Troublemaker: a conversation with myself

“Troublemaker” is a conversation with myself. I wrote it in the language of a relationship because that’s often what your relationship with yourself feels like: there’s affection, frustration, distance, blame, and the hope that you can find your way back to each other.

The troublemaker is the part of me that gets in my own way. The pride that makes it difficult to admit I’m wrong. The instinct to keep moving so I don’t have to sit with something uncomfortable.

That opening line carries a lot of that contradiction. There’s so much effort going into proving I don’t need something that it starts to reveal how much I do.

As the song unfolds, that distance becomes harder to maintain. This is the moment the conversation turns back on itself. You start recognising your own part in the things you’ve been fighting. That can be uncomfortable because you lose the easy explanation. You have to look at the patterns you repeat, the ways you protect your pride, and what those habits are costing you.

This brings that confrontation into the chorus. To me, it’s an invitation to face yourself, to acknowledge that you have a hand in shaping the life you’re living, including the things you’d rather blame on someone or something else. There’s a challenge in it, but there’s affection too. Calling myself a troublemaker gives me a little room to smile at how complicated I can be.

“When the chorus drops, I feel like I’m flying. There’s a sense of relief and freedom every single time I hear it; something bigger than myself. I hope other people find that feeling in it too.”TRISTAN COETZEE

This is where compassion enters that conversation. You can understand why you’ve become guarded or stubborn and still recognise when those responses are hurting you. That understanding makes it possible to take responsibility without turning the whole thing into another reason to tear yourself apart.

That’s why this line is the emotional centre of the song. It’s choosing to stay on your own side while doing the uncomfortable work of changing. I can see the mistakes, the defensiveness and the contradictions, and still believe I’m worth the effort.

The song doesn’t end with everything neatly resolved. This is probably one of its most important admissions.

turn it up and see if you find the flying bit too