Thanks to You, Louis, I Made It
"But with Louis, things were different. I wasn’t just attached to music, I was attached to the person."
I’m a 20-year-old, full-time student and elementary school teacher’s aide. I am both driven and hardworking, stubborn and hellbent, but there’s one adjective that I never thought I’d use to describe myself, and that is “struggling.” I’m not particularly a fan of the word. For the majority of my life, at least up until I decided to change it for myself, “struggling” meant that I was failing. It meant that I wasn’t doing what I needed to do to be the best version of myself. It wasn’t until a full breakdown finally drilled something in me that I needed to know all along—a struggle doesn’t mean failure; it’s an opportunity for undeniable growth.
I was in the middle of this that I clung to Louis Tomlinson’s music more than ever. It wasn’t something as simple as loving a melody or getting a lyric stuck in my head for days and days on end. It was more complex than that. My love for Louis in the darkest moments of my life had far more layers than that. You see, I’ve been a fan of music all my life. I’ve always attached a soundtrack to every emotion I’ve ever experienced. It’s how I coped with all the horrific and joyously beautiful things that life has ever thrown at me. But with Louis, things were different. I wasn’t just attached to music, I was attached to the person. I was attached to how his voice sounded at three in the morning when tears were streaming down my face. I was attached to the way his eyes glistened in the dark. I was attached to the way he throws his head back when he laughs, or the way he smiles unconsciously out of habit, like it's something he’ll do forever.
Music was the bonus in this case. That wasn’t what held me together at my lowest. It was him. It wasn’t until I came out of this dark place that I realized that fully. When I was low, believe me, I was low. There was no one in the world who could pick me up out of that place other than him. That might sound silly to some, but for someone who was actually, truly saved by this man she’s never met, it isn’t silly—it’s remarkable. It’s remarkable that a man I’ve never talked to a day in my life had that extraordinary effect on me. It’s remarkable that I can be instantly calmed by the first key on a piano, or the sound of genuine laughter. It’s remarkable that I can call him my safe place, my refuge, my anchor.
Thanks to Louis, I made it.
I made it through the 3 AM tears that haunted me every single night for years.
I made it through my inner voice telling me every single day that I couldn’t do all the things I wanted to.
I made it through all the self doubt, the worry, the anxiety that nothing I would ever do would be good enough.
I made it through the panic attacks, the tense muscles, the tears that spilled often times, without me even realizing it.
I made it through it all, Louis. All because you were there to help me.
You were there with your smile that undoubtedly managed to paint one on me as well.
You were there with music that drove out my nightmares.
You were there with eyes that connected with mine like you’d known me forever.
You were there, Louis William Tomlinson, whether you realized it or not. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done. You’ve given me my life back.
Thanks to you, Louis, I made it.