When I was 16, I lost my pink Razor flip phone and cried for a week...
What exactly does this have to do with writing my own music? Well, quite a bit actually… allow me to explain.
Okay, so I went to Adventure Land with my friends and by the end of the day, one of the best adventures of my life, quickly turned into my worst nightmare. We took one last ride on the bumper cars and when we got off, heads still spinning and giggling like crazy, I noticed my cell phone was gone. It must have fallen out of my pocket and into the arena where it suffered a bumper car induced death.
And I. Was. Devastated.
(Also, I’m well aware that this is such a first world problem, but hear me out.)
However, it wasn’t because that phone was perhaps the coolest phone to ever exist, it wasn’t even that it was my very first phone and I cherished that thing with all my heart. Sure, those factored into the hysterical tears. It was really the fact that I had recorded countless little snippets of songs that I hoped to one day finish and turn into something real, and now, they were gone forever.
I’ve been writing music for as long as I can remember, always just little fragments here and there, that never really went anywhere (or were tragically destroyed in the fiery pits of bumper car hell.) Maybe it was mourning the loss of all those forgotten songs, or maybe it was just that the older I got, the more my confidence in song writing began to wane.
You know how it is. You get into the habit of procrastinating, until your brain starts building up something so simple into a seemingly insurmountable task. We convince ourselves that if it hasn’t happened by now, it’ll probably never happen. We write that into the story of who we are, and so the dreams we held as children never become anything more.
I lacked confidence. I was certain that since I’d never learned to play any instruments, at 25, I was past the point in life that it would ever happen, could ever happen.
But a couple Christmases ago, everything changed. My sweet boyfriend gifted me with my first ever musical instrument of my own: a shiny brown ukulele.
That present single handedly launched me into a full blown love affair with music that had been lying dormant for far too long. Turns out, learning an instrument, isn’t all that hard. I wouldn’t say it’s easy, but it’s not nearly as hard as my brain told me it would be. And so, for the first time ever, I rewrote my story. I decided to properly finish a song, with music notes and everything! And who better to dedicate that song to, than the lovely man who believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.
So, because of Jeffy, I can say that after 25 years of procrastination, I officially wrote my first song, for him.
I’m not sure I’ll ever go back on the bumper cars again though.