Guilty Pleasure of Music

I am not afraid to admit. I am listening to some TSwift right now. Because it just landed on Spotify!

Because it’s catchy. Some lyrics ring true. (Although I know that it’s not all written by her.)

For years, especially in my identity-forming era of my teens and twenties, I would declare to the world that my favorite music was the music nobody knew. I could rattle off a whole list of bands that were obscure. But the fact was I didn’t really enjoy their songs. Sure, I would have them loop in my endless playlist in an effort to make myself like it.

But it didn’t have the same pleasure that I had with certain pop songs. The kind of songs that would make me hop and dance.

It wasn’t until my mid=twenties when I finally admitted to myself that pop music was my love. And even just now to admit that Taylor Swift could be someone that I listened to. (There’s a story of a friend who did some website development work for her and it was intense, because there were so many demands.) It frustrates me that I waited so long. I love music, but I had purposefully denied myself of music that I loved. (Not to mention waste money at concerts of bands that…I didn’t love, but bands that I loved because it matched the hipster identity I wanted to support.)

There’s this brand of an empowered woman—one who doesn’t take any crap, an ambitious woman who works hard to get what she wants, and more. At its core, it’s feminist. There’s a stigma.

But right now, I sit in my office chair, play from my free spotify account, and listen to that catchy pop music pour through my speakers.

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