Since my youth, music has been an important part of my life. I have been an avid listener, musician, and student of the theory behind it and, to me, it has more power than any mixture of words or gestures. No matter what mood I am in there is some lyric or melody that reaches me and knowing that, in music, I can always find support is one of the biggest comforts in my life. Music has been the one thing that has been there for me just as a friend would be, to offer me an outlet for my happiness, my rage, my sadness, when I feel like no one I know can possibly understand me.
When I was four I first began to really appreciate music. My mother forced me into piano lessons and all I did was complain and repeatedly whine “It’s too hard.” For at least the first month I refused to even set foot near our piano at home unless my mother was threatening to ground me, to which I responded with yelling and tantrums. As time went on I eventually learned that instead of using my voice to scream my hatred of the piano, I could pound out my anger on the keys. This was the first time I began to think that maybe music was not all bad because it gave me a different outlet for my voice.
As I began playing music, beautiful melodies, happy tunes, and sad, melancholy songs, my appreciation grew and I learned to love music because of its ability to capture a range of emotions, though at the time I could have hardly explained it as such. Soon, I began to devour music as often as I could. By the age of eight I was a notorious radio station surfer who always had to find music that described how I felt. I honestly felt that if I was happy I wanted everyone else in the car to know it by the music I chose.
Later on as the troublesome pre-teen and teen years started, I, along with all the other kids I knew growing up, began experiencing new emotions such as rebelliousness and heartache as never before. As my mind and body began to change and things I could not control began to happen, music was there to help guide me with lyrics that reassured me what I was feeling was normal.
Music was an outlet for my happiness when I was asked out for the first time. I remember I was so excited that day I went home and listened to my favorite happy band at the time, B*Witched, for hours and then preceded to sing in the shower.
Music was there to comfort me when my dad got sick. I remember how hurt and angry I was at him. He was supposed to be the strong one of my parents, always there and forever invincible. I felt I had no one to turn to, no one to talk to about how I felt, so I turned to music. For a full week I refused to listen to anything but harsh, angry metal music, screaming with it at times to let my feelings out.
Music was there to relax me the many times when I felt my life was too out of my control and stressful. The soothing classical tunes from Mozart and Chopin were my favorite stress relievers, and still continue to be, as the melodies of the music are much too beautiful to do anything but relax.
Music, time and again, continues to be a good friend to help me get through what ever is going on in my life and I know it always will be. Music is a constant: no matter what happens or how I change, listening to music always offers its lyrics and melodies for comfort.
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