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You might think that passing my ATCL diploma was the grand finale of my music story. In a way, it was — it closed the chapter on the piano that my family had written.

But it unexpectedly opened a door to the music I was meant to find for myself.

This final part of my story is about the joy of discovering my own musical path, away from the spotlight and the syllabus.

The Instrument That Chose Me

The real turning point came when my high school gave all students with a music background the opportunity to learn new instruments.

Without hesitation, I signed up for both the violin and the cello.

While the violin was interesting, it was the cello that spoke to me. I fell in love with its rich, soulful voice and the tangible vibration right through my fingertips.

For the first time, I was eager to practise, and my improvement was faster than the average learners. It only took me 2 years of learning before considering taking another ABRSM exam.

I became so dedicated that I set my sights on ABRSM Grade 7 — this time, it wasn’t for piano but for an instrument I genuinely loved. It was a goal I was truly excited about.

Finding My Place in the Orchestra

It wasn’t long before I was invited to join the school’s Symphonia. (This was at Epsom Girls’ Grammar in Auckland, by the way.)

Sitting with my cello among the other musicians, the fear of being judged on my own began to fade. As part of an ensemble, the pressure was shared, and together we were creating something beautiful.

I was no longer under the spotlight, alone.

Of all my cherished school performance memories, the most unforgettable was our concert at the Sydney Opera House.

I remember the incredible acoustics of the concert hall — how every note we played sounded clearer and richer than ever before.

I remember the collective focus as we waited for our cue, the shared dedication on every face.

And I remember the swell of pride as our music finally filled that magnificent space, feeling completely united in that single, perfect moment.

I didn’t know it then, but that experience planted a seed. Years later, when I decided to move to Sydney, I think I left a piece of my heart in Sydney that day. (That’s a story for another post)

It became clear that string instruments might have been more suited to me. However, I was never exposed to any instruments other than the piano in my early days.

Perhaps if I had pursued the cello from a young age, my musical journey would have unfolded differently.

Composition Turned Out To Be My Real Talent

Around the same time, a music teacher at my school — who was also a well-known New Zealand composer at the time — took an interest in my work.

For a school project I hadn’t devoted much attention to, he gave me a perfect 10/10.

Whether he was just being encouraging or genuinely saw something, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that his belief gave me the confidence to apply for a discretionary entrance to study Music Composition at the University of Auckland.

To my surprise, I was accepted!

During my three years at the university, I watched many fellow students in the Composition and Performance majors quietly transferred to Music Theory, which was often a subtle way of phasing them out.

I never understood why I wasn’t one of them, especially since I was never a straight-A student.

It was only with time that I realised it came down to my unique music writing style. Having lived through a broken family and a rebellious teenage phase, I poured all of my raw emotions into my music.

Some of my teachers admired my unconventional creations, while others disapproved. But it was that distinct voice that allowed me to graduate with a Bachelor of Music.

With that degree in hand, I finally felt ready to say a final farewell to music.

Another Dream I Had

Like a billion other teenagers, I was also obsessed with pop music around the same period at university.

In my bedroom, I was a pop star in the making, singing along to all the hits. I desperately wanted it to be more than just a silly hobby, so I worked up the courage and found myself a voice teacher.

I remember my first lesson so clearly. I brought in a Christina Aguilera CD, my heart full of hope, and told her I wanted to sing with that kind of power.

She sighed, and told me that the goal was out of reach. She explained Asians were physically built differently — that our “thin vocal cords” simply couldn’t produce a big, powerful sound like that.

Like, what? My dream had just been cancelled by bad anatomy?

Shortly after, a wave of incredibly talented Asian singers broke onto the global scene, famous for their vocal power.

It turned out that my singing teacher was classically trained as a female opera singer, and had very limited belief. It wasn’t that Asians were physically different, but rather, she wasn’t the right fit for me.

Sure, I may not be the next Christina Aguilera, but I never even got the chance to really try.

Last Notes

Looking back, my musical journey was never a straight line. It was a series of doors opening and closing.

I went from a child pianist driven by fear, to a cellist who found joy in an orchestra, and a composer who learned to speak through my own music.

Each phase taught me something different, and sometimes, one wrong opinion is all it takes to close a door forever.

If my story has shown you anything, I hope it’s this:

Don’t give up because of one person’s “no,” or one difficult path. Keep exploring. Keep listening to that quiet pull toward what you love.

– Kida

I hope my journey helps you recognise your own talents and find the courage to follow them. Your path is out there — don’t let it pass you by.

Thank you for reading all three parts of my musical journey. 💕

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