If my year had a soundtrack, I believe ‘Clean’ from Taylor Swift’s 1989 would be featured. In September 2020, the trajectory of my life completely changed when I was diagnosed with gastroparesis, postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS), and reactive hypoglycemia. I went from being an average outgoing teenage girl to being known as the “sick kid”. I went from practicing guitar in my bedroom, to sitting in waiting rooms and doctor’s offices after school. I went from spending my weekends with friends to spending my weekdays driving to Maria Fareri’s Children’s Hospital. In an attempt to distract myself from the dreadful appointments, I would listen to Taylor Swift as much as I could. I would ask the nurses to put on ‘Shake It Off’ as I would get my blood drawn, and was rolled into an operating room singing along to ‘Long Live’. I grew up listening to Taylor Swift’s music. I know every word of every song by heart. Her authentic encouragement to lean on music when life feels unmanageable inspired me to do the same. Taylor Swift wrote the song ‘Clean’ by comparing getting over a harsh heartbreak to finding sobriety. Yet, there are several different ways that her fans interpret the song, associating ‘Clean’ with the cleansing from their own mental or physical health issues, trauma or loss. For me, ‘Clean’ has served as a way to understand that I am not defined by my chronic illnesses, my health issues, or the tough situations I have faced. This year, as a senior in high school, I have been faced with the nagging fear of if I will be able to keep up in college. What-ifs constantly swirl in my head. Will I be able to live on my own and manage my illnesses? Will I be able to have a normal college experience? Will I have the strength to continue in my academic achievements? Yet, I have learned throughout this year to hang onto the lyrics of ‘Clean’ whenever I find myself longing for any kind of hope. The several metaphors and vivid imagery used, such as “the rain came pouring down when I was drowning, that’s when I could finally breathe”, have been permanently tattooed on my heart as a reminder to keep going even in the darkest of moments. It has become my anthem of perseverance and determination that will forever ring through my ears. It will be the lyrics plastered on my dorm room walls, reminding me that I can find faith even in my despair. Taylor Swift unknowingly entered my life and not only influenced my passion for music but taught me lessons through her songwriting. ‘Clean’ has inspired me the most because of its powerful message that whatever happens to you does not need to define you. Through Taylor Swift’s lyricism, I have learned how to truly live life even in my pain. I have learned how to become renewed again, even when I feel suffocated by darkness. I have learned to look forward to the better days ahead. Although I may never fully reach a recovery from my chronic illnesses, ‘Clean’ has reminded me that it is never too late to become brand new.

In September of 2020, the trajectory of my life completely changed when I was diagnosed with gastroparesis, postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS), and reactive hypoglycemia. I went from being an average outgoing teenage girl to being known as the “sick kid”. I went from practicing guitar in my bedroom, to sitting in waiting rooms and doctor’s offices after school. I went from spending my weekends with friends to spending my weekdays driving to Maria Fareri’s Children’s Hospital. In an attempt to distract myself from the dreadful appointments, I began to use all of my feelings -my exhaustion, anxiety, confusion- as material and inspiration to write my own songs. I quickly fell in love with songwriting and how I could express my most vulnerable feelings poetically. The intricate word choice and phrasing were like a puzzle that fueled my desire to write melodies wherever and whenever possible. Songwriting motivated me to get through the most challenging and darkest point of my life. When life felt too heavy, I could pour my feelings into a song, turning my dark, negative feelings into a beautiful melody. Songwriting shined a light to heal the loss of who I once was. The ability to express the pain I was feeling through words in a melody, ignited a spark inside of me that I believe ultimately saved my life. Reflecting on my life since 2020, I have realized that my diagnosis had ultimately furthered my love of music and pushed me to do things I would have never done in my life before having chronic illnesses. My resilience has given me the courage to share my music with others. My determination has given me the strength to fall in love with performing on stage in front of others. My positivity has allowed me to have a better outlook on the world. Although the struggles I have faced have caused me to bare physical and mental pain, it has also given me the gift of learning to turn that pain into something useful. Strangely, I have come to realize that I am grateful for my chronic illnesses. Although they have changed me as a person, they have taught me to look on the brighter side of life, to live boldly, and to hold onto the people and things that truly matter to me. Chronic illnesses radically change every aspect of who you are as a person. One minute, you’re lively, full of energy, and free to do whatever you want with a body that supports you. Next, you’re exhausted and aching, an anxious and lethargic teenager. You watch your friends and family grapple to understand and struggle to conceal their feelings about your illness. Those who are fortunate enough not to understand chronic illnesses insist that you’re okay - that you’re being dramatic, that you’re young so it’ll be fine, or that you “appear” too healthy to be so sick. When your world has been radically altered like this, it is overwhelming. Playing music, listening to other great musicians, and writing my songs have given me the strength to transform my fears, my insecurities, and my pain into something powerful and productive. Where medicine heals my body, music has wholly healed my soul.