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Buffy Lied: A Lesson From Vampires 🧛

Updated: Aug 28

 

Recently I discovered a game called Vampire Therapist.

 

And honestly? It’s ridiculous.

 

You’re a therapist. The clients? Vampires, of course.

 

Brooding, dramatic, full of angst...

 

But also... deeply insecure.

 

And that’s what cracked me up the most.

 

Because in the game, these ancient, powerful creatures aren’t suave, untouchable, or dripping with confidence — like they are in the movies (or on Buffy).

 

They’re deeply worried.

Lost.

Questioning their worth.

Wondering what it all means.

 

Even after hundreds of years, they’re still asking:

Am I good enough?

Does what I do matter?

Should I just disappear?

 

At first, I laughed...

Then I paused.

 

Because it reminded me of an incredible musician I once coached…

 

An opera singer in her 50s.

An extraordinary woman who fled a country that would’ve silenced her voice entirely.

 

She rebuilt her life.

Built a career.

Stood on stages many only dream of...

 

And still — she was ready to walk away from it all.

 

Why?

 

Self-doubt.

 

Not the kind that shows up loudly...

The quieter kind.

 

The one that whispers:

Maybe this was all a fluke.

Maybe it’s too late.

Maybe I’m not really that good.

 

Here’s the thing...


No level of talent

No number of standing ovations

No glowing reviews

can drown out those whispers.

 

Not permanently, anyway.

 

Because confidence doesn’t come from outside in.

 

It’s an inside job.

 

And once we started working together, that’s exactly where we focused.

 

Not on fixing her technique. Not on pushing harder. Not on chasing the next accolade.

 

But on unlearning the belief that she had to earn her worth over and over again.

 

That kind of shift?


It doesn’t happen overnight.


But when it does — it’s visible.

 

She performs now not because she has to prove anything.

But because she wants to.

 

With joy. With presence. With the quiet, rooted confidence of someone who knows who they are… and doesn’t need to ask permission anymore.

 

Thanks for reading this far, my dear pen pal.

 

I love sharing these odd little stories with you — cheesy games, opera singers, existential vampires and all.

 

And I don’t take you for granted, ever.

 

With warmth and music,

Gökçe 💙

How to Practice on the Days You’d Rather Not 🪫

What do you do when you’re tired, distracted, or just not feeling it? You practise showing up anyway — but you do it gently. This letter is for the musicians who don't want to avoid everything on thos

 
 

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