My latest Suno AI song. Please let me know if you like it by giving me a thumbs-up 👍 and share
Echoes, Identity, and the Courage to Create Anyway
When I first envisioned the video for Echoes of Her Lipstick, I wanted it to feel like memory itself—soft, sad, tender, a little smoky at the edges. A love that lingers, even in silence.
When I listened to the voice I imagined a man of color as the singer of the song, he became that visual—a figure mourning the woman whose lipstick he still sees in the mirror—I found myself hesitating.
Not because the story didn’t feel right.
Not because the image wasn’t beautiful.
But because of the voice inside me that whispered:
“What will they think?”
I’m a 55-year-old white woman from Arkansas. I grew up poor, in a time and place where life was often segregated—not just in neighborhoods, but in thinking. I didn’t grow up with friends of other races. I didn’t grow up seeing people who looked different from me in person and very seldom in romantic stories or music videos unless they were carefully “matched” to a certain expectation.
And yet… here I am now, creating something that didn’t follow those old expectations.
The Fear I Didn’t Want to Admit
If I’m being honest—and I always try to be—that little voice wasn’t coming from strangers. The voice in my head came from white women like me. The ones who might quietly disapprove, or unfollow, or ask behind closed doors, “Why’d she have to use that man?” And a deeper fear, the ugliest one:
Will they think I’m trying to be something I’m not?
Will they think I’m lowering my morals?
That last one stopped me cold.
Because the truth is—telling stories that reflect the full beauty of humanity isn’t lowering anything.
It’s raising the standard.
Why I Left Him in the Video
Because the story didn’t ask for a race.
The grief didn’t care about color.
And the emotion—the real, raw ache of losing someone—was human.
He belonged there because the tenderness on his face matched the emotion in the song. Because his emotions on his face moved me. (And, yes, it is an AI image). Because love is not limited by what we look like—and neither should memory be.
And then came the comment. Just a simple comment from someone who watched:
“Where have you been hiding? You have amazing taste.”
That was all I needed.
What This Means for Me Going Forward
I’m not trying to be a political voice. I’m not trying to provoke. I’m just trying to tell the truth in art—even when it’s messy. Even when it pushes me out of my comfort zone.
If that broadens my audience beyond the bubble I grew up in—good.
If it makes someone feel seen who usually isn’t—even better.
And if it rattles someone who’s never had to think about these things before? Well, maybe that’s the start of something new for them too.
So I left him in.
And I’m proud that I did.
Because this is who I am now—
A storyteller.
A late bloomer.
A lipstick dreamer with something honest to say.
Final Thought
If you ever find yourself second-guessing your creative choices because of what people might whisper—listen harder to what your heart is shouting. Mine was shouting.
“Tell the story anyway.”
💋
Lisa
Married in Arkansas
Married in Arkansas 