I sang in front of people for the first time since like 1st or 2nd grade this weekend (that’s almost 25 years). I remember growing up being told I wasn’t good at singing, so I just quit and vowed to not do it. I did the same thing with a lot of things. Get a bad grade in art? I guess I don’t do art or anything creative anymore. I had a fear of being bad, of failing, because I tied all of my worth into achieving and none in just being. But the goal for this year is to stop living in that fear. It’s driven my life for far too long. And there is immense value in being bad at things, and being OK with being bad. The only way to be “good” at something is by being bad at it first. And it’s good to do something for fun that you like, even if you’re bad at it.
The Root of Fear
For most of my life I’ve never considered myself to be very creative or artistic. So I never really tried to get better. I usually just avoided them. Why would I do things I’m not good at? But I have some vague memories of wanting to sing solos in elementary school music concerts, at least the first couple. And what kid doesn’t love to draw and color (and make messes)? I know I have some childhood sketch books somewhere that I used to do with my grandma. But honestly, I was a fragile child mentally, and all it really took was one or two people telling me I wasn’t good at something and I gave it up. It’s crazy how much influence the things we hear and believe when we’re young have in shaping who we become and what we think of ourselves. The smallest ripple can grow into a wave that we end up defining our life by, for good or for bad.
It didn’t really help that I’ve always let fear run my life. There were the random occasions where I’d try to push fear aside and still just do, but honestly, most of these times were either because I had no choice, or because there was a bigger fear of not being “cool” if I didn’t. But mostly, I’ve made many decisions out of fear. And it’s definitely not been a great decision motivator. It’s kept me from trying plenty of things that would probably be fun (like, I’ve never really ridden a roller coaster). It’s caused me to fall short in most of my relationships and friendships, and even prevented me from feeling able to make friends or find partners. It’s kept me from being able to be present and enjoy and just be. And until Saturday, it kept me from being able to sing, at least in front of anyone but myself in a mirror.
A Different Approach
But I’ve really, really been trying to steal back some confidence from fear. I want to define this year by it being the year where fear stopped defining my actions. It’s even written twice on the whiteboard in my room that I see every day, once in January at the start of the year, and again in February because I needed to emphasize it more. So 2 months ago I started taking some voice lessons, which, once I mentioned that I used to be able to play a guitar, quickly became guitar and singing lessons.
It’s so hard to just sing well I feel like, at least for me, and so much harder to do both at the same time. Songs I can easily play on the guitar become like I’ve never even heard them before as soon as I start trying to sing. But it was encouraging to hear from someone that my voice wasn’t bad, and that I could hit a decent range of notes doing exercises. And I kept going each week, and finally could put together some simple songs with only making a few mistakes. And then, my teacher mentioned that he had a recital for his students coming up and he hoped I’d pick a couple songs to perform…
The Recital: A Public Display
I 100% did not think I was ready after this short of a time. But he was pretty insistent and I tried to remember what was really making me not feel ready: fear. Because why did it really matter how ready I was? I don’t have plans to become a musician. This whole exercise was to gain the confidence to be able to sing in front of people again, and here I was being presented with that opportunity. And it probably couldn’t have been more perfect, because it would be at a retirement home, and as someone later pointed out, maybe they wouldn’t be able to hear it that well anyways.
So we settled on a few songs that I had been practicing for a bit (though not nearly enough). I’d do the classic “Bad Moon Rising” from Creedence Clearwater Revival and one of my favorite Noah Kahan songs, “Growing Sideways”. (We had Jack Johnson’s “Banana Pancakes” as an option, but honestly, my hand doesn’t have the endurance yet to play barre chords for that long). I went to work and picked up my practicing for the three weeks or so before the recital, and picked it up a lot the week before. I started to feel pretty good that I could do it without too many mistakes. At least at home alone.
Saturday finally came and I was first on the program, leading off the show. I think I’m kind of glad I got to go first and get it over with right away. I had a good surf in the morning and was still riding that high a little bit. I warmed up in my car, grabbed my guitar and walked in and saw the small audience. And I didn’t immediately feel fear, there was maybe even a small bit of readiness. Luckily, I didn’t have that much time to think, because going first, I had to jump right into it. It definitely didn’t go as smoothly as it had at home, but it went, and there were only a few mistakes and places I got thrown off by thinking too much. It was enough to make me start to sweat though. It’s funny, I only really started to make mistakes when I was thinking about it. It wasn’t that I forgot or didn’t know how to do what I was doing. It was that I was letting my mind get in my own way, but if I just closed my eyes and tuned out my mind, I could flow.
