Last spring, I had to give an informative speech in my public speaking class about something I was both well-educated on and passionate about. Naturally, I chose something music-oriented: my favorite band, twenty one pilots. For several minutes, I went into a detailed explanation of the band's origins, members, discography, genre and so forth -- but not before I opened with, "Has anyone ever heard of twenty one pilots?" In a class filled with thirty college students, the only responses I received were multiple blank stares and one "I think I know that song about the car and the radio."

A year later, those same classmates have played "Tear In My Heart" while sitting on the quad, tweeted the lyrics to "Stressed Out" during finals week and have personally approached me to say that I was the one to launch their obsession. The handful of times this happened, I responded back with the most convincing smile I could muster. Sure, I'm glad that my speech had its desired effect, but every time I hear someone new talk about the band, I can't seem to tune out that nagging voice in the back of my head saying, "but they were yours first."

Perhaps it seems silly or selfish. In fact, I know it is. It's as if I'm trapped in a Myspace-era state of mind, where posers were the bane of everyone's existence. But the thing is: I can't help but feel overly protective and possessive of something that means so much to me.

Don't get me wrong: twenty one pilots' recent success and surge in popularity is phenomenal, and I honestly couldn't be more proud of them. More and more people are using their songs as an outlet, a remedy and an inspiration. At the same time, I've seen more and more people being drawn to their catchy riffs yet criticizing their "weird" and "depressing" lyrics. It's not a crime to only like a song for the sound; I understand that. I do. But what I don't understand is how people, whether intentional or not, can belittle something so meaningful and important to others.

This band has sparked the most indescribable feeling in me that nothing else has ever been able to do before. It’s this overwhelming sensation, almost, that swells up in my chest as I feel the emotion and energy behind their lyrics, their messages and everything they stand for. It consumes me in the best way possible until all I can do is sit there, both stunned and captivated, and think that this has to be what purpose feels like. This band has accompanied me through too dark of nights and welcomed me into fresh starts, embodying hope throughout it all. They constantly remind me of what it feel like to be alive, to which I'm unbelievably grateful for. So if I ever seem a bit defensive or wary of their growing presence in the spotlight, it's only because I can't let that feeling be ruined by those that don't understand.

I don't want to seem pretentious. At one point, I was a new fan, too. I had no idea that this band would become as important to me as they did. But as territorial as I may feel at times, this band is not mine - and that's the most powerful, inspiring thing about them. They're the collective effort of hope on one's life, which then affects another's, then another's, and so on. No matter how big twenty one pilots grows to be, I hope people never forget what they're about. And above all, I hope they never stop using this band and these songs for the right reasons.

I know I won't.