For the last two years, I have attended several concerts. In many of them, I was able to drag someone with me, but I also lost count of how many I enjoyed it by myself. Not having a loved one sharing that experience with me didn’t make much difference as I always felt very connected to the artists I listen to.
Music always had this special place in my heart that nothing else ever occupied. I always saw it as something too magic to be sharing the same space as my other passions.
The truth is: I grew up in a very pessimist environment. Not one single person in my life supported my dreams back then. It was confusing and scary and I relied a lot on my favorite music artists for strength. I would listen to their albums over and over again until I was able to get out of my room and face the world pretending I was not the good insecure 15-year-old I actually was.
When no one else was there, they were.
When I was laying in my bed staring at the ceiling at 3:00 a.m., I would listen to "Asleep" by The Smiths knowing they understood my desire to not "wake up on my own anymore."
When I was getting ready for an important volleyball match, I would put "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen on repeat for almost two hours. To today, that song can give me the courage to do anything.
When tears from a pain I was yet to understand kept pushing my earphones out of my ears, I would listen to Lana Del Rey telling me that "love is mean, and love hurts," and that would feel like a reassurance that I was going to be ok.
When I was feeling heartbroken with the world, I would listen to the whole The 1975 album hoping they would remind me to only raise my voice for the things that actually matter. Not once they failed me.
Music is like therapy to my heart, and God knows how much I need it. When no one else was there, music was; my idols were. So why it isn't socially acceptable to come to this concert alone?
For so long their voices were the only ones I would listen to, so if I don't feel miserable for standing here by myself, with my eyes closed, singing along with a few of my favorite people in the world, you shouldn't feel it for me.
Music does take you to other places, but music can also help you find where you belong. It can show you where to go, but it can make you love where you are.
I might be a loser for being here tonight, staring at my phone before the concert starts because I have no one to talk to, but I rather be this loser who is comfortable enough with who I am to go out by myself, than someone who looks down on others for their struggle to socialize.
