“Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.” ― Leo Tolstoy

Author's note: This post is mostly to help me wrap my brain around the end of another chapter, explore the lessons I learned,  and say farewell to all the characters who appeared in said chapter. It has a different feel than my other posts and I hope you can forgive me for that, but it was something I needed to write down. 

Three years ago I was living in Arizona contemplating what to do with my life. I had just finished a course in phlebotomy, yet was still unable to find a job. I was to the point where something needed to change but I wasn't sure what that change needed to be. One night, unable to sleep, I thought about what I really wanted to do. I suddenly felt like moving back to my hometown of Fillmore was my next step. I considered what I needed to do once I got there. I had always wanted to do work with the youth, especially with regards to the performing arts, but I wasn't sure, exactly, how to go about doing it. I stared up at the ceiling and let my thoughts roll around in my head until I could no longer take the chaos. I knelt down, prayed about what I was supposed to do, and waited for the answer.

In the hour that followed I received some pretty awesome guidance and became excited at the answers I had received. I knew I wanted to teach voice lessons. After that prayer I suddenly began to see what I was really supposed to do. Teach anyone who has the desire to learn music. I also knew that I wanted to start directing musicals again. I received the same thought. Teach and create opportunities for anyone who has the desire to learn. It was strange how much that thought just kept coming to my mind. I wanted to make sure I understood what that meant and as I thought, I knew what it meant to me. There are people who have such a strong desire to learn music or how to perform, though they are sometimes overlooked because they aren't as talented as so-and-so or they can't perform as well as what's-his-face. I knew that these thoughts were coming to me for a reason, and I made the choice that second that I was going to do my best to encourage all the youth I came in contact with to understand that they could improve and have opportunities as long as they were willing to work. That was my purpose. I felt strongly that I had to move to Fillmore for a reason and changing lives was that very reason! (Say that last sentence as dramatically and with as much conviction as you can possibly muster. Trust me, it adds to the rest of the story.)

Here I am, having experienced some of the most challenging years of my life, and I don't know whether to laugh or cry at the memory of that night. I think of all the wonderful things that have happened to me: pulling off some amazing musicals with some of the best students in the world, being called to direct the stake youth choir and witnessing the miracles that came with that calling, and seeing some of my private voice students work hard and make some incredible improvements. Each one of these achievements makes me happy to think about. Not because of what I accomplished, but because of the people I was able to work with. The small moments of success in each of their lives. That spark in their eye and the smile on their face when they learned difficult music or a challenging technique. The bond that I have with those who took these journeys with me. The friendships made! So many wonderful memories. 

Yet each one of those memories is also accompanied by the most horrible moments in my life: the people who criticized every choice I made as I directed the musicals, the choir member who took every opportunity to let others know how little they respected me and thought I didn't know what I was doing, and the students who struggled and couldn't quite get past their personal hurdles. The frustration in the eyes of those who worked their hardest, but still had a hard time making improvements. The hurt from those who didn't get cast as the character they so desperately wanted. The anguish from losing friends. The negative comments about my talent, about the talent of my students, about how wrong I was to give opportunities to those who weren't as naturally talented. The negative comments about how I directed choirs and musicals, about how I played the piano, about the music I picked. The criticisms about my priorities, the comments, jokes, and rumors about my sexual orientation. (Which were super hurtful and completely untrue. This woman is attracted to MEN.) The mean and hurtful comments to my students and the discouragement they felt from those who should have been giving them encouragement. It's been an emotional ride, to say the least. 

Sometimes it's hard for me to remember the good through all of the hurt I feel. I have spent the last year healing, and now that I have had time, I can look back and realize what was happening. That night three years ago, I was so focused on what I was supposed to do as far as working with the youth that I misunderstood my reason for moving here. There are those who come to me and tell me how much my being here has helped them. I love those moments. I cherish those moments. Those moments are the moments that warm my heart and let me know that I have made a difference in the world. That my being here wasn't a complete waste of time. That I am a good person who is capable of doing good to others. That I am capable of loving and being loved. Because of those moments I know that part of what I thought that night was correct: I needed to move to Fillmore. I was supposed to help others and be a teacher. I was supposed to change lives. I just forgot to count myself as one of those lives that needed changing.

