We recently connected with Sydney Guerrette and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Sydney, thanks for joining us today. Can you open up about a risk you’ve taken – what it was like taking that risk, why you took the risk and how it turned out?

My family has always lived by this motto: there is no Plan B. At first, it can sound rigid, almost unforgiving. But over the last decade, I’ve found it to be one of the most clarifying principles I’ve ever held.

Taking risks with a closed hand, gripping tightly to outcomes, can feel suffocating, like everything hinges on ‘success’ or ‘failure’. But taking risks with open hands is different. It’s expansive. It allows room for growth and change.

‘There is no Plan B’ or ‘it’s all or nothing’ often carries a harsh tone. If you fail, it can feel devastating, especially when your identity is wrapped up in what you’re pursuing. But I’ve learned to reframe it. It’s not about clinging to a single outcome; it’s about committing to a vision that aligns with who you are and what you value. The path may shift because life is unpredictable, but the direction stays true. You keep showing up for what matters, regardless of what it looks like along the way.

I’ve been pursuing my Plan A for nearly ten years, though in many ways, I’ve been preparing for it my whole life. As a kid, I dreamed of becoming a singer-songwriter. I loved storytelling, first through poems and short stories, and eventually through music. Songwriting has always found its way back to me, whether I was processing pain or joy, loss or waiting. It’s been a place to ground myself.

I grew up in the church, and when I was 15, I met a well-known songwriter in that world. By 16, I was traveling between Portland, Maine, my hometown, and Franklin, Tennessee, working with him. I interned at a studio, sat in writing rooms with signed songwriters, and had conversations with label executives. For a while, it felt like I was stepping into a life I had imagined as a kid. But somewhere along the way, I realized it wasn’t where I was meant to be.

Near the end of that season, I was offered a publishing deal; an opportunity that, from the outside, looked like the obvious next step. And still, something in me said no. Behind closed doors, and even in direct conversations, I was being told I couldn’t write the songs I wanted to write. I was wrestling with my faith, with what I was seeing in the world, and I knew I couldn’t separate those questions from my art. I’ve always made decisions based on my values, and this was no different. So, I decided to walk away.

Years later, I’m still writing and performing, but now, it’s on my terms. I don’t have a label behind me, but that closed door made space for something more honest. It led me to create with my brother, Brayden, and to ask deeper questions about what we actually want to say as artists and who we want to be as people.

We formed our band, In the Company of Wolves, while traveling across 42 states in 11 months. We often say that time felt like our first real tour. It was uncertain and unpolished, as is life.

Choosing to walk away from that earlier opportunity didn’t close my path. It clarified it. That ‘risk’ now feels like alignment. It shaped me into someone who isn’t afraid to leave what feels like settling in order to pursue something truer, something deeper.

There is no Plan B, not because there’s only one way forward, but because I’ve chosen to trust the path that keeps me rooted in who I am.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

My name is Sydney Guerrette. I am a 24-year-old artist and nonprofit founder based in Chattanooga, Tennessee. The majority of my work lives at the intersection of storytelling, advocacy, and community impact. At 15, I launched Be The Change Youth Initiative, an organization focused on youth empowerment and mental health awareness.

Around the same time, I began traveling between my home state, Maine, and Tennessee to pursue music. After a year and a half in that space, I chose to step away from the ‘traditional’ path and continue independently, carving out a more intentional and purpose-driven approach to my art.

In 2019, my worlds quite literally converged when my family and I took Be The Change Youth Initiative on the road, traveling to 42 states in 11 months in an RV. It was during this cross-country journey that my brother, Brayden, and I began writing and performing music together. This laid the foundation for what would become our band, In the Company of Wolves. More than six years later, we continue to create and perform as a duo, using music as a form of connection and reflection.

Though nonprofit work and music may seem like separate paths, I feel as though they are deeply intertwined. The work of Be The Change keeps me grounded, while my music amplifies the stories and perspectives I encounter, especially those of young people navigating mental health challenges in an increasingly complex world. Storytelling, in all its forms, is central what I do.

Since officially becoming a licensed nonprofit in 2020, Be The Change Youth Initiative has expanded its vision to include creating leadership opportunities for high school students, with a focus on food insecurity, mental health, and community-based art initiatives.

As Brayden and I prepare to head back on tour, our hope is that our performances continue to reflect the voices and experiences we’ve gathered along the way.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

Over the past several years, I’ve had to unlearn something that was deeply ingrained in me: the belief that I’m only worthy of love and joy if I show up perfectly. Truthfully, I’m still in the process of unraveling that. There are pros and cons to every career, but one of the hardest parts of pursuing music is walking the line between ownership and acceptance. On one hand, I am the creator of my art, no one else gets to decide how or what I create. On the other, sustaining a career as an independent artist requires people to connect with it. To listen, to show up, to support what I put into the world.

I was raised to always give my best, and that mindset has served me in many ways. But as a perfectionist, it also became a heavy burden. If I couldn’t show up at my absolute best at all times, I convinced myself I didn’t deserve good things. I would punish myself for mistakes or for falling short of expectations that, in reality, were never attainable. That’s not a freeing way to live. It left me hesitant to try new things, afraid of the unfamiliar simply because I didn’t already know how to navigate it.

But through the support of people I trust, I’ve been reminded of something simple and grounding: being human was never about perfection. My career matters deeply to me, especially because the paths I’ve chosen are so personal. But, it isn’t everything. I’m learning to offer myself more grace. To make space for joy and love, even when I fall short of the standards I’ve been holding so tightly. Because the truth is, we’re all flawed. Perfection isn’t something we can reach. And maybe that’s both the scary part and the healing part. So, I’m choosing to lean into the messiness. To show up as authentically as I can. And to move through life with as much hope and love as possible, in the big moments and the small ones.

What do you think is the goal or mission that drives your creative journey?

My family and I have collectively experienced a great deal of church hurt over the years. As we traveled the country in 2019, we heard story after story very similar to ours. Stories of pain, confusion, and disillusionment within spaces that were meant to offer belonging and love. That shared experience is where our band name, In the Company of Wolves, comes from. It raises a question we continue to wrestle with: When we find ourselves in the company of wolves, what do we do?

To us, wolves represent those who weaponize religion to oppress, demonize, and harm others. (Matthew 7:15 speaks to this very thing.)

After six years of performing under this name, it feels more meaningful and grounding than ever. On a personal level, I feel especially connected to it as someone who grew up in the evangelical church and has since stepped away. Faith still matters deeply to me, but it looks different now. It’s no longer tied to a rigid formula or structure. Instead, it’s reflected in how I show up in the world, in how I choose to see and love people.

That perspective, along with a commitment to hope, to the belief that people are inherently good, and that change is possible, shapes so much of the music we write. It’s also what’s led us to this next chapter. Later this year, we’ll be touring with The New Evangelicals, a national organization committed to reimagining what faith can look like. They’re creating space for those who’ve been hurt, questioning, or pushed out, acknowledging that what many of us were taught within evangelical spaces was often rooted in fear and exclusion, and that it doesn’t have to be the end of the story. There is another way forward. And I believe it’s one grounded in love, honesty, and hope.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://bethechangeyi.com/ & https://linktr.ee/inthecompanyofwolvesindie
• Instagram: @bethechangeyi & @inthecompanyofwolvesindie
• Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/inthecompanyofwolvesmusic

Image Credits

Photo Credits: Kelly Lacy