Troye Sivan’s New Album Shows Us How to Hold Two Feelings at Once

Troye Sivan just dropped his fourth album, She’s the Best, and buried in all the glossy dance-pop production is a feeling most of us know way too well: you can be genuinely thriving and still feel completely alone, sometimes in the same hour.

Sivan has talked about writing the record while coming off the high of a world tour. Picture it: thousands of people singing his lyrics back at him, the lights, the energy, the connection of a packed room moving together. And then the show ends, and he’s back in a hotel room by himself, and that same night turns into one of the loneliest feelings he’s had. He didn’t bury that contradiction or edit it into something tidier. He put both halves on the record, side by side, because that’s what actually happened.

You’re allowed to feel two things at once

This is the part worth sitting with, whether or not you’ve ever heard a single song of his. We tend to treat emotions like a multiple-choice question: pick one. Happy or sad. Grateful or lonely. Living your best life or struggling. But real life almost never hands you a clean answer. You can love your job and still feel stretched thin. You can be surrounded by people at a party and still feel like nobody really sees you. You can be proud of how far you’ve come and still wish someone was there to tell. None of that means you’re doing it wrong. It means you’re paying attention. The albums, shows, and people who stick with us longest are usually the ones honest enough to say “both,” instead of performing a mood for the sake of a clean story.

Sivan said something simple and true about the record: it’s “not a product,” it’s catharsis. That’s a good filter for your own life, too. You don’t owe anyone a highlight reel. You’re allowed to post the good photo and privately admit the week was hard. You’re allowed to show up steady at work and still need a minute to fall apart in the car afterward. The goal isn’t to perform wholeness. It’s to actually be whole, contradictions included.

What makes the album land, rather than just feel sad, is where Sivan points his gratitude. The title track isn’t about romance at all — it’s a thank-you to the women and feminine friends who made him feel safe long before he was ready to be fully himself out loud. That’s a quietly powerful move: in his most vulnerable moment, he didn’t just name the loneliness, he named the people who softened it. Gratitude and honesty aren’t opposites. They go together.

So here’s the takeaway, no music degree required. If you’re in a season where things look good on paper but something still feels unfinished underneath, you’re not failing at happiness. You’re just a person. Let both things be true. And while you’re at it, think about who showed up for you before you had the words to ask for it — a friend, a sibling, someone who simply made space for you to become yourself. Tell them. Sivan built an entire album around that instinct, and it’s the most relatable thing on the record.

The album ends looking forward, not stuck in the loneliness it spent so much time naming. That’s the move. Feel it fully, thank the people who got you through it, and leave the door open for whatever’s next. That’s not just good songwriting. It’s a pretty solid way to live.