Music in the Coming of Age in a Strict, Christian, Old-School Household
I remember feeling music to be my only method of escape from the endless ocean of pain that was my life as a young teen. As I floated through each day of eighth grade, ninth grade, and then the tenth, music was always my number one choice of medicine. Alas, during those years, life was truly a hard journey, indeed. I mean, between the eighth-grade science and the not knowing how to talk to my crush and the stuffing the back of my pants to make my butt look bigger because I wanted to look like the new girl all the boys in my pod were drooling over (yes I did this), I could see how the teen pressures got to me. I also vividly remember that I wholeheartedly believed my taste in music to be a gift to mankind, albeit the more grungy and alternative percentage of mankind. Quite a bit of my early teenage years is actually pretty much blocked from my memory because...duh. But the bits and pieces that still stick out to me like a sore thumb all have songs and emotions associated with them, which is basically perfect for this situation. Let's jump in at the beginning, shall we?