I'm one of those delusional people that believes everything happens for a reason. There is a purpose to everything. I honestly think that I was guided to Fillmore because I needed to learn, to change, and to grow. In my first post I talked about how trials aren't necessarily a bad thing. I wrote that because I finally understood. It is because of those trials that I was able to change. I came here with the intention of staying. I wanted to open my own theatre and do so many great things for the people of Fillmore. The intentions of my Father in Heaven were much different. I have come to the end of my time in this small community and I am a completely different woman than the day I moved back. I am older. I have thicker skin. I am more wise. I am more patient. I am more reserved. I have bigger dreams. I am more independent. I am more grateful. I am more cautious. I am more daring. I am better prepared for the obstacles I am about to face. I am ready to discover the woman I was meant to become. 

I look at that list and realize that some of those changes may seem confusing, or that maybe they are changes that aren't necessarily good for me, but I know that I am a better person today because I changed and that there are definitely more changes to come. Change simultaneously excites and terrifies me, but I know it is necessary. I haven't always been willing to embrace change, but I think the biggest lesson that I have learned from the last three years is to be ever changing. Change doesn't mean that we have to completely give up the person we've come to know, just to add to and become the person we are meant to be. 

Farewell to Fillmore

Tonight I pack. In a few days I will move on to the next chapter of my life. I will face new challenges, discover new wonders, and inevitably change again. But, before I end this chapter I want to say thank you. Good and bad, my time here was exactly what I needed. Whether my time with you was one of joy and happiness or frustration and hurt, you were all meant to be in my life. And for that I am grateful. You have all played a vital role in my life, and I can't thank you enough. You have changed me and helped me find a way to discover old dreams and find new passions. I hope the best for this wonderful community of ours. Thank you for the support, the love, the obstacles, the laughter, the tears, and the sunsets. You all deserve happiness and I hope you find it. And with that, goodbye.

Stay tuned for my next chapter! It's bound to be exciting and entertaining. 

“Before a dream is realized, the Soul of the World tests everything that was learned along the way." - Paulo Coelho

I remember as a young girl knowing exactly what my dreams were. I would fall asleep every night thinking of all the wonderful things that I could do, if I could just make my dreams come true. The crazy thing is, I never dared tell anyone. I was convinced that as soon as I did I would hear all the lectures about how my dreams weren't realistic. So I kept it to myself. 

It was always kind of funny going to parent teacher conferences every year. Part of the conference included writing down career goals so that we could make a plan. Mr. G would pull out the paper and ask me to write down what career I would like to work toward. I would always look at my dad and my advisor and say, "I don't know." Really though, I knew exactly what my career goals were and there was no way I was going to have anyone tell me to rethink. So, I just kept saying, "I don't know" and my dad and Mr. G would make some jokes and we would finally put down some random profession that we could all laugh about. I distinctly remember putting down horticulture one year. I believe that suggestion came from Dad. Sometimes I wish I still had that paper just for laughs. There honestly was something different written down every year. 

Senior year. The time for keeping my secret had come to an end. In order to start my journey I needed to get into college and into the program that would help me. I settled on a school and began the application process. I don't particularly remember caring so much which school had the best program I was looking for, I mostly wanted to start fresh. Somewhere I knew that wouldn't have a ton of people from my high school. Not because I disliked them, I just knew that it was time for me to become the person I always wanted to be and I needed room to do that free from the person I had been in high school. I chose Weber State University, a lovely school in Ogden Utah where I was certain that no one else would be going. I was accepted and even received a scholarship into the program I desired. The preparation for school was smooth sailing and I considered that a good sign for the plans I had spent many hours obsessing over since before I was in high school. I was on my way.

