The Soundtrack of My Healing

Some songs aren’t just background noise - they’re lifelines. They were there when no one else knew the pain your soul was feeling. When the nights were dark and quiet, but the thoughts were loud.

Not every song was written for me, but somehow they saved me anyway

TLC warned me.

City High challenged me.

Michael Jackson let me scream.

Tupac helped me cry.

Jelly Roll? He understood.

These songs didn’t just play in the background - they walked with me through my darkest moments, sat with me in my silence, and stood beside me in my small but sacred victories. I have sung these loudly in the car or cried to them in the kitchen.

TLC – "Waterfalls"

🎧 Caution and consequence. A reminder of how easy it is to lose yourself chasing something that was never meant for you. A mother’s voice in the background, whispering “please slow down.”

City High – "What Would You Do?"

🎧 Raw and real. It screams “don’t assume you know someone’s story,” and it carries the weight of survival. No filters. Just truth.

Michael Jackson – "Scream"

🎧 Primal and angry. That "get out of my head and let me breathe" energy. For the days when the world feels too loud and nobody’s listening.

Tupac – "Dear Mama"

🎧 Gratitude and concern. Love in the mess of it all. That deep reverence for the woman who held it all together, even when life - and she - was falling apart.

Jelly Roll – "I Am Not Okay"

🎧 The anthem of vulnerability. It’s a confession whispered into the night, when you’ve run out of the ability to pretend.

Jelly Roll – "Save Me"

🎧 The quiet plea. That moment when you’re all out of strength, and the only thing left is hope - or at least the hope of hope.

Music can heal in ways that words never could.

It isn’t always about the melody - sometimes, songs are mirrors.

They don’t just echo the pain - they validate it.