How Nicole Han Transformed Her Heartbreak Into Empowerment

Nicole Han’s first EP was full of “sad girl” songs. Her new music chronicles a newfound freedom and power.

Bryce Glenn

Nicole Han can throw a mean punch. 

You can see for yourself in the cathartic music video for her single “I DON’T FEEL A THING ANYMORE” where Han boxes her way out of a painful breakup. 

The video, she told me recently over a Zoom call from California, is symbolic. “The song is not about boxing,” she said with a laugh. “But I really wanted to have a concept that didn’t relate to the music video and instead related metaphorically. In the pre-chorus there’s two giant hits in the song, so it worked visually because it matched the timing perfectly.” To prepare, Han went method and took boxing classes so she could learn how to land a punch. She toughened herself up mentally too. Break-ups have a way of doing that to you. But the eventual healing fueled her art, and it’s become damn good because of it. 

“I DON’T FEEL A THING ANYMORE” is the euphoric lead single from Han’s new EP “Sweet Timing”. The song's excellent production, created by Han’s longtime producer Mike Matta, lands with a bang. “I don’t feel a thing anymore/ When I play our song in my car,” Han sings over a beat that’s made for listening to in your car on a midnight drive. 

“I was basically trying to capture the feeling of being free from a relationship that took over everything,” she told me. “So when I’m saying, ‘I don’t feel a thing anymore’, I’m saying, ‘I don’t feel the same love anymore.’ It’s an empowering, freeing song.” 

Like the best of Han’s music, “I DON’T FEEL A THING ANYMORE” captures a diaristic feel, as if you’re sitting next to Han in her car as she lets go of the anger and grief. Han’s vulnerability has always been in her music. On one of my favorite b-sides from her first EP “so it goes…”, she writes about relationships with a wry sincerity. “I wasted all my money/ I wasted all my time,” she sings on “running shoes”. “Just so I could get close to you.” Then she turns the knife in. “Hope those running shoes look good on you/ ‘Cause you ran to someone new/ And you never looked back.”

If Han’s first EP soaked up melancholy, sad girl vibes, “Sweet Timing” explores the autonomy that comes from moving on. “It’s something I haven’t written before because my first EP was really sad and full of heartbreak,” she said. “So I made this the first track on the second EP because I felt like it made the most sense.” 

In many ways, Han believes, it is a reinvention. 

Han spent her childhood growing up in Southern California, but she moved to Los Angeles for college. After graduating from Loyola Marymount University, Han chose to stay in the city. She wanted to be around other creatives and give music a chance. 

Her family, she told me, has always encouraged her to pursue art. “I feel like I don’t even remember getting into music because it’s like I was born and was doing music,” Han laughs. She started playing piano at three before moving into musical theater and dance. Music runs in Han’s blood: Her mother also sang, a talent that she passed down to Han and her sister. As kids, Han remembered, “we’d put on shows in the house.” 
“I was always surrounded by music, dancing, and writing, so I feel like it all came very naturally to me,” she said.

Han began writing music as a child, recording all of her lyrics in a notebook she kept at home. But her first proper song, “Aftertaste”, was written on Han’s keyboard at home and released in 2021. Many singers regard their earliest music with some level of embarrassment, but Han is still proud of that track. “It’s my most cinematic song to date,” she said. “That was the first song I ever worked on in a studio too.” The sophistication in Han’s music, I’d argue, was always there from the beginning. 

Han majored in design in college, which gave her an edge in making music. Art toughened Han up to criticism. But it also taught her that she could make music however suited her best. “There’s no one right way to do something.” she learned. “That’s exactly parallel to how it is in music.”

Han thrives best “being in an environment where I’m constantly learning from my peers and listening to what other people in my space are doing,” she continued. “I take all of that in and figure out how I want to be as an artist.”

And while Han is inspired by several artists, her songwriting is singularly her own. “I feel like that’s a goal,” she told me. “I don’t want to sound exactly like anybody else.”

Bryce Glenn

Han has studied enough art to know that a great artist constantly surprises you. Behind her on Zoom, hung her senior thesis: a mixed media painting that burst with hues of pink, black and white. On another side of her wall hung a guitar. These two identities of Han’s, as both the visual designer and the musician, are what fuel the ambitious artist she’s becoming. 