The first day of college. I am a worrier so there had been an excessive amount of anxiety the week before that fateful first day. I'm not one to ask a lot of questions and I get really embarrassed asking for help. Luckily I ended up with a roommate who was in the same major as myself and she was very kind to share her wisdom. Even going so far as to recommend teachers and show me where my first class was located. Thank heavens for the outgoing personalities in the world! Halfway through my morning schedule was my First Year Experience class. Everyone on campus was required to take this class. However, my department had it's own class because of the demands to complete the major. I remember sitting in that room feeling simultaneously excited to be where I was and terrified that I didn't belong. The department head taught this class and as he walked in I knew I needed to listen to every word he said. I knew what my dreams were and this class was hopefully going to give me an overview of how best to make it through the program. As he gave the usual syllabus lecture I paid very close attention, hoping not to miss something vital to my future. (I later fell into the habit of letting my mind wander during these lectures. Turns out they all sound the same after a while. No matter what the class.) He began talking about all that was expected of us during our time in the program, but more importantly he began giving us insight into what the future would hold for us in our desired field. He began by talking to those in our program who belonged to a different subset of our major. When he had finished with their overview he turned his attention to my program and I waited with much anticipation.

"How many of you are performance majors?"

I think back on the moment he asked this question often. This is the moment where things changed for me. This moment and the five minutes that followed set me on a path I did not intend to go down.

"How many of you are performance majors?"

I mustered all the courage I could find and timidly raised my hand. This was the first time that I had really acknowledged my dreams in such a public setting. As I looked around the room I saw that there were about 15-20 other students raising their hands. Most of them didn't look as terrified as I felt. It was perplexing. I guess I had hoped that they would all be as shy about their dreams as I had been. Nope. These people had more confidence than I think I had ever displayed in my entire life. Still, I kept that hand raised long enough to hear Dr. P's next comment.

"There should only be one person in here with their hand up, because that's about how many will actually make it."

I had never been so embarrassed to have my hand raised in my life. All the fears I had felt about sharing my dreams with others were just confirmed. I remember going home and writing in my journal that night.

"It kind of got me upset, but at the same time it kind of made me feel like, 'I'll show him!' I just have to break out of my shell and try really hard. No matter what, I won't give it up. AT ALL. I just have to keep going. I will not be influenced or discouraged by other people's opinions."

Ah, the words of eighteen year old me. I think I was really trying to fight off the doubt that had been planted. None of what I wrote in my journal was in my nature at the time. I think it's the kind of determination I'd wished I had and that maybe by putting it down on paper I would magically be that way. I desperately wanted it to be true, but I knew that something was different. I had already started rethinking my dreams. I could see all the happy things I had thought about every night leaving my thoughts as I replaced plans of training my voice, working on stage presence, and learning opera's with choral singing and conducting students. This was also an interest, but not what I had dreamed about for years. I talked myself into believing that even if I couldn't have my dream I could still go into music. I could be happy settling, right? 

Every year since then has been a lot of settling and not accomplishing as much as I could have. Ten years of dreams slipping away and turning into a series of 'what if' statements. I kept trying school, but without that spark of determination and working toward something I was passionate about it never really worked out for me. Ten years of doubting myself and thinking I wasn't very talented. Telling myself I was never going to be good enough and that it was a silly dream anyway. Ten years. It wasn't until last year, when my life fell apart, that I started to make some startling realizations.

I started reviewing my life and going over how I had ended up back in my home town directing musicals, teaching voice lessons, conducting youth choirs, accompanying high school choirs, putting together singing groups for children, doing music workshops for Jr. High students, organizing fundraisers for the high school performing arts and even performing occasionally. Then I thought about that unfortunate year when I kept doing those things while having horrible comments said to me and about me. I asked myself why those comments had such a devastating affect on me. Everything led to one answer: I never gave up on my dream.

