Sweetlings...
I honestly don’t even know how to begin this. Yesterday I woke up like any other day, got ready for work, and—out of habit—checked my channel notifications before leaving the house. But this time... something happened. Something I never imagined I'd experience.
My "In The End" cover hit almost 12,000 views in under 48 hours.
Yes. Twelve. Thousand.
And with it came an overwhelming wave of love, support, and heartfelt messages. So many people telling me how moved they felt, how the music touched their hearts.
I tried to fix my makeup, but failed miserably. I showed up to work with smudged eyeliner and teary eyes. And honestly? It lasted all day. But for the most beautiful reason.
Some of you already know this, but many who are new here might not… Late last year, I lost one of the most important people in my life: my grandfather — or, as I called him lovingly, "Daddy". He was my rock, my comfort, my gaming buddy. Since he passed, everything has felt different. Walking into his house now hurts. The TV turned off, the console unplugged... it feels like time froze in that silence.
This channel started as a distraction — maybe even a way to run from reality — but somehow, it became my safe place. And then, with each of you arriving, message by message, it turned into something much bigger than I could ever imagine. A new home. A place where I can breathe again.
And so, inspired by all of you, I want to share this Open Letter — not only to myself, but to everyone who’s walked this path with me:
An Open Letter to Those Who Follow Me!
Some pain cannot be explained.
It is felt. Endured. Carried — in silence.
But even without words, it shapes us. And after a long, hard journey, I finally feel ready — and willing — to share a part of it with you.
For years, I lived in places that drained me — my energy, my faith in people, my sense of self.
Places where kindness was mistaken for weakness, and respect was lost in the noise of pride.
I smiled on the outside, but inside… I was drowning — just like the dream I had recently: my home, flooded from a forgotten faucet.
I woke up with a heavy heart, and I knew…
That was my soul saying, “You’ve overflowed.”
Overflowed with silence, exhaustion, with everything I swallowed to keep moving.
I chose to rise.
Today, I write from a different place.
A place where I’m heard.
Where I’m seen.
Where I’m loved.
Where I can breathe, be myself, and create without fear.
Where the wounds still exist — but they no longer bleed. They became art.
Art that you welcomed.
Art that touches. That heals. That connects.
Yes, I still carry scars. Some deeper than others.
But now, each one reminds me of the strength I found when everything else fell apart.
I turn pain into music. Silence into expression.
And every time someone tells me they felt seen or comforted through something I created, I remember:
It was worth not giving up on myself.
If you’ve ever felt like you were drowning inside — suffocated by a pain you couldn’t name…
I see you.
And I want you to know:
There is life after pain.
There is real love.
There is peace.
Thank you, Sweetlings.
You’re not just part of my story.
You are the reason it keeps being written.
With all my love,
Ayla. 💜
4 days ago (edited) | [YT] | 602