There's a particular kind of erosion that happens quietly — not in one sudden wound, but in a thousand small moments where you look at the ground and say okay. This song is about that erosion, and about the morning you realize you've been living inside someone else's map of the world. A plane ticket, bought by a father who wanted his daughter home, becomes the first object in years that has her name on it without his permission.
「My Own Window Seat」 lives in the tension between grief and a very fragile, very new kind of freedom. The grief is real: you don't spend four years with someone and simply walk away clean. You grieve the version of love you believed you had, even as you see clearly that it was never that. And then, beneath the grief — quieter, more frightening, more alive — is the altitude. The feeling that you are a person who exists outside of someone else's plans. That the sky was always yours. That you just forgot.
The story that moved us to write this came from a woman who almost didn't let herself ask the question. She wondered, out loud, whether her boyfriend was right — whether it was strange for an adult to want to fly across an ocean to see her father. She read what strangers wrote back to her. She cried. She felt what she called a deep drop in my heart. And then, in the same breath, she wrote seven words that cost her everything and gave her everything back: But I know I must leave.
[Verse 1]
He said it's strange for a woman my age
To fly across the water just to find my dad's face
He shook his head, put his hands up, let out a sigh
Said you don't get it, girl
And I looked at the ground and said all right
He said the kids spread out and the parents stay home
But my father lives an ocean away and I've been alone
He made the rules of the world sound like common sense
So I swallowed what I knew
And kept my mouth closed and said okay then
[Pre-Chorus]
But my daddy bought a ticket
With his own two working hands
He wrote my name in ink
On the only thing I understand
That I exist outside of this room
Outside of all his plans
[Chorus]
I want my own window seat
Watch the clouds go underneath
Feel the altitude I never knew I'd lost
I want the hum of the engine to say
You are a person today
More than a name he taught himself to cross
I want my own window seat
[Verse 2]
He coerced me to quit my job, so I sit and I wait
I learned to thank him for the meals and to never complain
He said someday we'll start a family, be settled, be still
But the life we were building
Was only ever built to fit his will
He told my friend she should've come to him first
Before she told me the truth — like I'm a secret, like I'm a curse
And I kept on coming back because I thought love felt like this
Like someone needing you so badly
That he can't let you exist
[Pre-Chorus 2]
But there's a gate with my name on it
And a seat beside a wing
And for the first time in four years
I'm about to feel something
[Chorus]
I want my own window seat
Watch the clouds go underneath
Feel the altitude I never knew I'd lost
I want the hum of the engine to say
You are a person today
More than a name he taught himself to cross
I want my own window seat
[Bridge]
I read the words people wrote for me
And something broke open in my chest
They said you've been steered in the wrong direction, love
You've been sleeping — it's time to rest
And the tears wouldn't stop, but I knew for the first time
What the word normal meant
I felt a deep drop in my heart
And I finally let it hit
Because the longer I stay here
The less of me is left
I'm in debt with nothing in my pocket
And I've been holding my breath
But I know — I know —
I know I must leave
I know I must leave
[Final Chorus]
I've got my own window seat
I watch the clouds go underneath
Feel the altitude I finally know I lost
And the hum of the engine says
You are a person today
No one's property, no one's weight to exhaust
I've got my own window seat
I've got my own window seat
I've got my own window seat