I couldn't believe what I had just realized! For ten years I had struggled with the fact that I gave up so easily on my dream, when in reality I was still working toward it. I just didn't know it at the time. I had continued to take voice lessons for three semesters. I had stayed in performing groups. Interestingly enough, I never stopped learning. Even though I had changed my major and eventually dropped out of the music program, I still found myself working to improve my voice and spending several hours a day  researching how the voice works. I even borrowed a friends books from college and began making my way through those. For someone who wasn't in school I sure spent a lot of time studying and practicing. Did you know that Juilliard posts their master classes on youtube? I've watched quite a few of them and even attended vocal workshops. I found a love for theatre and was able to improve my acting and worked on how to have good stage presence. I realized that through those ten years where I thought I had given up on my dream I was actually working harder than ever on it. I was only confused by one thing. Why had I convinced myself that I shouldn't major in music?

I had originally concluded that it was that freshmen orientation class. I think that might have been what eighteen year old me was thinking when she wrote, "I'll show him." I think she was chasing the right attitude, but with the wrong goal. You see, it wasn't the professor or even his comment that sent me down the road I'm currently traveling. It was me. I didn't believe in myself. There was no lack of dreaming. That wasn't the problem. The problem is that I believed so little in my abilities and talents that one sentence convinced me I could never make those dreams a reality. And that is the lie I mistakenly chose to believe.

That's when I decided to at least finish my associates degree. I registered for the one class that I needed online. (Yes, I quit school one class shy of a degree. I really didn't believe in myself.) I also decided that I needed to do something for myself to get away from the self doubt, the negative comments from others, and find a way to have some positive me time so I called my voice teacher from WSU and started taking voice again. It was a great summer. I learned a lot about myself and realized that I can do hard things. My voice started sounding great and I had finally received a diploma. Once fall came I knew it was time to make some decisions about my future and how I was going to FINALLY get back to the original path I started on when I was eighteen. In January, I still hadn't made any final decisions and began wondering what in the world I was going to do. All I knew was that I couldn't stay where I was.

One morning, I had the computer on my lap while I was day dreaming about the wonderful performance of 'La Traviata' that I had just taken my students to the night before. I found myself smiling at the thought of what it must be like to perform on the stage at the Capitol Theater and remembered the conversation with the woman sitting next to me about her time in the vocal performance program at the University of Utah. I looked at my computer and started laughing as I google searched the school, clicked on admissions, and started filling out the application. Even though I was doing this on a whim, I immediately knew that it was what I was supposed to do. I saw that the auditions into the music program were coming up and quickly requested a time. Two weeks later I walked out of the audition room smiling from ear to ear. I had no idea if I had made it or not, but it felt awesome to perform classical music again. The acoustics in the room were incredible and I found myself thinking, "Dang! Is that me singing?!" I'm not going to lie, I was kind of impressed with my voice. Two weeks after that I was competing in a N.A.T.S competition in Salt Lake and took 1st place. That night I thought of a quote from my favorite book, The Alchemist.

"And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."

In that moment I felt like the universe was most definitely helping me achieve everything I wanted. I knew that I was back to actively working to make my dreams become a reality and now I had the one thing that I didn't have ten year ago: I believed in myself.

I have since performed in a concert at temple square to celebrate the winners of the N.A.T.S competition. I have also received my acceptance letter into the University of Utah. But I am most excited that I have been accepted into the University of Utah School of Music as a Vocal Performance major!

Ten years seems like a long time to struggle through the loss of a dream, but I'm so glad that the eleventh year showed me what those ten years meant. I'm about to turn 29 and, some might say, back at the beginning. But I don't see it that way. The journey between eighteen years old and now has taught me so many lessons and given me so many experiences that I know will help me achieve everything I have ever wanted for myself.

“Before a dream is realized, the Soul of the World tests everything that was learned along the way. It does this not because it is evil, but so that we can, in addition to realizing our dreams, master the lessons we’ve learned as we’ve moved toward that dream.” 

― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Update: As noted above, I wasn't really expecting to go back to school. It just happened upon me one fateful January morning. I hate asking for help, but if you could spare even a little bit I would be eternally grateful. Just click the link below. Thank you for all the love and support that has already been given to me at this exciting time in my life. 

http://www.gofundme.com/8mv3c4

More Updates for my local readers: A few wonderful women in my neighborhood have also organized a fundraiser for me. The date is June 6 and 7. It's a bake/yard sale. It will go from 8:00 am - 4:00 pm on both days. Address is 160 E. 200 S. Canyon Road in Fillmore. Thanks for the help!

