For a long, long time now, music has been one of the few constants in my life; unlike people you deem friends, it doesn’t walk away from you with no explanation. You may grow apart from certain bands or songs you once loved, but unlike a friend, it’s easy to reconnect with a song from your childhood from time to time. Unlike the places we grow up in, the music we know usually doesn’t change. Instead, the way we perceive and understand our homes changes and, sometimes, so does the way we understand songs we’ve known for years. That’s one of the beautiful things about music, it transcends borders, languages, and time. For someone like me whose perception of what “home” is changed as she grew into herself and always had trouble making friends and opening up to people, stumbling into a world of music as a teenager offered an escape and a world of understanding I had yet to find.
“Music’s the only thing that makes sense man. Play it loud enough, it'll keeps the demons at bay.”
One of the major reasons music became such a big part of my life is the quote above from Across the Universe; every time I hear that line in the movie, it strikes a deep and hidden chord with me. Because of the upheaval in my family around the time I was 11, I had to let go of being a kid a lot sooner than most kids my age, leaving me with lots of unanswered questions, feelings of alienation, and frustration with being different than everybody else. Because the only real friend I had was my Dad and it was still hard for me to open up to him and he was preoccupied dealing with his own grief while also trying to keep his business floating, I did my best to deal with everything on my own; instead of giving in to the dark feelings and inner demons I battled, I turned to my music. To this day, that’s still how I function. I don’t like having people worrying about me or burdening others with my problems.
For that reason, I started turning to music and eventually writing. It’s difficult to put into words exactly why music is something I turn to for comfort or advice, of sorts, where others might turn to a friend, but I do. In the beginning, I think it was because I could relate so much to what I heard in those songs and it would make me feel less alone, like someone else out there was experiencing or had experienced the same things I was. If I was struggling with a boy situation, listening to one of the many love songs the Beatles had written would make it seem less like the end of the world. When I wanted to feel like a rebel or if I really wanted to feel like I was at the beach with my family again, I’d listen to Jimmy Buffett curse like the sailor he is. As I got older and started longing to escape where I was, music showed me a way to find those places, even if only in my head. Whenever I’ve been anxious, putting on a song helped me get out of my head. If I ever did feel sad and alone, hearing songs about heartache and loss made me see I wasn’t the only who had ever struggled with it. I found people who understood the things I felt that I couldn’t and shouldn’t share with others. But through the music I found somebody else out there who got it and that was all that mattered to me, finding someone who understands.
As cliché as it might seem, it all started with the Beatles and a CD player. One CD of their greatest hits led to a collection of nearly their entire catalog. For a while, the Fab Four, Jimmy Buffett, and artists like Ray Charles were all I would listen to, no joke; I had one, conglomerate playlist I would listen to ninety percent of the time. On Friday nights while my sister was out with her friends, I would sit in the room we shared at our grandfather’s house and listen to the Beatles and write or whatever else it was I did. Before that and before I had an iPod, I would ride around on my bike with a CD player in a small backpack and listen as I rode around the neighborhood. Once I had said iPod, I did the same thing, even when I was riding around with my dad as he worked. To this very day, my now vastly expanded music library is still something I turn to when I need a little pep in my step or a reminder that it’s all going to be okay.
As I got older, I realized that kids who had had rough upbringings similar to mine turned to more sinister things to ease their pain. The more I saw that I could have followed that same path, the more I wondered how and why I hadn’t. That answer is still a bit of a mystery to me, all it would have taken for that to change is one moment of weakness, one night around the wrong crowd. One big factor in that is the support we had from our family as we grew up. Even now, knowing we have that supportive network means the world to me. But aside from family, I think having music to turn to and find solace in helped just as much, if not more. I never truly opened up to anyone in my family until I got to college. Before then, I kept most everything hidden away and used music and writing to cope with what I felt. Instead of harnessing that energy in illegal activities, I focused it on the music and let it keep me from doing stupid things I would most likely regret. The melodies and words meant so much to me that I would defend any band I loved against any haters, just like you would defend a friend.
I say all that to say, I owe what little sanity I have to the music; it really has kept the demons at bay. Nothing I know of fills the loneliest days like jamming out to a few of your favorite tunes. There is nothing that resonates in my bones more deeply than a good song and I have yet to find anything that fills my soul with the same overflowing energy that music does. Nobody I have met thus far in my life can turn the crappiest of days around like music can. Similarly, nobody I have met thus far has been by my side for as long. Music is my buddy, my pal, and my friend and it will forever hold my heart.
