Dori Valentine’s “Hurting My Feelings” Is a Soft-Spoken Gut Punch for Anyone Still Loving in Hindsight

Some songs don’t need to shout to be heard. They whisper—right into your chest—and somehow hit harder than the loudest breakup anthem. That’s exactly what Dori Valentine does on her latest single, “Hurting My Feelings.”

The track is as tender as it is devastating. It’s all memory and mood: soft around the edges, but sharp where it counts. A true bedroom pop confessional, it floats like a lullaby and lands like a text you weren’t supposed to see.

At first listen, “Hurting My Feelings” feels like a warm blanket—muted guitars, hushed vocals, that lo-fi hum that makes you feel like you’re sitting cross-legged on the floor of your own past. But as the lyrics start to bloom, so does the ache.

Soft to the ear, sharp to the heart.

Dori’s songwriting doesn’t dress up heartbreak—it dissects it. With just the right amount of space between lines, she gives you room to feel everything she’s saying. And what she’s saying is: “I’m not over it. Not even close.”

It’s that beautifully specific kind of pain that comes from remembering. Not the dramatic moments—the quiet ones. The way they looked when they were laughing at nothing. The way it felt when you thought it meant more. The way you're still stuck thinking about it even though you're not supposed to be.

Dori Valentine is a rare kind of artist—one who doesn’t just write songs, she documents feelings. Originally from Amarillo, Texas, she brings a certain grounded stillness to her music, like someone who knows exactly how silence can say just as much as sound.

Her voice is breathy but steady, delivering each line with a kind of calm clarity that makes every word feel like it’s sitting right next to you. It’s not flashy. It’s honest. Which, in a world full of overproduced heartbreak bangers, is oddly refreshing.

Musically, “Hurting My Feelings” sits in the sweet spot between indie and classic singer-songwriter pop, with a hint of that late-night Tumblr-era melancholy we all pretend we’re too cool to still feel. It’s giving early Clairo meets Nick Drake if he had a MIDI controller. It’s simple in the most deliberate way—no overproduction, just raw emotion and space to breathe.

The song walks that delicate line between sadness and comfort. It's not wallowing, it's reminiscing. It's what happens when the memory is as beautiful as it is painful—and you're not ready to let it go just yet.

“Hurting My Feelings” is more than a single—it’s a signal. A preview of what’s to come on Dori Valentine’s full-length studio album, set to drop later this year. If this track is anything to go by, we’re in for a record that won’t just soundtrack our heartbreaks—it’ll help us make sense of them.

With past releases like “INC.”, “Chlorine”, and “Bunk Beds”, Dori’s already built a tiny universe of soft edges and deep feelings. “Hurting My Feelings” feels like the moment where that world finally cracks open—and what spills out is entirely, unapologetically human.

There’s nothing performative about “Hurting My Feelings.” It’s not trying to be a hit—it is a hit, just not in the traditional sense. It hits your gut, not the charts (though it deserves both).

This is music for the emotionally fluent. For people who still think about someone from two falls ago. For quiet nights and long walks and texts you’ll never send.

So go ahead—press play, lie back, and let Dori Valentine hurt your feelings a little. You’ll thank her for it.