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” ― Martin Luther King Jr.

As has been alluded to in my previous posts, the last year and half has been a tumultuous time in my life which has led to a lot of life lessons. Some of those lessons have taught me things I had never known or felt before, but today I would like to share a somewhat personal story of how I learned to feel love again, gain a testimony of relief society, and recognize the power and joy of womanhood.

Over the summer I had very cautiously accepted the calling from my Stake President to assemble a youth choir and have them perform a fireside. I had done this task before, I was just very anxious about doing it after such a rocky year. And even though I had accepted this calling, I still didn't feel comfortable accepting invitations to sing at church or community events. You see, I had received  incredibly hurtful comments from a handful of people concerning my talents and my efforts to help others recognize their talents. Negativity tends to build when left unchecked and soon those comments turned into opinions on what a horrible/awful person I am. Even though it was only a few people sharing these opinions, I became so depressed and hurt that I soon believed that everyone had those opinions. I had no desire to leave my house and face people when I was convinced they all thought I was a monster. I couldn't bare the thought of singing or working with others to develop their talents when I believed no one wanted me to do so. I found great difficulty in going to church because I told myself that if I wasn't able to be loved by others then surely the Savior had no love for me either. I had begun to tell myself that the comments from others were true and I deserved to be miserable and unloved for the rest of my life. I honestly stopped feeling love and had given up on life. It was devastating. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't get the negative comments to stop being played over and over in my head. It was a pain that I could see no end to.

Through working to help the stake youth choir prepare for the fireside I slowly began to open my heart again. The spirit was working on me so strongly that I started to feel the Savior's love for me and found joy in music again. Looking back, I am so grateful for the power of this experience and how it helped me to pull myself up. I'm even more grateful for a stake president who felt inspired to ask me to take on the task. When the fireside was over I felt so much peace in my life and the weeks that followed were some of the closest I have ever felt to the Savior. During this time I contemplated the things which I needed to do to begin the healing process and I prayed that I could feel love from those around me and learn how to love others again. It was around this time that I received a message from Michelle.

Michelle and I had met the previous year at a voice workshop and had quickly become friends. She is incredibly talented and is also one of the most kind hearted women I know. In her message she explained that she had felt very strongly that she should write music to go with the book "Daughters in my Kingdom", a book written for the women's organization in my religion. She also expressed how she would very much like to have me join the choir when they recorded it for the cd. I don't know why, but I suddenly felt that I needed to sing again and I believed that this would hopefully be a safe place for me to start. I accepted her invitation, learned the music and prayed that I would be able to add to the choir in a positive way.

The practices were set up so that we would practice on a Saturday, the following Thursday and then record. During the week leading up to the first practice I had accepted an invitation from the stake president to sing at the November stake conference, but as I was practicing I was overwhelmed with anxiety as the thoughts of performing for the very people I was convinced still hated me were too much to bare. I had nightmares that I would sing and everyone would stand and insist that I had no right to be singing in a religious setting because I was a horrible monster. Negative thoughts crept in and once again took over as I dreaded the comments and rumors that would inevitably start once I had finished my song. I was convinced that the pain from the previous year, that I was working so hard on overcoming, would start all over again with one song. In a state of panic and quite a large amount of tears, I called the stake president and canceled. However, I still felt that I needed to go to that first practice.

As I walked into the beautiful reception hall where the practice was to be held, I was apprehensive. I was still shaken up by the anxiety felt from the days before and I hadn't done choral singing in such a long time that I was worried that I would ruin the sound that Michelle wanted. My only comfort was that everyone else in the choir was from Michelle's stake and had no idea who I was. Why was this comforting? Because it meant that I could become invisible and avoid any contact with anyone. Which meant no one would discover that I was an awful person who probably had no place being in that choir. Which meant I wouldn't have to endure any hurtful comments. Now, I know all of this sounds really negative but I need you to understand my mindset at the time to fully understand the impact that this experience had on me. Keep reading, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I promise.

