Listening to music has been my companion in life ever since I could remember. My love for music can be traced to my mother, who has also been passionate about many kinds of music all throughout her life. This can then be traced all the way back to my grandfather, who had a huge collection of vinyl CDs (which I wish I could see now!) and would play popular bands such as Fleetwood Mac when my mother was a child. You get the idea—love for music has been in my family for a while. Although it may seem pretentious, I always had the feeling that I felt music differently than others. During my younger teenage years, while my peers raved about the most popular Rap or Pop artists, I listened to artists like The 1975, Foo Fighters, or The Script—a mix of artists I grew up with and ones I loved during that time. As cringeworthy as that sounds, my 14-year old self really thought that made her better than everyone else (don't look at me like that, being 14 is embarrassing for everyone!). Luckily, I have moved past that and am able to enjoy all kinds of music. As long as it sounds good, I'm game! My biggest advice to anyone like my younger self: don't be afraid to embrace your inner pop music lover! Music has been the getaway I have needed whenever my anxiety would get the better of me or if I really just needed an escape from my thoughts. My absolute favorite part of music is that it really is made for everyone and everything. Whenever I become angry at the world (or at my mind), I put on my favorite high-intensity rock songs. They provide the much needed release during those moments. Whenever I'm in the car with my friends, we put on our favorite pop songs from our childhood and scream our hearts out to the lyrics. This is the beauty of music: it is truly timeless. If there is a world out there without music, I would never want to live in it. Music is in almost every part of my daily life. I listen to it in the shower, when I'm walking to class, while I'm cleaning my dorm, when I'm cooking dinner for my sister, and when I'm simply just napping in a hammock. Without music, life would be terribly quiet. And while quiet can be good sometimes, it can also make life awfully dull too. My current belief is that music is inherently connected to happiness. So if you're feeling down, maybe think to put on your favorite comforting song for a symbolic hug. Or, if you simply feel alone, ask for music recommendations from just anyone. You wouldn't believe how many would love to tell you their favorite song. My current go-to: Cupid De Locke by The Smashing Pumpkins!

“I swear it’s all so stupid,” my relative laughs as he eats his dinner. “It’s like they keep adding another letter every month. I mean LG...ABCXYZ...what else?” he says with a mocking expression. I was hurt, but not surprised. The loud laughter following his statement echoes around the table, almost like ghouls sneering in my ears. I don’t smile as I leave, even as it follows me out of the room. My sister looks at me sympathetically, as we both move to sit in a different room. It’s Thanksgiving, and yet another homophobic joke occurs. Imagine this scene, but every year. Such has been my life ever since I could remember. My family has no idea that during my sophomore year, I had recognized that I was not as heterosexual as I had previously thought I was. At first, I felt like I had disappointed my parents in some way; I had tainted the image of who I was supposed to be. Was being bisexual wrong? Disgusting? I was lost in self-doubt. There was such a lack of exposure to diversity in my small town that I couldn’t even begin to accept that I was different. However, once I had begun to explore on the internet, I found stories similar to mine. People who were different while also living in a conservative leaning home. Although this had helped, I didn’t start to accept myself until one particular moment. That moment being my own sister coming out to me—which had made me finally embrace that my attraction was not just subjected to men. After that, my growth in self-confidence and self-acceptance grew tremendously. I didn’t have to push down my attraction to the same gender because of society’s rules, and I didn’t have to marry a man in the future because of what social rules dictate. So why couldn’t my family see that too? My story is just one in a million of others who are struggling. LGBT+ individuals are one of the most marginalized groups of people in history: being harassed, beaten, and killed just for being who they are. LGBT+ youth are a group significantly at risk, stuck under households that could very well harm them for being true to themselves. Now, this might seem like something of the past to some, but they represent very real situations. Young people just like me who are in danger. I want to be able to change this perception. Perspectives like the ones my family hold. Maybe once I come out, my family might not feel so much disgust at LGBT+ people. Maybe if they can learn to accept and love me, they can learn to be loving towards others as well. If I’m able to change the minds of my family, maybe I’ll be able to help change others as well. Since I plan on going into the field of psychology, I will have an opportunity to help through therapy. If I become a therapist that specializes in mental health and youth, I will be able to extend a helping hand to LGBT+ youth who are struggling. I want to be able to tell people like me that they are fine just the way they are, and they are not as disgusting or wrong as society tells them. Through therapy, I will be able to provide opportunities for stories of tragedy to turn into stories of self-acceptance and happiness. I want the opportunity to allow this to happen. It will take a lot of effort, and a lot of time too, but I have hope that we can do better.

Imagine that quiet and weird kid in your middle school, with their head always buried in a book or something of the like. You might not have understood them or thought they were strange. But really, they were probably only lonely. I was that kid. When you start being separated from the few friends that you have, you find yourself trying to find an outlet for that loneliness. For me, that was DC Comics. I found the world of superheroes to be fascinating and inspiring, but also very real. These characters were heroes, yes, but they were also screwed up and had problems just like me. It was something of a comforting fact to read that yes, Superman, an otherworldly being, was lonely too. I could highlight other reasons DC comics have been such an influential part of my life but I think it's right to leave it at this.