Heather Mae isn’t just making music—she’s making space. A genre-defying artist-activist, she blends alternative rock, indie pop, and folk storytelling to craft anthems of mental health, queer liberation, and social justice. With her double album WHAT THEY HID FROM ME and kiss & tell, she delivers both a reckoning and a reclamation, unearthing buried truths and embracing unapologetic joy. In this interview with Blackbird News, Heather Mae shares her journey, the power of representation, and how music can be a catalyst for change.
Hello Heather Mae, Welcome to Blackbird News! We are excited to have you here today. Could you tell us a bit about your journey as a musician and activist?
Thanks for having me! My journey has been one of constant evolution. I started out like any songwriter: writing songs that felt true to me but didn’t push the envelope. That stayed within the lines. After a gnarly bout of vocal nodules in my early 20s, I made a vow to the Goddess that if she gave me my voice back, I’d dedicate my life and my career to making the world a better place. I’ve kept that promise ever since.
Your double album explores themes of unlearning, self-discovery, and living unapologetically. Can you elaborate on how these themes translate into your music?
This project is about stepping into truth. WHAT THEY HID FROM ME is the reckoning—the burning down of harmful narratives, unlearning shame, and confronting deep wounds. kiss & tell is the reclamation—the joy, the freedom, the permission to take up space. Both albums are a direct reflection of my own journey of unlearning and self-acceptance, and I hope they help others on their own paths.
You have been open about your experiences with mental health, queer liberation, and survivor empowerment. How has your personal journey influenced your songwriting?
It’s not just an influence—it is my songwriting. My personal journey is the heartbeat of every lyric, every melody, every decision I make as an artist. I write from the rawest places because that’s how music becomes a bridge. When we hear someone else put words to something we’ve felt but couldn’t articulate, it reminds us that we’re not alone. That’s the power of music—it connects us, helps us find our people, and, for me, it’s been a lifeline in my own healing.
Both of your albums were produced entirely by women and nonbinary music makers. Why was this important to you, and what message do you hope to convey through this choice?
Only 4% of music producers are women. Four. That number is absurd. To put it in perspective, even coal mining—a historically male-dominated industry—has a workforce that’s over 10% women. That statistic doesn’t exist because women and nonbinary people aren’t talented producers, engineers, and musicians. It exists because the industry isn’t hiring them. Period.
So if I want to see change, I have to be the change. I didn’t build an all-women and nonbinary team just to make a statement—I did it to tip the scales, to prove what happens when marginalized voices are given the space to lead. And the result? Two of the best records I’ve ever made.
Your music is described as a “reckoning and a reclamation.” What are you reckoning with, and what are you reclaiming through your art?
I’m reckoning with the past—the shame, the silencing, the fear instilled in me by the church, the purity movement, and the expectation to be a “good girl.” I’m confronting what it meant to grow up as a privileged white woman in America and unlearning the ways I was conditioned to shrink myself. And I’m reclaiming everything—my voice, my queerness, my body, my joy. WHAT THEY HID FROM ME is the burning it down. kiss & tell is the living life in full, unapologetic color.
“WHAT THEY HID FROM ME” and “kiss & tell” are sonically and thematically distinct. How did you approach the creative process for each album, and how do they complement each other?
The creative process for WHAT THEY HID FROM ME and kiss & tell couldn’t have been more different—one was raw and live-tracked, the other meticulously built over time.
For WHAT THEY HID FROM ME, I worked with producer Brandy Zdan, shaping each song in my living room over coffee and guitars. A week before recording, she sent the demos to the band, and then we hit the studio, playing live until we captured the perfect take. No click tracks, no endless overdubs—just real musicians in a room, making music together. It was electric.
kiss & tell started during lockdown on GarageBand—on my phone. That’s when I realized I didn’t need permission to produce; I just needed to trust myself. Moving to Nashville, I found pop producer Clare Reynolds (Lollies), and we built the songs by passing them back and forth, layering sounds in my messy home office, fueled by coffee, cookies, and pizza.
You’re not just making music; you’re making space. Can you talk about the importance of representation and creating opportunities for marginalized voices in the music industry?
Representation isn’t just important—it’s necessary. If we don’t see ourselves in the industry, in the media, in the art we consume, we’re left to believe that our stories don’t matter. That’s why I’m intentional about who I work with. Queer folks, women, nonbinary musicians, BIPOC creatives—they deserve to be seen, heard, and PAID for their work. My goal is to use whatever platform I have to uplift and make space for them.
How do you balance your role as an artist with your role as an activist?
I don’t see them as separate things. My activism is embedded in my music, whether it’s through the stories I tell or the people I hire. But I also know that activism is more than just writing a protest song—it’s showing up, doing the work, and listening to the communities most affected. That’s why I’m not just on stage singing about injustice—I’m in the streets, I’m raising money, I’m making space.
Beyond music and activism, what are some of your interests and passions? Do you have any particular lifestyle or fitness practices that you find beneficial?
Lately, I’ve been prioritizing joy. As a Queer person and a woman living in American under this current insane administration, protecting my peace is a form of resistance. I meditate every morning—even just 15 minutes to breathe before the chaos of the day. My pup, Millie, who now tours with me, forces me to take breaks, step outside, and breathe. I’m a VERY proud dog Mom. Oh! And anytime someone offers me a glass of water, I say yes. Small, simple things, but they’ve had a massive impact on my mental health.
You can check the tour dates here www.heathermae.net/tour, and connect with Heather Mae on Instagram @heathermaemusic and TikTok @heathermaemusic. You can check the Spotify albums: What They Hid From Me and Kiss & Tell
Watch the music video Kissing Girls here:
