Fun fact: When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a singer. A happy mix of Whitney Houston meets Britney Spears. The soultry soul meets catchy pop. That was the dream.
For most of my life, music and the arts has always been there. Whether it was singing in the children’s choir at church, performing in musicals at school, dancing in my high school’s modern dance group or playing in the orchestra. Music is as much a part of me as the curly, kinky hair growing out of my head and the brown eyes staring back at me.
Despite my immense love of music, for me, it has always been a closeted thing. I sing to small children I nanny for to get them to stop crying. (Call me the baby whisper because it actually works.) I sing in the shower and on elevators (of course because those are the places where you get the best acoustics.) I am guilty of being a car performer down the 101 and the 405. (When people see me singing in the car, it’s never a source of embarrassment. It just means it’s time to go all out and give them a good show.) Karaoke? Oh, that’s my jam (no alcohol necessary).
I can count on my hand the number of times that I have sang solo on stage for an audience. It’s just not something I have ever done, sing for people. It’s kind of daunting because I love music so much. There’s almost the fear that doing it for others to see might take away the sweet, simple goodness of it.
That’s all changed since living in Los Angeles. One person, Jackie, who is the worship leader at my church, pointed out that I had a good voice, and she asked me to audition. All of the sudden, it was like a snow ball effect. More and more people started pointing out that I had a good voice. It became something I couldn’t hide nor did I want to. I love music. I love singing. Why shouldn’t I share that? Why am I so afraid?
So I decided to put my life motto to the test: feel the fear and do it anyway. I auditioned for my church’s music team and made it! I was so nervous on my audition. I was fearful that I wouldn’t be able to hit a note or I’d miss the downbeat or not hit a harmony.
Jackie gave me the best advice to ease my nerves. She said, “Sing where you are at your strongest.” So simple but so good.
Twenty-Something Advice for Anybody: “Live of a life of passion. Sing from your strongest point, where it fits, where it feels right.”
As a kid, I always sang soprano. I remember my youth choir director telling us that altos were just lazy sopranos. (Truthfully, she just was short on sopranos and was trying to fill the spots she needed with a little pressure.) Her words kind of stuck with me though. I’ve always thought sopranos sounded better. Stronger. Think Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston and Celine Dion. Then, there’s today’s pop princesses like Ariana Grande, Demi Lovato and Christina Aguilera. I love a good soprano.
On my recent audition, I discovered the most freeing and revolutionary fact: I am an alto. (To be more exact, I am in the range of a first alto and second soprano.) In layman’s terms, I sound better when I sing the middle range notes, not the high ones.
Jackie told me to sing where I am the strongest and that I am definitely an alto. I cannot tell you how good it felt to be told this simple thing. For years, I’d been straining to hit all these high notes that were not in my range simply because I thought they sounded better, prettier. Trying to sing notes I wasn’t built for left me thinking maybe I wasn’t a great singer. I can sing, but I wasn’t singing in my range, in my sweet spot, in the area where I am most gifted.
This got me thinking about how “singing from where you are strongest point” applies to adulthood and career. Oftentimes, we take jobs and go down career paths simply because of the paycheck or the impressive title. Like me straining to hit notes simply because I thought they sounded “prettier,” we often pursue jobs simply because they look good on paper. We take jobs for money instead of passion and then wonder why our proverbial vocal chords (our souls) are strained.
“We often pursue jobs simply because they look good on paper.”
Here’s what I am learning: Just because the girl next to be is a bomb soprano, hitting all the runs and the pretty high notes, doesn’t mean I need to be. I am at my best when I am in my sweet spot, when I am in my own lane. Plus, me and the girl next to me probably can bust out a sick harmony if I sing my part and not hers.
It’s the same in adulting. How many people do you know who simply took a career for the money but don’t actually enjoy it? Are you one of them? I have found when I am playing a part that I was never meant to play, it’s draining, but when I am using my skills, my talents, my passions, it flows naturally. It’s easy. It’s simple. It feels right. It’s never forced.
Lessons in adulting: Take the career path, job title, relationship or friendships in life that best suit you. Don’t worry about keeping up with the Joneses. I think you will find a life of divine purpose and passion when you learn to run your race and use the gifts you’ve been uniquely given. No one can be a better you than you. Remember: When you are singing from where you are strongest, it’s beautiful. Nobody can sound quite like you.