Why is "me & u" meaningful to me

"I don't think you listen, you listen"

“Me & U” found me at a time when I was quietly unraveling — caught in the thick mist of spiritual doubt, where nothing felt certain and everything felt like it was slipping through my fingers. I was struggling with my spirituality, not because I didn’t believe, but because I couldn’t seem to connect with Big G the way everyone else did. The rituals, the language, the structure — it all felt foreign, like I was knocking on a door that wasn’t meant for me.

"For me to come out, it must mean I'm at the door It must mean I'm not the same"

And then came this song. It didn’t preach or promise — it simply understood. In its stillness, “Me & U” wrapped around me like a gentle reassurance. It said: your relationship with the Divine doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s. It is enough that it exists. It is enough that you feel. It is enough that you want. And most importantly, it is yours. Just you and Big G — no audience, no formula, no performance.

"Give me one break, I need faith Faith to believe you, faith to receive you"

I had carried this fear — that in order to belong, to be seen by the Divine, I would have to shed everything I was. That I'd have to contort myself into a shape that wasn’t mine. And that frightened me deeply, because I knew — I knew — there was nothing wrong with me. My spirit wasn’t broken. My soul wasn’t lost. It was just looking for a language it could finally call home.

"Only me and you, only me and you (you)"

“Me & U” gave me permission to redefine what sacred looks like. It reminded me that connection doesn’t always roar — sometimes it’s a whisper between heartbeats, a quiet surrender, a sacred nod in the middle of chaos. It reminded me that the Divine doesn’t need perfection. The Divine just needs presence.

"Me & U" reminded me: divinity meets us where we are, not where others expect us to be.