I Love Music, But…

I never expected to fall in love with a country song.

In high school, we used to make fun of them – I can sing along, and I’ve never heard this before. Ha ha ha. What can I say? We were stupid high school kids out in the country where there wasn’t a lot to entertain us. There wasn’t a lot of music variety either. Thinking back, I have to say that our local stations probably weren’t playing the most interesting stuff. We definitely didn’t think so.

Long story short, I didn’t get the best impression of country music growing up.

So when a friend told me that I needed to listen to “The House That Built Me,”  I was pretty skeptical. I mostly listened to humor her. For those of you who don’t know, the song is about going back to the house you grew up in to try to find yourself again. And after listening to it once, I absolutely fell in love. 100% in love. Something about this song really, really speaks to me.

I think part of it is how lost I’ve felt the past few years. I used to feel so safe and secure at home growing up. I didn’t even know how stable I was because I’d never felt any other way. And I wish I could go back to that. I wish I could go back to believing in myself, in my world. I wish I still had a home where I could go inside and feel whole.

But I don’t.

I don’t have a home. I have a place where I live. The home I spent my childhood in is gone, and so are my childhood ideas of the world. I remember them. But I can’t believe in them blindly like I used to.

Listening to that song makes me feel like I’m not alone in that. Someone else feels the same way. And so, I absolutely love it. Who’d have thought?

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