If I was asked to define my early childhood in one word, it would be “monotony.” The sound of this word fills me with a sense of melancholic loneliness, evoking memories that I cringe at the thought of. I had lived a life masked by a shell and without any means of expressing facets of my inner personality.
A monotonous life led me to monotonous hobbies. Forced upon playing the piano by my parents, I largely despised my time spent practicing difficult chords and mastering rhythmic patterns. However, something about the melodies of professional pianists like Mozart, Bach, and Liszt appealed to me. Listening to some of their awe-inducing masterpieces as well as their flawless blends of harmony and melody enabled me to gradually form a connection with this instrument.
I realized that the piano was a medium through which its players exercise their inner emotions through calculated maneuvers of their fingers. Throughout months of practice, I obtained a hunch for this gliding maneuver with my hands, and switching between octaves became as easy as remembering my name. However, I still was not expressing my emotions, but rather reviving the feelings and passion poured into the songs of some of those eminent artists.
Frustration and social exclusion forced me to spend countless evenings on the bench of this new medium, venting my reservations in the form of musical expression. Once insignificant details, like tempo and dynamics, became pathways for me to pursue artistic curiosity; my inner sorrows and emotions etched themselves into the melodies I played. From strings of notes, I had turned the pieces I played into expressions of my private self, translating my monotonous life into lively pieces.
As my playing improved, my teacher saw it fit for me to participate in my first live performance. Playing the piano in public was daunting; self-expression was still an extremely foreign topic to me.The pure, unfiltered, genuine me would finally come out, that scared me.
On the day of the recital, I sat at the piano and slowly began playing. The world melted away and all I could feel was the hot spotlight shining on me and the cool piano tiles underneath my fingertips. I felt at home here, alone with the piano.
As I finished my piece, I was drawn back to reality by thunderous applause.The genuine reception I had received, led to the death of the personas I hid behind; I had finally shown my true self and I was appreciated, rather than ridiculed. My masks seemed pointless.
My new self-confidence manifested in many various aspects of my life. Through my novel self-expression, I was able to forge real bonds, allowing me to call former acquaintances, friends. I no longer want to hide behind a facade; instead, I yearn to show everyone who I am and who I can be.
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