Music has always been a part of my life. It used to be the only way I could truly escape. Growing up, I didn’t have anyone I could run to — I was too busy being the person everyone else ran to. As a child, it weighed on me to constantly uphold the strength and capacity to not only listen but also respond in a way that made others feel heard and understood. Even then, I carried the responsibility of providing comfort when I was the one who needed it most.

Music became the one thing that never asked anything of me — it just listened. Every lyric, every note seemed to understand the parts of me I couldn’t explain to anyone else. Over time, it turned from an escape into a reflection of who I was and who I wanted to be. Through music, I learned to turn pain into purpose and silence into sound. It became my way of speaking when words alone weren’t enough.

Even now, music remains my anchor. It reminds me of where I’ve been, but also keeps me grounded in where I’m going. Every rhythm and verse still carries pieces of my story — the struggles, the lessons, and the quiet victories that shaped me. I no longer use music just to escape; I use it to connect — to feel, to heal, and to remind myself that strength doesn’t always mean silence. Sometimes, it’s found in a song that says the very words you couldn’t.

Looking back, I realize music didn’t just save me — it shaped me. It taught me how to listen, how to express, and how to transform pain into something beautiful. The same melodies that once helped me survive now inspire me to grow, to reach, and to keep creating my own rhythm in life. And while I may not have always had someone to turn to, I’ve always had the sound — steady, honest, and unbreakable — reminding me that I was never truly alone.

Followers of Samantha Stuart