Walking in the Shoes of the Misjudged, Abused, and Angry - DeiNavi shares about the realities behind her journey and music

There’s a difference between singing to someone and singing for them. DeiNavi’s music does the latter—with honesty, empathy, and scars still healing. She doesn’t sing from a distant stage of perfection. She sings from the trenches. From pain she’s lived through. From wounds she still surrenders to God.

“I’ve been through every type of abuse—family, friends, authority figures, institutions. I was always labeled dramatic, called a lost cause. But only a handful of people stopped to look deeper. Behind the defensiveness. Behind the silence.”

For years, DeiNavi lived emotionally exiled, socially awkward—not because she didn’t care, but because she expected pain from people. She became guarded, withdrawn, misunderstood. But even in that hurt, she knew—deep down—that she was called to the very people who had wounded her.

"For a long time, I didn’t want to be around people. It wasn’t just introversion—it was survival. Life taught me, very early on, that people were dangerous. That love often came laced with manipulation. That family didn’t always mean safe, and that friendship could mean betrayal."

Abuse came in many forms and from many sources—family, friends, institutions, even those meant to protect and lead. And yet, most times I tried to express that pain, it was dismissed. I was labeled as “too sensitive,” “too much,” “playing the victim,” or “a lost cause.”

For years, she ran. Like Jonah.

"I couldn’t understand how God could ask me to go back and pour into those who had pierced me. I didn’t want to be the voice of grace—I wanted justice. I didn’t want to be vulnerable—I wanted protection. I didn’t want to serve the people I was called to. I didn’t think they deserved it. But then God showed me grace. He showed me that I needed it too.”

This revelation unraveled everything. Because grace doesn’t justify abuse—it heals the abused and the abuser.

DeiNavi realized that in her brokenness, she too had caused pain. And just as she needed restoration, so did those she once resented. That clarity changed everything.

God was patient.

He introduced her to grace in a deeply personal way and since that, she has been learning to recognize that Grace doesn’t just forgive. It transforms. And it started transforming her.

Her music became a bridge. A voice for the unseen. A safe place for the angry, the outcast, the ones barely holding on.

“I don’t write for the church pews. I write for the person who feels unworthy to even step in.”

Her song “Give My All to You” became an anthem for those hurting in hiding. One listener messaged to say she had it on repeat—that it made her feel seen and it was exactly what she needed for that season.

“That’s one of the moments I knew—this is bigger than me.”

DeiNavi’s journey hasn’t been linear. It's been refined by fire, pruned by pain, and purified through surrender. Her husband was the first person God used to begin softening the walls. From there, she’s been slowly learning to open up—carefully, intentionally, with God leading every step.

“I want my ministry to be a reminder of God’s available redemption and healing in the midst of very real pain.”

Now, she sings from a place of healed humility—not because she has arrived, but because she knows the road. She walks in the shoes of the wounded—not just to feel their pain, but to point them to the Healer. Her sound is not designed to fit industry trends. It’s carved out to heal broken hearts.

"I used to resent my uniqueness, particularly because most people did. I now understand that God made me different for a reason. I was never meant to conform. I was always meant to disrupt. To reflect Jesus in places religion has forgotten. To sit with the misjudged because I’ve been misjudged. To sing over the broken because I’ve been shattered."

She is still surrendering. Still healing. But now she walks with the people—not away from them. Not above them, and certainly not below them. And in doing so, she is beginning to see that obedience—especially the kind that costs you—is the most sacred form of worship.

In a world eager to cancel, judge, or overlook, DeiNavi’s music reminds us that God sees. God restores. God sends messengers like her—not to condemn, but to walk alongside the hurting, with lyrics like lifelines and melodies like mercy.