TEÓNA On the Making Of “What I Want”
How did you come up with the idea for "What I Want?"
I met a man who saw me—really saw me. He gave me room to love him with my whole mind, soul, and body, and I had never felt that kind of freedom before. But, like all fairy tales, eventually you come up for air. Life happened. Things got complicated. That’s when the mourning began—but it didn’t show up as pain. It came out as a declaration. A soul-level announcement that no matter what happened between us, I was going to let myself feel it. I was simply tired of boring love. Tired of safe, numb, quiet love that you can't feel in your body. I needed this one to live loud.
Were there any challenges or breakthrough moments during the songwriting process for "What I Want?"
Absolutely. The hardest part was not editing myself. I had to write from the truth, not from what would make me look strong or healed or “above it.” The breakthrough came when I realized I wasn’t trying to teach a lesson—I was documenting a moment. And the moment was messy, hot, human, and real.
Were there any memorable or standout moments during the recording sessions for "What I Want?"
Yes—and it was hilarious and kind of magical. My team is made up of some incredible guys who’ve survived a lot—men who came up in the hood and use music as their therapy. Now picture me—girlie, soft, sensual—stepping up to the mic. My engineer that day, Swavo, a tatted-up rapper, high as hell, not expecting anything from this track. But the moment he heard it, he stopped and said, “Wait a minute...” Then I watched some of the toughest dudes walking around the studio singing this disco-soul record like it was their anthem. That’s when I knew: this is the vibe I needed it to be.
How did you first become interested in music, and when did you start playing your instrument or singing?
My father was a musician—he could play almost anything. I always admired his ear. Me, though? I was a writer first. I won poetry and writing contests in school. But when I had my son at 19, I realized I needed a creative way to process my pain and everything I was carrying. That’s when I started writing music. My dad started teaching me guitar, and I’d already grown up playing piano—he made me play, honestly. But now I’m grateful. It gave me language for emotions I didn’t know how to say out loud.
Do you aim to convey any specific themes or messages through your music?
I think humans are obsessed with needing to understand everything—always trying to find the lesson, feed the ego, explain the why. But where I’m at in my life right now? I don’t care about the why. I just want to live. If that means diving into a passionate love that someone else might call “toxic,” so be it. I’m not here to be perfect or preachy. I’m here to feel. I’m not trying to convince anyone of anything, but I do want people who live like that—who love like that—to feel seen.
