Music to My Ears

Several years ago, I admitted in front of a friend that I didn’t care for the music of a rather popular musician. I didn’t say I hated their stuff. I didn’t say it was bad. I said nothing other than it didn’t resonate with me.

This friend turned to me and said, “I feel sorry for you.”

The comment took me aback for a moment, but then I said, “There’s no reason to be.” I have plenty of music that brings me joy. That can put me in a good mood. That I can listen to when I’m feeling down. That I can sing to when I’m driving and feeling tired.

Music is such a personal thing. It’s a personal taste. What resonates with one person isn’t necessarily going to resonate with another. And that’s ok. There’s no reason to feel sorry for me. I don’t need all music to resonate with me – I just need to find the songs and musicians that do.

I do understand that people get so attached to the things that bring them joy that it can be hard to see how someone else could possibly not get joy from it. I get it because I’ve been there – felt that sinking feeling where you hand over a song, which has become a piece of you, and someone else says, ‘Meh.’ It can feel like a personal attack on our self.

It’s the same with books. I hate recommending books I really love to people because it again feels like, ‘Here’s a little piece of my soul, I hope you like it.’

I’m trying to keep this in mind as I’m about to launch my second book. Not everyone is going to love it. Or like it, for that matter. But that’s ok (I keep telling myself – eventually it will sink in). No one story is for everyone. My stories are not for everyone. My only hope is that people are honest with me about it.

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