Aya Winter
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Born
in Canada
February 27
Website
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Taylor Jenkins Reid, Rina Kent, Sarah J Maas,
Member Since
March 2025
URL
https://www.goodreads.com/ayawinterromances
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“People always assumed I was fearless. Unstoppable. Destined for this.
But the truth?
I was a fake-it-’til-you-make-it girl.
I just did the damn thing with shaking hands, a stomach full of nerves, and a head full of chaos.
I had guts. I had grit.
But I had to push myself—off the ledge. Onto the stage. Through the fear.
Down the metaphorical fire escape and into the spotlight.
Impostor syndrome had followed me like a shadow for years.
I wasn’t a rock star. I was a girl with classical training, a good voice, who felt things deeply and had a hell of a lot of luck on the way.
So how the hell did I end up here?
I wasn’t born for this.
But every time I stepped out there—I proved myself wrong.
And proved everyone else wrong, too.”
― Through the Glory and the Mess: Music. Fame. Power. Trauma. And a love that refuses to die quietly.
But the truth?
I was a fake-it-’til-you-make-it girl.
I just did the damn thing with shaking hands, a stomach full of nerves, and a head full of chaos.
I had guts. I had grit.
But I had to push myself—off the ledge. Onto the stage. Through the fear.
Down the metaphorical fire escape and into the spotlight.
Impostor syndrome had followed me like a shadow for years.
I wasn’t a rock star. I was a girl with classical training, a good voice, who felt things deeply and had a hell of a lot of luck on the way.
So how the hell did I end up here?
I wasn’t born for this.
But every time I stepped out there—I proved myself wrong.
And proved everyone else wrong, too.”
― Through the Glory and the Mess: Music. Fame. Power. Trauma. And a love that refuses to die quietly.
“We burned at the same frequency.
Made of the same fire.”
― Through the Glory and the Mess: Music. Fame. Power. Trauma. And a love that refuses to die quietly.
― Through the Glory and the Mess: Music. Fame. Power. Trauma. And a love that refuses to die quietly.
“You once told me music saved you more times than you can count. And you wanted to share that with as many people as you could. And you’ve done it—even when it cost you everything. Even when it hurt. Even when it bled. You’ve taken hit after hit to stay true to that calling, because that’s who you are.”
― Through the Glory and the Mess: Music. Fame. Power. Trauma. And a love that refuses to die quietly.
― Through the Glory and the Mess: Music. Fame. Power. Trauma. And a love that refuses to die quietly.
“You once told me music saved you more times than you can count. And you wanted to share that with as many people as you could. And you’ve done it—even when it cost you everything. Even when it hurt. Even when it bled. You’ve taken hit after hit to stay true to that calling, because that’s who you are.”
― Through the Glory and the Mess: Music. Fame. Power. Trauma. And a love that refuses to die quietly.
― Through the Glory and the Mess: Music. Fame. Power. Trauma. And a love that refuses to die quietly.
“We burned at the same frequency.
Made of the same fire.”
― Through the Glory and the Mess: Music. Fame. Power. Trauma. And a love that refuses to die quietly.
― Through the Glory and the Mess: Music. Fame. Power. Trauma. And a love that refuses to die quietly.
“People always assumed I was fearless. Unstoppable. Destined for this.
But the truth?
I was a fake-it-’til-you-make-it girl.
I just did the damn thing with shaking hands, a stomach full of nerves, and a head full of chaos.
I had guts. I had grit.
But I had to push myself—off the ledge. Onto the stage. Through the fear.
Down the metaphorical fire escape and into the spotlight.
Impostor syndrome had followed me like a shadow for years.
I wasn’t a rock star. I was a girl with classical training, a good voice, who felt things deeply and had a hell of a lot of luck on the way.
So how the hell did I end up here?
I wasn’t born for this.
But every time I stepped out there—I proved myself wrong.
And proved everyone else wrong, too.”
― Through the Glory and the Mess: Music. Fame. Power. Trauma. And a love that refuses to die quietly.
But the truth?
I was a fake-it-’til-you-make-it girl.
I just did the damn thing with shaking hands, a stomach full of nerves, and a head full of chaos.
I had guts. I had grit.
But I had to push myself—off the ledge. Onto the stage. Through the fear.
Down the metaphorical fire escape and into the spotlight.
Impostor syndrome had followed me like a shadow for years.
I wasn’t a rock star. I was a girl with classical training, a good voice, who felt things deeply and had a hell of a lot of luck on the way.
So how the hell did I end up here?
I wasn’t born for this.
But every time I stepped out there—I proved myself wrong.
And proved everyone else wrong, too.”
― Through the Glory and the Mess: Music. Fame. Power. Trauma. And a love that refuses to die quietly.
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