Music.

Can't live with it, but certainly can't live without it.

Here's my story about how I fell out of love with music.

Growing up, I always knew I wanted to be a musician. Whether that were to be performing or teaching, it was the one thing I was consistently passionate about. From the grades 4th - 12th, I was always in choir. Singing was my absolute favorite thing in the world and it brought me so much joy. The fact that I could open my mouth and produce a sound that a composer had written down was amazing to me. Everyone in my life had always told me that I should go into music, so I listened. When senior year rolled around, I was iffy about choosing my major. I was stuck between Music Therapy and Music Education. I ended up choosing Music Therapy.

BIG mistake.

After arriving at college and going through my first few weeks of therapy classes, I knew I was in the wrong field. Unfortunately, by the time I figured that out, it was too late to drop the class. College is hard enough, but having to go through a class that you know you will not need is ever harder.

Upon the countless other classes I was in, aural perception, music theory, piano, voice lessons, and performance, therapy became the biggest burden of them all. I slowly began to hate school and would constantly skip class because of the stress it caused me. I knew that if I could get through my therapy class, that next semester would be better. Even with my poor attendance and hatred of school, I still finished with all A's and made the Deans List.

Beginning second semester, I chose to major in music education. Finally, something I knew I wanted to do. Unfortunately, there were no music education classes available second semester, so I just stuck with the basic music classes that I mentioned earlier. I figured that because I wasn't in that dreadful therapy class that this semester would be a breeze.

Again, I was mistaken.

I tried to focus on my core music classes and better myself as a musician. I attended my voice lessons and would try my hardest to achieve what my professor was asking of me, but would more often than not, leave my lesson in tears. I was constantly being torn down with no encouragement. I would practice for hours but could never be as good as I was expected. The thing that used to give me pure joy was now the reason I wanted to quit school.

As the semester went on, my anxiety grew and grew and grew. The thought of walking into my theory class gave me more fear than anything had ever given me before. I stopped going to class altogether and would give my assignments to my friends to turn in for me. I was constantly emailing my professors with excuses of why I wasn't in class and grew into such a deep depression that even the sight of my family couldn't cheer me up.

I decided that this was because I wasn't in any classes that had to do with music education, and that the next semester would be better. I ended the year with decent grades and traveled back home where I thought I would be stress-free for a summer.

Once again, I couldn't have been more wrong.

All summer, the only thing I could think about was how stressful the next 3 years of my life were going to be. Everyone kept telling me that college was supposed to be the best time of my life, but so far, it had been the absolute worst. I didn't know what I was doing wrong. I had made friends, I chose a major that I knew I wanted to do, but I had never hated my life more.

Two weeks before the fall semester, I had a mental break down. Not one of those little one's where you freak out for a few minutes and then it's over, one of the big ones. The one's where you go out driving because you don't know what else to do. The one's where you have cried so much that your face burns from all the salt. The one's that cause you to rethink your entire life and wonder if you want to continue to go on. It was that moment when I realized that all of this was caused by music.

For some reason, the thing that I have loved my entire life, the thing that had brought me so much job, the thing everybody knew I chose to pursue, had killed me inside.

So I drove home, logged on to my University's website, and switched my major to Hospitality and Tourism Management. I signed up for all new classes and ordered all new textbooks, and for the first time in a year, a weight was lifted off of my shoulders.

I moved back to school , and to say that I made a 180 switch would be an understatement. I was happier, I looked forward to going to class, and was more personable to everyone around me. For the first time in my life, I had perfect attendance in all of my classes and ended the semester with better grades than I had ever received.

Why did I write this? Well, when I tell people that I used to be a music major, the first words out of their mouth are usually "Oh yeah, I bet it was too hard." But that wasn't the case, I had better grades than most students and did struggle in my classes. It just wasn't for me, and people can't seem to understand that, but it isn't my job to make everyone believe that.

It has been over a year since I have sung in a professional setting, and I would be lying if I said I didn't miss it, but my happiness is more important that other's expectations of me. And to all of my music major friends, I believe in you and let the jury sheets be ever in your favor.