Dreamers Can Dream

"She's gonna be famous one day," my Grandma said in the front seat, as she turned back to look at me, two years old, humming myself to sleep. At five years old, I found myself behind the piano with my older sister's beginners book. They thought I was too young to play, so I taught myself! A briefcase full of scattered pieces of paper, all of which included love song lyrics that I starting writing as soon as I began talking.

"She's gonna be famous one day," my Mom said, as she overlooked me playing with my baby dolls, singing them to sleep.

I aspired to be Hilary Duff. Stockings filled with her CD’s every Christmas, and an unhappy six year old, when I didn’t receive the outfit she wore in The Lizzie McGuire movie.

“I’m gonna be famous one day,” I told myself, hairbrush in hand, behind locked doors, singing in the mirror.

I am not famous, clearly, and I am not Hilary Duff. However, music is as important to me then, as it is now. After I showed my sister’s piano teacher what I had learned, she had no choice but to give me lessons. A few years later, I picked up guitar. And although my love songs were about my love for my baby dolls, or my love for my parents, writing music has continued.

While my siblings may be great writers, or athletes, music is the only thing that has come easy for me and the one thing that is mine. High School can be a cruel and scary place. I believe one song has the ability to affect an individual’s day or change one’s mood in an instant. A song’s lyrics are capable of reaching out to someone when that person needs reassurance or strength. I use music as an escape and as a way to express myself. I will never be famous, but dreamers can dream!