We are complex creatures… we want love but we fear it perhaps even more. For as long as I remember I have longed for intimacy and connection. Most people in my circle have longed for the same thing, often expressing that they want to be with someone that they can be themselves with, whatever that means. It’s hard to understand or even explain in a tangible sense what that looks like.
Being ourselves
What does ‘being ourselves’ look like, to have no layers? To have no obstacles? Often our significant other brings out a side in us that we didn’t know existed – a side of us that has been dormant. Perhaps this is the scariest part to losing intimacy and connection, it’s the sudden loss and the shift of not seeing that side of ourselves that we experience with the other.
Emotions you endure
Heartbreak is painful, heartbreak is rejection, and heartbreak feels like losing control of ourselves. I remember the first time I experienced a failed relationship, it felt like a part of me disappeared. There was so much pain that I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep and in many ways… I bathed in emotions of sorrow and pity. I would feed into it by retreating from those that cared about me, and interestingly enough, I relied on music to not only ease my pain but perpetuate it.
Jillian Rose Banks was a singer/songwriter that I would often rely on throughout my heartbreak. Her lyrics often mirrored unrequited love, emotionally abusive relationships and an overall cynical and manipulative persona of men. The melodies and rhythm of her music reflected this as well, through utilizing a lot of synths and haunting melodies.
“I’m thinking it over, the way you make me feel so sexy but its causing me shame. I wanna lean on your shoulder. I wish I was in love but I don’t want to cause any pain…I don’t want to say that love is a waiting game.” – Waiting Game, Banks

While I enjoyed listening to Banks, in hindsight it was not the healthiest choice to make because it would often reaffirm and highlight a one-sided depiction of my relationship. It would perpetuate the narrative of victimizing myself and making my partner the evil and manipulative person. Ultimately it prolonged my healing. This of course is not the fault of the musician, rather it is how my past experiences shaped the way I consumed her songs.
In my opinion music and heartbreak are correlated. But some songs can hinder healing, while other can speed up the process.
Until next time.
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