Review by Rebecca Clark
There’s something incredibly validating about hearing an artist put words to an experience you’ve lived yourself. Avora Veil does exactly that with “The Monster I Am,” capturing the anger, hurt, and emotional chaos of betrayal in a way that felt instantly familiar.
It’s been almost three years since my own relationship ended, and while I don’t spend my days dwelling on it, healing doesn’t mean every trace of the experience simply disappears. Every now and then, you hear a song that articulates something you went through so perfectly that it brings some of that emotional residue back to the surface. Not necessarily in a bad way, but in a finally, someone gets it kind of way.
Sometimes people don’t understand the bitterness that can come with betrayal. They see the anger, but not always the hurt underneath it or how completely losing yourself in that pain can change you. Then a song comes along and somehow puts words to all of it. There’s something strangely comforting about feeling understood, even by a song. It makes you feel a little less alone in those feelings and, in a way, a little less bitter about them, too.
That’s exactly what “The Monster I Am” did for me. There is something incredibly raw about the way this song captures what betrayal can do to a person. Not just the sadness, but the anger. The confusion. The feeling of looking at yourself and wondering who the hell you have become.
“I’m looking at a face / but it’s not looking back at me / I don’t know myself / I am someone else.”
That immediately struck me because there is a strange truth in it. When you’re deeply hurt, especially by someone you trusted, you can become consumed by the anger and resentment. You know you’re not normally that person, but suddenly that side of you is running the show. You look in the mirror and realize you’ve become a hollow shell of yourself.
That is where the title becomes so effective. “The Monster I Am” isn’t really about being a monster. It’s about feeling like one.
The song doesn’t shy away from the uglier side of heartbreak, either. “You should be scared of me / the way that I am scared of myself” captures that feeling of being overwhelmed by your own thoughts and emotions. When you’re in that place, it can genuinely feel like you’re losing your grip. The anger becomes its own beast, and you don’t necessarily know how to tame it.
And then there is the betrayal woven through the entire song. “You stole my innocence,” “left me alone in this mess,” and “broken trust made enemies out of you and me” all speak to the aftermath of having someone you trusted fundamentally change the way you see them and maybe even yourself.
But the part that really got me is the bridge. “I’ve been drowning / inside your madness / Lost inside this beast you made / The only way that I can save me / is to live my life…without you!”
Vocally, this is such a powerful moment. There is an almost serene quality to her voice through the beginning of the bridge, like she has stepped outside of all the chaos for just a moment. Then she reaches that final “without you!” and it feels like a release. Not just sadness or anger, but the realization that she finally has a way out.
It gives me chills every time.
That shift in her voice mirrors the shift happening within the lyrics. For most of the song, she’s trapped inside the anger and destruction, but suddenly there is clarity. The answer isn’t getting revenge, getting an apology, or waiting for the other person to fix what they broke. It’s letting go and choosing to live your life without them.
And honestly, that moment feels like a breath of freedom.
There is sadness in that realization, but there is also something incredibly liberating about it. There comes a point in healing where you understand that moving forward means accepting that your life no longer includes that person and choosing to build something beyond the wreckage.
The song also brings together some notable creative talent, including co-writer Scott Stevens, an accomplished songwriter, producer, and singer. Stevens was actually the person who first put Avora Veil on my radar, having told me about her and the work they had been doing together. After hearing “The Monster I Am,” it’s clear why he saw something worth investing in. There is a depth and emotional honesty to the song that makes Avora Veil an artist worth keeping an eye on, and this collaboration feels like a strong introduction to what she is capable of.
For me, that’s what makes “The Monster I Am” hit so hard. It understands that healing isn’t always pretty. Sometimes you have to acknowledge the anger, the hurt, and the version of yourself that existed in the middle of it before you can start finding your way back to yourself.
And eventually, that light switch does flip. You start focusing on your own life again. You start rebuilding. You realize that the person who hurt you doesn’t get to define who you become.
“The Monster I Am” puts that entire emotional journey into a song that feels heavy, honest, and full of heart. The lyrics hit the nail on the head, but it’s the way Avora Veil captures the transformation from hurt, to anger, to feeling lost, and finally toward reclaiming yourself that makes this one resonate so deeply.
Sometimes the monster isn’t who you really are. Sometimes it’s who you become while trying to survive what someone else did to you.