Hi, I’m Shane Milward‑Kennedy — a singer‑songwriter and creative professional who’s learned to turn silence into sound, pain into purpose, and challenge into art.

Music has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember — not because it came easily, but because it gave me something that nothing else ever could: freedom.


As someone born with extremely limited hearing, I’ve spent my life experiencing sound differently. I rely on a bone‑anchored hearing device and other assistive technologies to engage with the world around me, but music has never been about what I can hear — it’s about what I can feel.

 

Even when silence surrounded me, music was still there — a vibration, a pulse, a comfort that existed beyond sound waves. It became my outlet, my safe space, and my voice when I didn’t have one.

Growing Up and Finding My Voice

School was never easy for me.
I didn’t “fit in.”


I was bullied, misunderstood, and often left feeling like I existed on the outside of everything. I struggled academically and socially — not because I didn’t care, but because I learned differently, processed differently, and lived differently.

There were days when I’d come home from school feeling invisible or broken. But when I sat down to write, something changed. Music gave me a place to put the things I couldn’t say out loud — the pain, confusion, hope, and quiet resilience. Writing songs became my way of surviving, of understanding the world around me, and of proving that I did have something to say.

 

At the time, I had no idea that years later, those same songs — written in silence and solitude — would become the foundation of my artistic journey.

The Turning Point

When I left school, I didn’t know what direction life would take me. I wasn’t a “high achiever” by academic standards, and for a while, that made me believe I wasn’t capable of much. But over time, I realised that success doesn’t come from fitting in — it comes from showing up as yourself.

 

So I made a promise to myself:
To take every opportunity.
To say “yes” to new experiences, even when they scared me.
To learn without fear.
And to become the best version of myself, both personally and professionally.

That choice changed everything.

I began taking on challenges I once thought were impossible — gaining qualifications, developing skills, and building a career where I could thrive. I found a way to merge my passion for technology, creativity, and collaboration into my professional life, while still nurturing my love for music in my own way.

 

Every milestone I’ve achieved — whether in work or outside it — is built on determination, not circumstance. I never wanted to be treated as “different.” I wanted to be treated as equal — because equality isn’t about pretending our struggles don’t exist; it’s about recognising that we can still achieve great things because of them.

Living with FND and Mental Health Challenges

Life isn’t without its battles.


I live with Functional Neurological Disorder (FND) — a condition that can leave me physically debilitated at times, unpredictable and draining. I also live with the ongoing effects of mental health challenges, which have shaped a lot of who I am.

There are days when it’s hard to keep going. Days when the simplest things feel impossible. But it’s in those moments that I remind myself: I’ve already overcome so much.

My deafness, my health, my past — they’re not obstacles, they’re teachers. They’ve taught me resilience, empathy, and perspective. They’ve shown me that it’s not about how many times you fall, but how many times you get back up and keep creating, keep growing, keep existing.

Technology, Creativity, and Connection

Modern technology has played a huge part in my journey.
With the advancements in audio software, visual analysis tools, and adaptive hearing technology, I’ve been able to bring my music to life in ways I never could before. Recording and producing are more than just hobbies — they’re extensions of who I am.

I use visual cues, vibrations, and adaptive tools to build each song — piece by piece, feeling by feeling. I might not hear everything conventionally, but I know when it feels right.

To me, that’s what music really is — a feeling. It’s not bound by volume, pitch, or perfection; it’s about emotion, honesty, and connection.

Becoming Who I Am

Looking back, I see a journey that started from pain but grew into purpose.
The bullied kid who didn’t fit in became a man who found his own way — professionally, creatively, and personally.

I’ve learned that success doesn’t have to look a certain way. You don’t have to take the traditional route. You don’t have to fit the mould. You just have to keep going, keep learning, and keep believing that your story is worth telling.

Every qualification I’ve earned, every song I’ve written, and every goal I’ve achieved reminds me that the limits we think we have are rarely real — they’re just waiting to be redefined.

Today and Tomorrow

Today, I’m proud to call myself both a professional and an artist — someone who has learned to live, create, and thrive on my own terms.


My music tells my story: of being deaf, of battling FND, of living with mental health challenges, of never fitting in but always standing strong.

 

If my journey can inspire even one person to keep going, to take a chance on themselves, or to believe that they too can turn their challenges into strengths — then it’s all been worth it.

I’m not defined by what I’ve lost. I’m defined by what I continue to create.

A Final Thought

We all carry something — some visible, some invisible.


But those challenges don’t make us weaker; they make us real.


Music has taught me that beauty can exist in imperfection, strength can live in struggle, and connection can thrive even in silence.

That’s my story — and I’m still writing it, one note at a time.