The Ava Bently Backstory: The Why Behind my Music
I’ve been singing for as long as I can remember. My family still laughs about how, at just two and a half years old—barely able to form full sentences—I could belt out every word of Thank God I’m a Country Boy by John Denver. Music was my first language. I wrote little songs, performed for my family, and carried that love of singing through grade school, middle school, and high school.
The first time I performed in front of a real crowd, I was terrified… and instantly hooked. Music felt like home. Even when life pulled me away from it, I always found my way back—writing, humming, singing in the car, letting melodies fill the spaces between responsibilities.
As a single mother, survival came first. My daughter needed me, and my career demanded everything I had. Music became something I squeezed in when I could, a quiet companion I never fully let go of.
Then in 2017, everything changed. After years of speaking for work and singing whenever I had the chance, my voice started to fail me. I went to the doctor expecting a simple fix. Instead, I learned I had throat nodules that needed to be removed. I was warned about the risks, but I never imagined what would come next.
A medical error during surgery permanently damaged my vocal cords. I woke up to a silence I never asked for.
I was mute for six months. Six months of not being able to speak to my daughter, not being able to sing even a single note.
Two additional surgeries—thanks to the incredible team at the Voice Health Institute of Boston—helped me regain my ability to speak. That alone felt like a miracle. But the truth was devastating: the cuts on my vocal cords meant I would never sing the way I once had. The dream I’d carried since childhood suddenly felt out of reach.
I grieved that loss quietly. And then life threw me another curveball.
A rare heart condition forced me to leave my career and undergo major heart surgery. Recovery was long, painful, and full of uncertainty. I didn’t know who I was without my work. I didn’t know what came next.
To pass the time, I started writing again—lyrics, melodies, little stories. I experimented with AI music tools, just for fun at first. Then something unexpected happened: I heard my words come to life again. Not in the voice I lost, but in a voice that carried my spirit, my emotion, my stories.
AI didn’t replace my voice. It gave me a way to have one again.
I began creating songs for friends—birthday songs, love songs, and personal stories turned into music. And then one day, I started writing from my own heart again. I shared the songs with a longtime friend who was exploring similar creative paths, and from that collaboration, Ava Bently was born.
Ava is more than a project. She is the doorway back to the part of me I thought I lost forever.
Technology opened the possibility for me to return to what I’ve loved since I was a little girl, standing in the living room singing John Denver. It gave me a way to share my music with the world, to be heard, to create, to express, to heal.
My voice may never be what it once was. But my music is alive again. And now, I get to share it—with all of you.