Kennedy Ryon’s Healing Soundtrack: Finding Voice Through Pain, Power, and Purpose

Kennedy Ryon’s journey into the music industry isn’t one shaped by convenience or tradition. Instead, it’s a story of resilience, silenced expression, and a rediscovery of voice that resonates in every note she sings. In her revealing conversation with Nyla Symone on the podcast We Need to Talk, Kennedy peeled back the layers of trauma and transformation that led her to a budding career marked by raw honesty and undeniable talent.

Growing up in an environment where she was actively discouraged from singing, Ryon found herself muted at home—told explicitly to be quiet whenever she tried to express herself through music. For years, her Yamaha keyboard sat idle, a symbol of what could have been. But despite those limitations, music remained embedded in her spirit. She recounted how her earliest musical memories were shaped by singing to hospital patients during her time working in intensive care, subtly planting the seeds of her future artistry.

The Seven-Year Silence

At the heart of Ryon’s creative backstory lies a seven-year relationship that she now identifies as deeply unhealthy. During that time, music was not just deprioritized—it was erased. She wasn’t writing, recording, or even listening to music. “Even in that seven years, I didn’t have downloads of music,” she said. “It was just on the back burner—it didn’t exist.”

The turning point came in early 2020, when Ryon described waking up one morning with sudden clarity. “I don’t deserve this anymore,” she recalled. “This is actually quite exhausting.” That awakening didn’t immediately liberate her from the relationship, but it began a gradual unraveling of emotional dependence and creative suppression. It was a spiritual alignment—mind, body, and soul—that redirected her path.

'Ego': A Mirror and a Milestone

Her breakthrough single “Ego” became a sonic memoir of that transition. In it, Ryon explores the complex dynamic of staying in relationships out of ego-driven hope rather than reality. “I was more attracted to someone’s potential than their actual capacity,” she explained. The lyrics confront the trap of trying to mold oneself into the ideal partner—changing the way she laughed, dressed, or spoke—all in the futile pursuit of love.

The song’s emotional weight didn’t just come from the content—it came from the process. Writing “Ego” forced Ryon to examine her role in her own suffering. “Outside of not having self-worth or belief in myself, the root was just ego,” she admitted. In recognizing that, she was able to turn pain into power.

‘Baby Mama Drama’: A Self-Directed Diss Track

Another standout record, “Baby Mama Drama,” has often been misunderstood. On the surface, some listeners interpret it as a song about rivalry or chaos. But for Ryon, it’s a pointed reflection of her lowest emotional state. “I’m really writing a diss to myself,” she said. “For not having enough confidence, not standing up for myself, and putting up with the bare minimum.”

She vividly described studio sessions where recording the track brought her to tears. Recalling those moments means reliving the time when the bar for how she deserved to be treated “was literally in hell.” Yet, in revisiting that pain, she found catharsis—and connection. “People be laughing, crying, screaming it. Even for the women, it’s like the person that messed them over is in the room,” she said. That energy makes live performances of “Baby Mama Drama” some of her most fulfilling, even if she can’t always bring herself to re-listen to the track.

Healing in the Writing

Ryon’s songwriting is as much about processing as it is about performing. Each song becomes a journal entry—a way to leave behind what no longer serves her. “I poured everything into the music,” she told Symone. “There were definitely studio sessions where I was crying and couldn’t get through the songs.” But that vulnerability was key. She came to see the work as bigger than herself, saying, “It’s not about me honestly... it’s about what it gives to the people who hear it.”

The duality between Kennedy the person and Kennedy Ryon the artist is something she’s learning to manage. Remaining grounded and humble is important to her, even as her star rises. “I’m trying to find balance,” she said. “To not get caught up in Kennedy Ryon 24/7.”

Self-Taught and Soul-Fed

Kennedy Ryon’s vocal ability is both a gift and a product of grit. She’s never had formal vocal coaching, but studied the greats—Michael Jackson, Prince, Destiny’s Child, and above all, Beyoncé. “I studied Beyoncé like crazy,” she said. “I watched how she annunciates, uses her diaphragm—just listening and practicing over and over.”

She also taught herself to play piano and dabbled in guitar, picking things up by ear and using “YouTube University” as her conservatory. Her artistic origins, however, began in dance. It wasn’t until her family moved away from access to dance programs that she began to lean more seriously into music. “I didn’t hear my voice the way my family did,” she admitted, referencing early comments from relatives telling her to stop singing so much. That sense of not being taken seriously turned out to be temporary. As she developed her voice—literally and artistically—she grew into her potential.

The Stage, The Fans, and The Surreal

For an artist so attuned to emotional undercurrents, stepping onto stage is an exercise in presence and release. Performing songs like “Band” or “Baby Mama Drama” brings the energy full circle. “People chanting my name? I’ve never had that happen,” she said, her tone a mix of humility and disbelief. “It’s still surreal.”

She remains highly critical of her recorded work—often avoiding playback to dodge perfectionist tendencies. But the live experience offers something recordings can’t: the visible, visceral connection between her and the audience. “It’s wild to see women just screaming it from their chest,” she said. “It reminds me that it’s not about me. The music lives outside of me now.”

What’s Next for Kennedy Ryon?

With several well-received singles under her belt, Ryon confirmed that a larger project is in the works. While she wouldn’t reveal much about what’s coming post-tour, she hinted that new music is “definitely on the way.”

Until then, her current discography continues to gain traction. “My mom plays it. My boss plays it. My friends play it,” Symone noted during the interview. The response has been overwhelmingly supportive—from sold-out shows to social media praise, Kennedy Ryon’s time feels like it’s arriving right on cue.

Still, the rising singer remains grounded. “I’ve tried everything—medical jobs, selling furniture—but music is the only thing God keeps steering me back to,” she said. For Ryon, there’s no Plan B. Music isn’t just the goal; it’s the foundation. When asked what she wants her legacy to be, Kennedy’s answer was simple: “The music.” She wants her songs to outlast her, to serve as proof of growth, reflection, and healing. “I want my legacy to be the music because it’s going to stand the test of time longer than I will,” she said.

Though early in her career, Kennedy Ryon already understands the power of storytelling through sound. Her records may stem from personal pain, but the resonance is collective. Her voice isn’t just something she reclaimed—it’s something she now uses to empower others, one brutally honest track at a time.