How do you write about this?

I cry easily, maybe because I’m easily moved. But actually crying - especially in front of people - never feels easy. It makes me feel involuntarily naked and quite often embarrassed.

The first months after Frida’s birth were full of tears - wailing and sobbing. I felt so vulnerable that an emotion like embarrassment didn’t have any room. Crying was a relief - a short break from the dull pain. As weeks passed and I slowly reconnected with people outside my innermost circle, it became harder again to let myself cry. I didn’t want to tell anyone what had happened - afraid of being moved again in front of a stranger. I’m sure I missed many chances for connection and meaningful conversations, but I simply couldn’t talk about Frida.

There were still moments when sadness and tears swept over me - leaving me no choice but to tell the person in front of me about the loss of my daughter - but slowly, these moments grew rare. I learned to avoid topics of loss, grief, children, and motherhood.

When I felt the desire to write a new album, I thought I could do the same - avoid these topics. Looking back now, I can only shake my head and smile - what a cute naivety. Before Frida was born, I always relied on my ability to cry easily when writing songs. It showed me where I needed to go: if I was moved by what I had just written, I was on the right track. I used my emotions as a guide.
When the first song for Frida wanted to be made, I was scared - shitless. Something inside me knew it wouldn’t be only one song. And something else knew that I love performing just as much as writing - so the songs would want to be performed as well. Some I wrote while sobbing so hard that I couldn’t sing - thinking, no fucking way will I ever be able to sing this in front of anyone. But, as before, my emotions guided me - from one song to the next, one step at a time. I told myself I could write these songs just for Frida and myself. And maybe for Peet. And maybe for my closest friends. And maybe for some more friends. And maybe I could let people listen who already supported my music. And maybe share the songs with people who have experienced loss themselves…

Honestly, I’ve never been more afraid to publish my music than with this album. But I’ve also never cared less whether people think it’s good. What matters is that it brings comfort.

In the first days and weeks after Frida’s birth, no song, no singer, no composition, no lyric resonated with me - everything felt shallow or over the top. But after a while, there were moments when music moved me more deeply than ever before. So much comfort, and such a profound sense that loss connects all humankind. If I can offer even a tiny bit of this through the music that flows through me, I am a happy woman.