I’ve never been “musically gifted.” Regardless of how many voice lesson’s I took, I was never going to be the next Celine Dion. No matter how many times I tried, I was never going to master the Ukulele- the supposedly easiest instrument in the world. However, despite my complete lack of musicality, I have fallen helplessly in love with music.
My father took me to my first concert when I was in the 3rd grade. I stood in the pit, surrounded by other dedicated Hilary Duff fans. I sang. I danced and I forgot about the world.
Fast forward thirteen years and I believe my father is regretting the monster he created.
Music has this way of bringing you back to a single moment in life. There is that song that my best friend and I played on repeat on our way to Winstar last summer. Every time it comes on the radio, I’m back in the passenger seat- windows down, stereo up, screaming the lyrics on the top of my lungs.
There’s that song that reminds me of a boy who once hurt my heart, and a song that brings back wonderful memories of my day’s on the stage.
A few weeks ago, I was sitting in Dallas traffic. There had been an accident and my thirty minute commute had turned into a two hour battle. I sat there, with anxiety through the roof. I put my car in park, grabbed my iPhone and turned on the Spice Girls. Before I knew it, I had escaped. I may have been sitting in traffic, surrounded by angry commuters, but I was singing and dancing in my own little world. As I sang and danced to Wannabe, I looked over to see a suit and tie wearing man smiling back at me from ear to ear. He mouthed “great dancing” and before I could even get embarrassed he broke out his best jazz hands and began dancing along with me. That is the moment I realized how truly powerful music is. Within moments it had completely improved my mood and transformed my morning.
This is why I love going to concerts. Wheather I’m on the floor at a Taylor Swift concert, watching Ed Sheeran rock out on the guitar, dancing along to Jonathan Tyler, or standing in a mosh pit at a James Bay and George Ezra show, I find myself in pure bliss. There is something magical about concerts. Thousands of people, singing and dancing together. Everyone has different stories, different backgrounds, different struggles… but for that hour and half we all forget about the past, forget about the stresses of the world and live in that perfect moment.
When my dad brought me to my first concert in 3rd grade, I doubt he ever thought that at age 22 I would be calling into radio stations to win concert tickets and finding free shows to fill my weekends.
This is why I can say, without a doubt that I have fallen in love with music. It is an escape, a time capsule, and I can’t imagine the world without it.