Where MY Happiness Journey Began
I was that “too much” kid. Always putting on made-up performances, making friends out of strangers, doing “tricks” I’d taught myself, and creating a personal singsong soundtrack for every part of my day. I’d wear my hair on top of my head, jump in puddles, go on adventures, write songs or poems, and make up stories with my Dad.
But that kid, didn’t necessarily, “fit in”.
I learned to be quiet, sit still, follow directions. I got straight A’s and never a detention. I was the teacher’s pet, the “goody two shoes”, and the suck up.
When it came to middle school and high school, the last thing I wanted was to stand out or be noticed. We had moved to a new town the summer before 6th grade and I had an incredible, aching fear that I would be made fun of or picked on by all of the kids in my new public school. This Catholic grade school kid wore glasses, had acne, had never used a locker, and had never worn anything aside from a plaid uniform to school. I had no idea how to “be cool”. So, I tried to stay under the radar.
The more I subdued my inner light and expressiveness, the more anxious I felt. I began having panic attacks when I was barely 12. My panic attacks rapidly evolved into daily, full-blown occurrences that would require me to leave school in order to calm down. I developed palpitations, headaches, nausea, and a host of sleep issues that led to hallucinations. I was not ok.
Every. Single. Day. I pasted a smile on my face. I wore a mask. I pretended to be alright. And every day, it broke me down a little further. I’d say “I’m fine”, “I’ll be ok tomorrow”, and “I’m just busy”, without thinking about the fact that I was slowly suffocating myself.
I was creating the most unhappy life. I was choosing to live unhappily.
But when you’re a teenager, you aren’t really focused on what you think of yourself. Positive self-reflection is overtaken by harsh self-criticism. You’re more worried about what EVERYONE else thinks of you and if you are good enough (At least you are if you’re at all like me). So all of the little things that don’t quite fit in or look pretty or easy on the surface (you know, those things that make you YOU) get put in a little box and pushed aside.
What’s left is a shell. A sad little shell.
The first time I regained a little piece of my happy “me” self was in going to a summer music camp at Western Illinois University. It was there that I found more people jsut like ME. Adults that were more like me. College students that were more like me. AND a career that sounded like it was created just for ME. The real me, the deep down, beautiful, excited, sing-songy, make friends with everyone, ME. It was there that I first heard about music therapy.
Now, no one else in my life had EVER heard of music therapy; thus, began the war to fight for what I actually wanted. To go to school for music therapy. It was the one thing I felt truly confident in at the time. Where I felt like I could make a difference and where I could be happy and be myself.
That spark came back. Choosing to go to school for music therapy and fighting for that reality, was the first big step I made on my happiness journey.
Katey providing music therapy at St. John’s Children’s Hospital
Thank you to Dr. Stegall for your time at Western Illinois University and for sharing such an incredible program with me. You changed my life.
Take your first step on your happiness journey! Book a FREE 20-minute chat with me, today!
<3 Katey
