It’s just a song, it’s just a song, it’s just a song.
That’s what you tell yourself. You repeat this in your head over and over again as this particular melody circulates through the air around you and pulses in and out of your eardrums like a jackhammer. If you’re around others, you pretend it’s nothing. If you’re alone, you fight turning the song off, and most of the time, succumb. You try to convince yourself that, yes, it is just a song.
But it’s not to you.
I’ve learned that both pain and fear can be incredibly blinding. So much that it can manipulate you to change to way you act or feel about something.
But you don’t have to feel this way if you don’t want to. You also most certainly don’t have to stop liking something, like a song, because you’re scared of the pain it brings you. Or the place it brings you back to.
You have the power to figure out, for yourself, what makes you happy, what doesn’t, and what gets in the way of this. You have the right to love what you love, feel how you feel, and become strong enough to do so.
I will no longer let myself change the radio station when my favorite songs come on. I’ve been very guilty of this in the past. The reasons differ: a bad memory, a painful goodbye, a reminder of a person that used to sing along with me, maybe even a good memory that is missed too heavily. I will no longer wince, then quickly hit shuffle when I hear the first few notes or beats.
I will not give it the power to hurt me anymore. I deserve to relish in the harmonies it chimes out without negatively linking them to something in my past. I will no longer let anyone or anything have that much control over me.
We think that the pain will go away if we change the song fast enough, but we all know that’s not how to stop the pain from coming back. You can’t live life in avoidance. To stop the pain from coming back, you have to face your pain and your fears head on. You have to feel every emotion there is, letting the fear of being vulnerable leave you. You have to let yourself be human.
As John Green once said, “That’s the thing about pain. It demands to be felt.” Let your emotions remind you that you’re alive, that you feel, that you have a beating, working, dynamic heart.
It’s time for the people scared of the songs that used to bring them so much joy to embrace them with open arms once again.
Let yourself heal; let yourself feel. Let the wind blow in your face, windows down, on your long drive to nowhere with that song blasted full volume. Feel yourself become stronger as you belt out every lyric with the passion inside you, your bitter thoughts left behind you at the last red light.
Sing with confidence the lyrics that have had the capability to send pangs of anger and sadness through you in the past. Don’t let them this time. Instead let them remind you why you fell in love with the song and how much joy it has brought you.
Let the notes flow out of your vocal chords, off tune, embracing the pain that you’ve overcame, the people that you have loved and lost, the wonderful memories you have made.
Songs are supposed to make you feel things. That’s their job. And whether you like it or not, you are going to feel things. Take that on. Use it in your favor. Embrace your big heart and your ability to feel whatever emotions come your way.
Music is beautiful. Let it consume you, but in the right ways. Never should you have to sever an affection with something you are fond of. I refuse to, and you should too.
I dare you to strip away the pain, the fear, and the barriers, and decide what makes you truly happy. I dare you to keep the song on. You deserve that. You deserve the world.
And remember: it’s just a song.