on the ones that keep us going
Your stories on the topic are welcome and can be shared through the comment section.
A hobby of mine is diving deep into the careers of artists before they broke out into commercial success—before they were deemed “new,” despite pounding down doors for ten years. I learn about their cousins, neighbors, grocery store clerks, and the one person who kept showing up as their crowd shrank from 100 to 22 to 49 to 10. Then hit 50,000.
I remember the exact moment I told my dad I was going to be a singer. I was washing dishes after dinner one night when I turned and said, “Dad, I just know I’m going to be a singer.” I must have been thirteen. He responded in the most anticlimactic, supportive, and realistic way a parent could. No questioning, no cautionary tone from years of life experience. Just a simple “okay” that let me know he’d heard me. It was the end of the conversation, but the beginning of his unwavering support. He’s met almost everything I’ve brought to him since—whether about music or life—with that same “okay,” followed silently by “I love you, I’m here.”
The questioning of whether I’m cut out for this has only recently surfaced, and my partner has seen me through the depths of it. The days of innocence and naivety about a music career have left me. What once felt effortless now feels like a part of me that needs constant nurturing, something I have to actively hold onto rather than something self-sustaining.
I tell him I don’t know if I can keep going, and he holds me. He asks questions that lead me back to who I am. He sets aside his R&B music preference to dance with me to Chappell Roan, knowing that as soon as I hear music, I’ll want to write again.
As I start a busk and wait to see if people will engage, I envision sold-out rooms filled with the people who brought me to that stage—my parents, my partner, my dear friend Harper Barth. They’ll have carried me there, as they’ve carried me to today.
Who keeps you going?
I love how you describe your father, because he sounds like my own. My father is gone now, but he always was supportive in the quiet way yours does. I still know he's there for me even though his body is now gone ten years. I am not sure my father ever really understood what I do, or how I do it (he was a scientist), but it didn't matter. I try to do the same for my grown daughters, encouraging but not directing or showing any real opinion unless asked, never judging.
I recently decided to leave my full-time job. It was crushing me, every day, and I was losing confidence in who I am and what I'm capable of. As I shared the news with my friends, my partner, and my parents, they all supported my decision and reminded me of all of the incredible work I have done and will continue to do. They emphasized the legacy I'm leaving behind, and they keep me going, too.