Being in the last year of my undergraduate degree, I often think about what the future holds and try my best to stay in tune with who I am at the core. Spotify has a curated playlist, “Repeat Rewind,” which collects songs that I consistently listened to in the past. Looking through it, I can very clearly recall the person I was when these songs were played. In a way, that’s what music is for me: an auditory time capsule of who I am at different stages of my life.Â
Music has played an important role in my life. My first memory of life relates to music; I was in the living room with my dad, waiting for my mom to come home from work and listening to the radio. “Umbrella” by Rihanna was playing, and my mom walked through the door, and we started singing along. Music brings my family together and connects me to the closest people in my life.Â
The first notes of a song transport me back to different stages in my life. I can remember hearing “Honeymoon Avenue” by Ariana Grande for the first time, which introduced me to her music and led me to follow her discography years later.
I still count down the days to new albums dropping with my cousins, who helped me find music that spoke to me. Â
I also grew up performing, which helped strengthen my relationship with sound. I played piano for nine years, did vocal training for two, and spent many years doing karaoke with my family. Not only does listening to music impact my life, but performing and sharing music with others also feels fulfilling.Â
High school is definitely when I started to feel the music I listened to shape me into the person I am. I began exploring genres, finding new artists and sharing them with my friends. I remember listening to Drake’s Views in elementary school for the first time, then years later listening to it in high school and almost hearing him in a different way.Â
I remember being in the halls dancing on TikTok to new songs and adding them to my playlist because they reminded me of my friends. Something about connecting memories with songs feels so personal. Little moments triggered by music make me feel protective of what I listen to.Â
When I hear Whitney Houston, I can hear my mom singing along and looking at me as she sings. Listening to Journey sends goosebumps down my spine because I remember my dad singing their songs in the living room. Even now, when I listen to albums, I can see the person I was not too long ago and remember how these lyrics and sounds once helped me heal.Â
CTRL by SZA brings me back to the pandemic, being alone in my room and listening to her when I felt scared and unsure of myself. This album has held up so well; when I feel down or doubtful about what’s going on in my life, I feel seen by her. The music I listen to validates my feelings. I love that when an artist sings lyrics, it could mean one thing to them but something else to me.Â
As I power through one more year of school, I can feel a big chapter of my life ending. I recently revisited a playlist I made in my first year, and all I can think about is how much has changed. I hear songs like “Someday We’ll Know” by Little Rascals and feel so emotional thinking about how unsure I was as I was taking on this new part of life. Or I hear the Wallows and Clairo sing “Are You Bored Yet?” and be transported back to sitting in the park with my friends, painting and laughing as summer came to an end.Â
I am so excited and nervous for university to come to an end. There is so much left to do in my life, yet so much of it is unknown. I find that both scary and beautiful.
As I make playlists now, I think about how I will listen to them differently in five years and how much will change. One thing I know for certain is that my music is my safe place — I know that new songs will come and go, and this space will grow to tell stories of my life.Â
Music is what keeps me stable and grounded. It has never failed to calm me down in storms of stress and fear. It hypes me up when I am excited and happy. Music has always been, and will forever be, my ride-or-die.Â