I’ve often asked myself why I let myself stop singing during these past 5 years. According to my mom, I started singing as soon as I could talk. I grew up on Rogers & Hammerstein movies, Disney movies, Broadway musicals, and anything else that had music in it. I began dancing when I was 3, and I sang “Our God is an Awesome God” in front of our church when I was only 5 or 6 years old- yes, hand motions included. I was a part of choir and acting clubs at 7 and started taking vocal training when I was 8. As I got older, and as my voice got better, I started entering into competitions- regional, statewide, and even World Championships of Performing Arts (better known as the Olympics for Performing Arts). With the competitions came the judges’ score sheets, trophies and call backs. When I wasn’t competing I was singing on worship team at church and in their youth’s choir. I could have actually been good and made something of myself if I had just practiced (I never practiced, I hated it!) I’ve been performing since I can remember and yet I somehow put singing on hold for 5 years.
Every time I’d perform, compete, or do worship I felt completely in my element. It’s like my mind forgets where I am, and my soul just takes over. I completely lose all sense of self as my feet, knees, head, and body sway to the beat of the music. With my eyes closed, I can feel the kick drum beating inside my chest. I don’t have any control to my body’s movement, and I don’t care if my dancing appears foolish because in my mind there’s no one else around. It’s just me, the music and my voice.
So if this is the sort of experience that comes over me when I sing, you’d think I would have never been able to put it aside for that long, right? I’d think of excuse after excuse: college, traveling, not having money to pay for training or competitions, not having time, not feeling I was good enough or in the mood to practice, etc. When it comes down to it, I just couldn’t get myself to sing all those years. It’s hard to explain but it’s like I went through a period where my body physically wouldn’t let me…even though my heart and soul yearned to desperately. For 5 looooong years I wasn’t able to use my voice, and it killed me inside. What’s worse, the year and a half that I smoked cigarettes made my voice a mess. Completely dry and tight vocal cords mixed with a hoarse raspy sound- and I don’t mean the sexy kind. Pair that with a lack of practice or training, and the result is a completely different voice than what I had before. It’s heartbreaking.
So now I’m at a place where I finally have some stability- physically, spiritually, emotionally, and financially. And with stability comes an opportunity for me to use my voice again. I recently got added to All Peoples Church‘s worship team and it will be the first time in 4 years that I get to use my voice- and sing in front of a crowd. Only problem is…my voice sucks now! My range is shorter, my chest voice is weakened, and I get an itchy feeling whenever I get to the end of a song because my vocal cords are being overworked. It’s awful.
I was at the Sugarland concert tonight thanks to a friend of mine who’s husband plays drums for Lauren Alaina. Lauren’s a girl who’s only 17, has already been on American Idol, and is now touring with Jason Aldean AND Sugarland! As I watched her perform, I couldn’t help but envision myself up there. Later when Sugarland came out, she had a woman from the audience come up to sing one of her songs (which she TOTALLY rocked it, by the way!) and I again envisioned myself up there. It’s where I’m supposed to be. It just feels natural for me to be there.
These past 9 months I’ve been thinking over why I’m not trying to make more of my music. I have enough friends who play instruments, write and record songs, and have awesome voices. Why am I not trying to do something with them or have them teach me how to do it on my own? I’ve decided that now, among the hundreds of other things that I’m saving up my money for, I am going to add finding a voice coach to start training again. I will find a way to afford it, and I will create the time to do it- and this time, I’ll actually practice.
Erika Gorman 