My first show in LA was at an intimate venue in Echo Park, called Vega’s Meat Market. It felt more like some friends playing music in an empty living room than a show.
I saw Genevieve, the singer of the band Company of Thieves, who had recently released a very personal solo album on Audiotree, after moving to LA and finding herself and her voice, her loud and bold, yet sweet and beautiful voice.
My friend, who had also recently relocated to LA, showed me her NPR Tiny Desk concert. When I heard the song “The Enemy,” it moved me to tears. In an interview, Genevieve says the song was about “tuning out the world sometimes” and finding a safe place to achieve true intimacy with yourself and others.
What made me cry wasn’t the reminders of my childhood in lyrics like,
“All the color fades to white
Like the nightmares of my youth
Bring the fairytale to life
‘Cause there’s a monster in the room”
It was the lines about hope for the future like,
“There’s no hiding in the future,
No promises we owe
You’ll never have to lie to me
I’ll never be the enemy”
Her album is about falling in love with yourself. It’s about overcoming childhood adversities and living the life you deserve to live. It was like she was speaking to me in her lyrics:
“You had dreams that you dreamt
But you wouldn’t tell
‘Cause you were told you were born in a deficit
And you should hide all the feelings that you felt
No need to fear
The coast is clear
Who I want to be
Is my authority”
Everyone at the show was so friendly, gave us a warm west coast welcome. We were in the second row, behind two tall guys. All we could see was the backs, but they moved for us. Now I stood front and center, about three feet from Genevieve. Halfway through the first song, I started crying. I’m not talking letting a few tears fall down my face unnoticed, I mean they just kept pouring out, and wouldn’t stop.
I wept entire performance.
I was crying tears of joy because I realized I had made it. As a child, I used to beg God to take me away from there, take me somewhere where no one could hurt or ridicule me. I dreamt of a life where I could speak or sing as much as I like without fear. I realized I was living that dream. I survived an abusive childhood and I ran far away.
I can stop running now. No one is chasing me. No one can hurt me anymore. I am safe.
I surrendered to the power of her voice, her words, her pain, her joy. With tear doused cheeks, voluntarily vulnerable, I was reminded of the reasons I came to LA.
I didn’t come here to run away from my past, but to chase my future.
I came to tell my story, sing my pain. I came to inspire people the way Genevieve and other artists have inspired me. The way, Mozart arguably fueled a fire which arguably ignited the French Revolution with his opera, The Marriage of Figaro. I want to heal people with the power of my words, my voice, my passion. Music moves, music heals. Music guides and connects people.
I’m always battling some monstrosity. Be it my mother’s boyfriend, social immobility, or my own head, I’ve always had to focus on these critical issues so much that I neglect my life, my greater purpose, my calling.
I’m done merely surviving, it’s time to start living.
They tried to silence me forever, but I will not be silenced any longer. I will disprove the lies they tell me. I will break free of the net of limitations cast upon me and I will succeed. Just as easy as I moved across the country, I will write and I will sing. I will let my new found voice ring.
No one will ever hold me back from my destiny.
Now I fly, hit the high notes
I have a voice, have a voice, hear me roar tonight
You held me down
But I fought back loud-Sia, Bird Set Free
