Trinity Reyes Faces Heartbreak, Healing & Hard Truths on Debut EP, 'the road i’m taking'

Trinity Reyes isn’t interested in selling you a fairy tale. She’s not chasing playlists with surface-level hooks or pretending healing comes with a straight line. On her debut EP, the road i’m taking, she drops the unfiltered GPS of her twenties, wrong turns, breakdowns, detours, and all, and it’s exactly the kind of honesty indie folk has been starving for.

Born in the Coachella Valley and now based in L.A., Trinity threads her Central American roots into songs that carry both weight and vulnerability. Imagine Arjona filtered through a Gen Z lens, or Jesse y Joy stripped of polish and thrown into the middle of a quarter-life crisis. Pair that with the intimate, confessional style of artists like Dodie, and you’ve got an EP that’s painfully pretty, stripped bare, and completely unafraid to sit in the mess.

The project began with a single, “i thought we’d get married,” but quickly grew into something bigger as Trinity realized her whole life was spilling into music whether she wanted it to or not. The final product is a six-track spiral through heartbreak, chronic illness, moving cities, and the existential exhaustion of trying to figure yourself out before you’re ready. Each track plays like an entry from a diary you weren’t supposed to read, except she’s brave enough to let you.

Highlights like “drop dead” and “next year,” co-written and produced with her boyfriend JP Dewey, don’t soften the blows. “Next year” in particular captures the brutal honesty of self-sabotage, the quiet shame of realizing you’ve been the one standing in your own way. The EP’s title comes straight from its opening line, “don’t know what road to take," a sentiment that perfectly captures the uncertainty of early adulthood. If you don’t relate, you’re probably lying.

What makes the road i’m taking so striking isn’t polish or perfection but honesty. Trinity doesn’t try to tie her pain into neat conclusions or Instagram-ready affirmations. She lingers in it, allowing space for the contradictions, the confusion, and the quiet resilience that comes with admitting you’re not okay. And that’s what makes the project resonate, it’s not about skipping to the glow-up, it’s about finally saying out loud what so many of us feel in silence.

With the road i’m taking, Trinity Reyes isn’t just introducing herself, she’s carving out a space for anyone fumbling through their twenties, making it clear that imperfection is not just inevitable, it’s worth listening to.

There’s a brutal honesty in your lyrics. Was there ever a moment you were afraid to share too much?

I would say that a lot of the things I’m too afraid to share with others often come out in my writing. Most of the time, I feel safer singing about it than having a conversation. I think any fear that I might have from singing a particular lyric comes from me worrying about what the listener’s perception will be, and not necessarily oversharing. 

Out of all the songs on the EP, “i thought we’d get married” was the song I was maybe most afraid to put out into the world. It’s the only one on the EP that really ties back to my teenage years, and I think admitting that a past relationship meant so much to me felt almost embarrassing. But any emotions you have at sixteen are so heightened -  you experience so many things for the first time, so I try to cut my younger self some slack.

I’m glad I felt safe enough to love so hard at sixteen, even though it quite literally felt like a near-death experience when it ended. Hearing “i thought we’d get married” makes me almost giggle now because so much has happened to me since then. I’ve experienced real love, and it is a little funny that I was so heartbroken (sixteen-year-old me would spit at me if I told her this). 

In my eyes, this song is more about me and all the healing I went through to realize that I deserved more rather than the person I was with when I was sixteen. People can have their own opinions regardless of my intention. I cannot control people’s perception, and that is okay! 

How did working with your boyfriend as producer change the emotional depth of the EP, if at all?

Working with JP comes very naturally, both as a co-writer and a producer! For a really long time, writing with other songwriters was very daunting, but he’s helped me become more confident in my writing, and we’ve really found a rhythm that works for us. We’ve been together for almost four and a half years, but we didn’t start regularly working together musically until about a year and a half ago. 

All the love songs on the EP are about him, so it’s extraordinary to have had him produce those. Because we both worked from the same feeling on “your name” and “you light up my world,” there’s an added depth that I hope comes across to anyone who listens. It’s almost like his production is his response to my songwriting. I think it heightens the giddiness and swooning that I sing about in these songs. I absolutely love love, and I’m very grateful that I get to collaborate with him, especially when the songs are about him.

Outside of “i thought we’d get married,” the song is either about him or he’s witnessed the event that inspired each song. We co-wrote “drop dead” and “next year” on the EP. “drop dead” is about the medical gaslighting I experienced while trying to get my endometriosis diagnosis.

He was there throughout that entire process, and because there’s no cure for endometriosis, it’s something I still deal with. He’s there when I have my monthly flare-ups, so having him help me finish this song was very easy. I originally wanted the song to be very stripped back, but it quickly became a combination of the type of music we both enjoy. The production behind “drop dead” brings out the anger that comes with being dismissed for so long, while also showcasing the hopelessness and sadness that come with living with chronic pain.

I was having a tough time last year, and I truly felt like no matter what I did, I was going to end up stuck in the same dismal place. “next year” was the first song of mine that we co-wrote, and it will always hold a special place in my heart. My lyrics tend to be more straightforward and it’s exciting to see how his metaphorical songwriting meshed together with mine in “next year.”

You talk about losing the fearlessness of your teenage years. What are you doing now to reclaim it?

I’m still consciously fighting to regain that fearlessness, but I feel like I’ve made so much progress in the last year and a half! After nearly two years away from the stage, I performed in front of an audience for the first time last year, and while it was absolutely terrifying, it was exactly what I needed to slowly get that sense of fearlessness back. Outside of just realizing that pursuing an artist and songwriting career is something I’ve always wanted to do, there are so many things I do to reclaim that fearlessness that have nothing to do with music. I went on my first solo trip in a long time in February to Kansas City and had a great time exploring by myself. While in Kansas City, I did a lot of the things that really started this journey for me - I took different workout classes and treated myself to meals out. 

I also realized that if I didn’t accomplish something because I was too afraid even to try, the regret that would come with that later on would be even worse than the fear itself. I think that’s been keeping me going.

The EP is heavy but still soft. How do you balance vulnerability without slipping into self-pity?

I mentioned before that my lyrics tend to be very straightforward, and that’s just how I naturally write. I think this sometimes allows listeners to put themselves into my songs and find their own stories. I’m constantly self-reflecting, and some of that might just be overthinking, but I’m always aiming to grow from my past decisions. I think this helps me balance vulnerability with self-pity. Because I’m constantly reflecting on everything from writing to life experiences, it means I’m constantly editing or thinking of edits to everything everywhere all the time, which helps me catch any moments of self-pity in my songs (this obsessive thinking pattern is probably unhealthy, and you might be able to tell that I’m a very anxious person.) 

There might be some self-pity in “drop dead,” but I also know that I’m fortunate to have eventually found a doctor who believed in me enough to stop and listen. Honestly, I think everyone should be allowed some moments of self-pity. Sometimes that’s the only way you can cope with a dark moment until you find healthier ways of processing. 

I’ve written about many difficult moments, and as a small person, I tend to have huge feelings that feel overwhelming most days. Writing is my way