I’ve been drunk on a back porch at sunrise with country radio bleeding out of a tinny speaker, and ‘Shoulda Been Mine’ gave me that same quiet burn. Lara Simonot is a Toronto girl, but she writes like someone who’s stood in a dusty driveway at dusk, heart splitting in two, trying not to throw her drink at the guy walking away. I hit play and the acoustic guitar wrapped me up in that low amber glow, soft but loaded, the kind of sound you’d fuck up your eyeliner to.
Lara debuted in 2025 with ‘Scared,’ showing her alt-pop edge. On ‘Shoulda Been Mine,’ she drags that confessional energy straight into pop-country, and it lands with a sting. The opening lyric pulls you right into the triangle: “She was a teenage daydream / With a body straight out the 90’s / Smile like an ambush in her low waisted jeans.” I can see her. I hate her. I’ve been her. I’ve also been the one standing in the back, nails biting, palms sweating, watching him give his heart to someone soft and dainty and thinking, “Isn’t he supposed to like the badass girl more?” Lara doesn’t sugarcoat it. “She just adored ya and / Isn’t that just sweet.” That line hits deep; it’s the kind that burns slow and stays with you.
Advertisement
The hook is the dagger. “She had those baby blue eyes / With those cherry lips / She was soft like summer / And sweet like a kiss / You were stuck together like smoke on fire / She had your heart in her hand / That heart that shoulda been mine.” It’s a chorus that lives rent free in my head. Every time she hits “shoulda been mine,” I taste the tequila from nights I spent watching some other girl hold the guy who swore he loved me. There’s no pleading in her voice, just that raw ache that lives in the throat of every woman who’s ever been edged out of her own love story.
She leans into the contrast between the “certified damsel” and herself: “Oh I was a certified handful / A born to raise hell kinda girl / Tough like my mama and I’m taking on the world / You couldn’t handle / A girl like me anyway.” That’s the part where I straightened my spine and smiled. It’s self-drag and flex rolled into one. It’s her saying, yeah, I’m the wild one, and you weren’t built to keep up. That’s the sexiest moment in the track. It’s a fuck-you and a fuck-me energy in the same breath.
Advertisement
By the final stretch, she’s gone from watching to walking. “Thrown in the back lot to rot I lay forgotten / Oh I’ll be I’ll be two sheets to the wind I’ll be long gone and- / And you’ll be sat next to a doll that you’re tired of flaunting.” The heartbreak fades, and what remains is escape. It’s me grabbing my keys, smudging my lipstick, and heading to the bar with my girls, knowing he’ll see me later and regret every quiet choice he made.
The production stays stripped, acoustic guitar carrying most of the weight, but it’s got a pop-country sheen that makes it feel current. It’s warm, intimate, and still polished enough to live on repeat. There’s nothing mid about the writing. It’s giving diary entry after half a bottle of Boone’s—no cap. It’s the sound of a woman turning jealousy into a song you can cry, love, or leave to. That’s the kind of track that ends up on playlists for bad decisions and long drives. Lara Simonot has that rizz—she can drop one verse and you’re in her world.
‘Shoulda Been Mine’ plays like a confession, the kind you whisper through smoke and regret. A slow, sexy country-pop cut that rides you through jealousy and out the other side with your mascara messy and your heart still beating. I’ve already added it to my “whiskey nights and wrong boys” playlist, because this shit hits different.