“I’m constantly trying to learn and grow,” Han said as she reflected on the past year. Her last reinvention came over the past year after the release of “so it goes…”. “I learned a lot that year making my first EP. Through that first full year of releasing music, I decided that this is what I wanted to do,” she recalled. Being thrown into making music was tough at first. Han thought that she had a lot of ground to make up that many peers in music her age had already figured out.

“But once that project came together, it gave me confidence to keep going and pursuing music. I feel like I learned everything with that whole project. I had my first shows in that era. I had never written with other people before. So, I worked with other writers in that era, too.”

Overall, the process of making “so it goes…” taught Han how to be a self-sustained artist. “That era and ‘Sweet Timing’ really prepared me for what’s next because I got really comfortable writing with other producers,” she said. “I had spent so much time writing in my room, that I was like, ‘How do I collaborate or write a song with somebody? How do I talk about my feelings or say I don’t like something?’” 

Creating her own music or playing her own shows gave Han real-world artist experience that she couldn’t learn in class. “I’m still learning,” she said, “but I feel like I have a better concept of everything.” 

Today, Han works as a creative director for her music projects. She’s hands on with every detail, from music video treatments to her wholly personal songwriting. “If I could do everything myself I would!” she said with a laugh. “But it’s fun being my own creative director, especially because I feel like I didn’t even know what I was doing a year ago.” 

Now, Han’s favorite thing to do is lay the foundation for what’s next in 2025. “I love the planning part of making music,” she explained. “I make my moodboards and I even love the non-creative parts like planning out the timelines. So it’s a lot of fun.” 

At shows, Han is heartened by the Asian American girls who’ve told her that she’s inspired them to pursue music. “That’s better than any numerical success,” she said. 

Perhaps because Han knows firsthand just how hard it is to find women who look like her in music, she sees her job as being more than just a musician. Han can cite influences like beabadoobee or Oliva Rodrigo, but she knows that Asian American girls deserve more representation and more opportunities for success. 

“I want to inspire and help people to be heard. I also want people to be seen,” she said. “I just want people who look like me to be inspired too. I want to continue to build a strong community, grow and hopefully resonate with people. I think that’s number one for myself.”

Bryce Glenn

When I think of Han’s best work, and her highest potential as an artist, my mind immediately goes to the magic of “Sweet Timing”. It is, without hyperbole, a perfect pop-rock record. It’s the kind of music that feels almost absurd because it hasn’t broken into the mainstream yet. 

Han’s a sharp, astute songwriter; someone who can cut into the heart of things like the mixed feelings of moving on, as she does on “somebody new”. “I hate to turn the light switch off/ And walk out of a room we kept lukewarm for far too long,” she tells an ex. “But I met somebody new/ You don’t know my body/ Now you’re just somebody/ ‘Cause I met somebody new.”

On the slow build title track, Han lets the instrumentation swell as she tries to trust that the next one won’t break her heart. “I’ll take the long road/ Take it slow/ I’ll guard my heart, it’s all I know,” she sings, “But I’m opening up to you.”  

By the end of the record, Han has reached the acceptance stage of heartbreak. She observes wryly on “end of our story, “There’s no perfect ending for two flaming hearts/ So I’ll keep on dancing ‘cause there’s more to life.” Han was intentional with the song’s placement: “That sums out the closure of a relationship and puts a period at the end of the sentence,” she told me. 

The power of Han’s art is in her strength. It’s something I see most arrestingly in the music video for “I DON’T FEEL A THING ANYMORE”. Her resilience is there as she boxes up her ex’s belongings, their photographs, and letters. Leaving her home for the gym, she breaks into a stride along a suburban SoCal neighborhood at golden hour. Looking as if she’s late for a date, she wears a white dress, her purple gym bag slung over her shoulder as she clutches the box that holds what’s left of her relationship. 

Han throws her head back and laughs as she runs, caught up in the euphoria that comes from letting go. The camera shakes as it follows her, trying to keep up. But Han is fast – she sprints ahead towards the California mountains, her arms outstretched, as she welcomes in the great unknown of what’s to come.