Doing Sh*t that Scares Me: Taking Back the Music

I like to think of myself as a fairly confident and open person. But on the flip side, I am noticing I am constantly held back by self-doubt, over-thinking and worry that I waste far too much time focusing on. We live in a world where confidence can easily be crafted in a well-edited Instagram post, and happiness can be uploaded to a Facebook album with a witty title. To the naked eye I come across as bubbly and positive. When people tell me this I think to myself, that’s cute. Maybe I fail to vocalize my objections or maybe people just don’t know me well enough, but my life is far from easy and I do a lot more than just smile.

I recently started to reflect on my past three years at Elon and what I have accomplished thus far. I sat on my bed, opened up a dusty journal I’ve had for ages, and began sifting through memories of the past, only to find a page dated November 1st, 2015, reading “This month I will…”

Before my eyes was a thoughtful list of things I wanted to accomplish back when I was a sophomore, and reading this list blew me away. It included things like: Run a half marathon, paint at least once a week in Arts west, and most surprisingly, play your music at a gig or open mic night somewhere. I re-read the last line and stopped for a second, taking a moment to process it all. I glanced up from my bed to see my dusty guitar propped up on its stand where it has sat for the past few months.

Back in high school I played guitar so much that my left fingertips lost feeling from constantly pressing them down on steel strings to hold a chord. I would perform at every open mic night my town offered, practice rigorously through the night and  constantly share my music with friends and family. Now here I was completing my final year of college, supposedly more “in touch” with myself, staring at the one thing I used to love to do the most and realized that most of my friends at Elon don’t even know that I play guitar or love to sing. I realized that in the rare occasion that I do play, I close my door or turn on a loud fan, embarrassed that one of my seven roommates might hear me. How could I let something that was such a big part of my life slip away from me entirely?

The truth is, I don’t have a solid answer to that question, but I do know what I am going to do about it. Each day I have picked up my guitar and played just a little bit longer, days have turned into late nights writing music and Sundays are filled with practicing covers. I have decided to update my goal list from sophomore year and pick up where I left off, starting with participating in an open mic night at the Oak House the next possible chance I can get.

I am so sick of letting my personal self-doubt intrude on my passions and my happiness. I am done hiding my fears and vulnerability simply because I am skeptical of how my actions might appear to other people. People who you think you are friends will betray you, bad things happen to good people and sometimes people simply don’t care. But more often than this, there are people out there who will listen, people who want to listen. Life is too short to spend your time with people who don’t take the time to get to know you and inspire your passions.