I really only start to feel anxious and get in my head and start thinking about fear after I was done performing and was watching the other students. That’s when fear and its ugly cousin comparison started to creep in. It was my mind not remembering the whole point of this: to do something I feared doing, which I had just done. It was a time to be proud of myself for something (which is something I’ve never really been able to be). To be honest, I let it get the best of me for a while, and I was pretty uncomfortable for most of the rest of the performances (and they were really good). But when I got to my van and I had the chance to listen to the video of my performance, I started to feel some confidence again in both my performance and from beating that fear, at least in that instance. The mistakes I remembered were not as big a deal as I thought, and it was just cool to see myself doing something that for a long time I had told myself I’d never do again. It didn’t have to be “good”, I was learning a little bit about being fine with something being “bad”.
The Value of Being “Bad”
Because that’s how all growth happens, right? It’s not a bad thing to be bad at something. Maybe you’re not bad, you’re just a beginner. Or maybe you’re not a beginner, but you’re not bad, you’re just having fun. Isn’t that more important anyways? And besides that, how common is that being bad at something first is the only way to become great at it? Everyone who’s great at the thing you want to be great at was a beginner and “bad” at it at one time. I think a lot of us forget this, especially as we get older. We stop doing things for fun, and we stop being a beginner. We settle into our routines. We find “our things” and stick to them. We stay comfortable. It’s where I’ve hidden for most of my life. But so much of the joy we get in life is from having fun, and from seeing ourselves improve. I don’t think there’s anyone better to prove wrong than our own selves. There have been countless studies on our brains losing their neuroplasticity as we age. But these studies have also found that we can maintain much of our ability to learn if we never stop learning. And learning requires not knowing or being bad at something.
I think it’s mostly fear which keeps us from being a beginner. When we’re young, we don’t know any better about trying everything because we don’t have this fear of having to be only what we define ourselves as. We don’t have that definition of ourselves even. But I’m learning that if we can face that fear and continue to begin, we can change that definition that we hold of ourselves. I’m gonna try to remember to heed what’s written on that whiteboard, and live out of desire and not out of fear. I hope to keep pushing myself to try things I’ve told myself I’m bad at. Maybe next up will be dancing (because I definitely haven’t really been confident enough to do that hardly ever either, at least without drinks). And maybe this will inspire some of you to try something new, too. I hope you do. I think you’ll be glad you did.
(Note: I wrote pretty much this whole thing listening to John Butler’s new instrumental “Surrender” on repeat. Highly recommend. YouTube link here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WXxESN83ZBE)
TLDR Summary
For nearly 25 years, I avoided singing because I was told I wasn’t good at it as a child. That fear of being bad permeated my life, stopping me from trying many new things and tying my self-worth to achievements. This year, I’ve been trying to break free from that fear. I started taking voice and guitar lessons, knowing I would be bad at first (and not even really caring if I was good). The goal wasn’t to become a great singer but to prove to myself that I could do it and find joy in the process.
During my journey, I realized how much fear has controlled my life. Fear kept me from trying things that might have been fun, from forming deeper relationships, and from truly living in the moment. But I want to change that. I wrote on my whiteboard that this would be the year fear stopped defining my actions. I took the leap, and after two months of lessons, I performed at a recital.
The recital was a mix of nerves and excitement. I made mistakes, but I also found moments of flow and joy. The real challenge was after the performance when I felt anxiety and comparison creeping in. However, listening to the recording of my performance, I felt a sense of pride and confidence. The mistakes were minor, and I had done something I never thought I would do again.
This experience taught me that growth often starts with being bad at something. It’s okay to be a beginner, to make mistakes, and to do things purely for fun. Embracing this mindset can lead to unexpected joys and moments of improvement. I encourage everyone to step out of their comfort zones, face their fears, and try something new, even if they’re bad at it. You’ll be surprised at how much you can grow and enjoy life when you allow yourself to be imperfect.
Remember, fear often keeps us from being beginners, but overcoming that fear can redefine how we see ourselves. Let’s keep pushing ourselves, trying new things, and breaking free from the chains of fear. Next on my list? Maybe dancing, another challenge I’ve avoided for too long. And I hope this inspires you to take your own leap of faith to try something you’ve always thought you were bad at.
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