The death of a celebrity is always an odd event to digest because often times, above almost anyone else, they can deeply impact our lives, yet we don't actually know them (unless your parents are rich or something). David Bowie's passing filled me with a sadness I hardly recognized, as I'd never thought much about celebrity death before. However, I found myself spending that whole day with a hole in my chest, conscious not to let a tear slip in public -- how strange it felt to know such an incredible human being was gone.

I'm sure you've all read enough articles about him already, discussing how big an impact he had on various sects of our modern world, but for me, those things are secondary as to why I love the rock god.

My David Bowie moment came in high school -- a place (at least at mine) where it was simply not OK to let it be known you're a Bowie fan without the "appropriate" genital situation. Now, I must note that back then, when I was 16 or so, my self-esteem/confidence was actually in the negatives. There was simply no way for me to feel OK with telling people I listened to a dude who looked and acted like Bowie, as shameful as that is to chronicle.

I remember when that changed, though. I was in the weight room (not by choice, but for a required course), trying desperately to force my feeble little arms to lift the dumbbells, when “Rebel Rebel” came on the radio. I made sure not to bob my head too much, lest the savages notice. Then, when I looked around, I saw this big meat-heady-looking dude off in the corner absolutely rocking out and mouthing the words, and I thought, “You know, if this guy (who, of course was incredibly popular due to his sportsing) can be proud of jamming to a makeup-wearing, cross-dressing, simply weird rock star, why do I feel so weird about it?” So I bobbed my head, like a rebel rebel myself, and felt damn good about it.

It’s not much of a moment, really, but for someone with incredibly low self-esteem and social anxiety, it was monumental at the time to see a popular football player like the same song I did, in a place where music taste could get you ridiculed by the right people; and that’s what Bowie was about, I think: putting yourself out there and being the crazy, creepy, odd person that you are with pride. I can’t think of a greater man to have made some of the best music rock has ever seen, and I know that every time I think of his death, probably for the rest of my life, I’ll have to fight away a tear.