We all have dreams. I should really be punished for opening up a blog post with that cliché statement, but I’m not wrong, am I? We all have dreams. Since I was eight years old, I was convinced that I wanted to be a singer. It lasted at least a decade, and transformed with age, but the dream was still there. There’s any number of reasons why it didn’t happen. I didn’t deserve it, for one. I wasn’t good enough, I didn’t work hard enough, I must not have wanted it badly enough. I let fear and uncertainty get in the way. How could I let other people hear my voice when I was unsatisfied with it myself? How could they love something I hated? How could I passionately create music with a voice I hadn’t yet perfected? When all of the instruments were in tune, but it was my voice that felt out of place?
The concern that I didn’t have a voice worthy of being put on a pedestal also transformed over the years. It transformed into attacks on my character, my work ethic, a desperation for someone to hear what I was hearing and, when it seemed they finally did, the disappointing knowledge that I was right all along.
I almost gave up on being a singer when I graduated high school (at the very least, I told everyone I had). After all, being a singer required hard work and dedication. It required forwardness, a bold personality, and the strength of the gods. Basically, it took everything that I didn’t have to be what I wanted to be.
Clearly, I was going through some things.
But I honestly love singing. I love playing instruments. I love music. And after experiencing playing in what was almost a band with people that I connected with, it became more than just a want. It could easily become addictive. Lately, it’s starting to matter less and less how worthy I feel, or what pedestals I’m put on or what pedestals I fall off of, even if it’s my own. When you have a passion, there’s no such thing as ‘worthy’.
Keep doing what you love, and do it with all that you’ve got.