On this blog, I have talked quite a bit about music, particularly my favorite queer musicians and how deeply in love with Taylor Swift I am and what impact they have all had on me. One facet I have yet to explore on here, however, is the interconnections between music and identity, mostly because I have only recently been challenged to think about this connection in terms of the development of my own identity and the significance of music towards that. As I have grown into and keep growing into my identity and who I am, the extent to which I share my music with those around me has been synonymous with comfort and understanding I have of myself.
1989 Album Cover
The first album that I ever loved so much that it shaped part of who I am was 1989 by Taylor Swift. One of my childhood friends convinced me to listen to it and love it, but I remember when often being ridiculed by my family for the music, claiming it was not good and questioning why I listened to it. From then on, I loved the album only in secret, listening only with myself and never telling any friends beyond the one who introduced me how important the album was. At the same time, I was starting to have some vague questions about my identity, not inherently relating to my sexuality, but just with who I feel like I am. While it may have been silly, the denial of listening to the music that was important to me and having it ridiculed really harmed the extent to which I felt I could share myself with my family. It also made me ashamed to like Taylor Swift, and I didn’t listen to any of her following albums.
Fast forward a few years, and the sheer uncertainty of who I am has grown exponentially as I navigate messy high school experiences. Throughout the time since 1989 and the time I am talking about, my music moments had included What if Nothing by Walk the Moon (same band as Shut Up and Dance with Me), an AJR phase (yes, they are a little weird – but some of their music is good and quite meaningful), and a big Beatles moment (the entirety of my sophomore year of high school. I shared none of this music with those around me, but welcomed when others shared their music with me, which was pretty symbolic of me hiding to everyone around me.
A meme that I do relate to
Fast forward a little more to quarantine 2020. During this time, I was in the trenches of questioning my sexuality and part of how I navigated that was consuming as much LGBTQ+ media as possible – movies, TV shows, YouTube channels. By the end of the summer, I was pretty confident that I was a lesbian, but music was the final solidifying piece for me. In a wholesome, full circle moment, the album that brought a new certainty to who I am was folklore by Taylor Swift. I had listened to the album because my TikTok feed had been talking about potential queer coding in songs (specifically “Seven” and “Illicit Affairs”). As a newly identifying queer person, I felt an obligation to go listen, and secretly ten year-old me was overjoyed to be listening to Taylor again. It is one of my favorite albums to this day, and the rest is history.
Since then, I slowly grew into listening to more LGBTQ+ musicians as I continued growing into myself, but perhaps most importantly, I started opening up about the music I was listening to again. I would make my little brother listen to it in the car on the ride to school, unmoved by any negative comments. I am now unabashedly a Swiftie and am in the process of gradually converting all of my friends as well. (I could write an entire essay on how my acceptance of myself and my sexuality is directly connected to accepting and celebrating how much I love Taylor Swift and her music). I recently made a series of playlists for my best friends, inspired by some of my favorite times we hang out and just share music with each other
When people share a part of themselves with you, whether it is their sexuality or their story or their favorite song at the moment, listen to them with no judgement. This art of sharing ourselves with others is the fundamental piece of loving ourselves and those we care about.
For anyone who is curious, I am currently in a deep Fleetwood Mac and 70-80s music phase with a sprinkle of 90s rap, my continual Lucy Dacus obsession, and my fascination with Mitski’s new album “Laurel Hell”.
Go send your favorite song to someone you love and ask for theirs too. These moments of connections are the true music of our lives.
Music is an incredibly powerful tool for self expression! I’m a big fan of country music (something that is pretty popular around my area of PA) but there are also a lot of songs that revolve around self-love and appreciation for nature that I choose to keep to myself. While my personal connection to nature isn’t as impactful on my identity as sexual orientation is, it’s still something that I’m not ready to share for fear of being called “granola” by my mother (which who actually says that, it’s so weird). For now, I’m happy to hold my music close to my heart and only share it with my friends who I know share my values in this area. Music allows us to express ourselves in such a great way because it lets us speak without saying a word.
Music is definitely a wonderful way of expression and is something that I quite literally don’t think I could survive without. One thing that I thought was super relatable was this idea of keeping the music you like a secret. I feel like if your music isn’t mainstream it’s easy for it to feel like something that should be kept secret and not shared with others out of fear of judgment. As far as Taylor Swift goes I was obsessed with her when I was younger. I kind of fell off of her music for a while but this year I have grown to like her newer stuff as well 🙂