I was greeted by Michelle and guided to my seat as we waited for the rest of the choir members to get there. It was to be a choir of women, since it was specifically written for the sister's in the church. I sat quietly and watched as they talked with each other. I noticed how happy they all were to see each other and to have been invited to join the choir. There were women there with their daughters who spoke excitedly about the opportunity to do this with the beautiful young women they had raised. Michelle humbly spoke of writing the song and everyone exclaimed how powerful it was. I too had felt the power as I had practiced it myself and silently agreed with their sentiment. As I watched these conversations unfold, which I'm sure seemed totally normal to them, I became aware of the love that that they were all sharing with each other. When we sang through the song the first time, tears of joy welled up in my eyes as I became very aware of the lyrics I was singing. We sang of bringing love and joy. We sang of lifting the nations as one. We sang of inviting others to follow the Savior and uniting together. As the words became magnified by the power of the music I couldn't help but look at these wonderful women, most of whom I had never met before, and feel something I hadn't felt in a long time. Love. I thought of the women in my life who had helped comfort me through the pain. I thought of my older sister who was working so hard to raise her three boys far away from her own mother and sisters. I thought of my sister-in-law who despite struggling with health problems and being blessed with six children, still found the time to help other women in her ward. I thought of my little sister and the choice she made to serve a mission. I began to remember experiences when the women of the church had shown great love and support to me throughout my life and I couldn't help but smile. I began to think of all the women I could be helping and serving and all of the young women I had already helped. I was so overcome with love for my Savior, love for the women and young women in my life, and love for myself.

As we finished the first rehearsal, I stuck around to talk with Michelle and another of her friends, Kirsten. I opened up to them about my apprehension to share my talents and everything I had been feeling about my life during those months of struggle. I don't know why I suddenly felt safe sharing with them, but I just let everything out. Through their kind words and strong testimonies I felt buoyed up. I walked out of that room feeling hopeful and wanting to share my talents again. I found myself being excited about belonging to the Relief Society and feeling grateful for the wonderful circle of sisters that surround me. I also began to recognize the power that we, as women, have and the incredible things we can do. I can't express how incredible those few hours were nor do I feel like I can fully explain why. All I know is that because my Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, love me and have a plan for me, they gave me these wonderful experiences and placed Michelle in my life to help answer my prayers.

Since finishing the recordings I have read the book 'Daughters in my Kingdom' and have felt so much love for the women who worked so hard to create the Relief Society. I am reflecting so much on that day as I sit here preparing to put together a choir of sisters from every ward in my stake to perform these same songs in a fireside for the Relief Society, Young Women, and the older primary girls. I am excited for them to hear the music that Michelle has composed and to listen to her wonderful testimony. I am even more excited that I will be a part of a choir of strong and faithful women and to feel their love. I truly believe that we are, in fact, Daughters in His Kingdom. And because of one of His daughters I began to feel love again.

“A person can drop dead even while singing. But that's no reason to stop singing.” ― Marty Rubin

The following post is about my journey to discover and love my own voice. I am in no way claiming that I think my voice is perfect or better than any one else. It is still a work in progress and probably will be for a long time.


Learning to love my voice has been a frustrating task. I have been singing since I was three, yet I have never fully appreciated or even liked the sound of my own voice. I will admit, there have been many times when I have given up and made a vow to never sing another note for as long as I live. For those who know me this may seem strange since, it seems, all I do is sing. However, I assure you that the road to developing my talent is buried beneath a river of my own tears.

Those who have studied voice understand what an incredibly personal thing it is. No two voices sound alike. There may be voices that sound similar, but ultimately each voice is unique. It has it's own color that makes it stand out from every other voice. This can be a blessing or a curse depending on how you look at it. Learning to sing is especially sensitive because unlike learning to play an instrument such as the piano or the saxophone, your body is the instrument. It isn't just about learning which keys correspond with the desired note to be played. It's about learning how to create the sound with the body you have been given as well as singing the correct pitches. If something goes wrong, it isn't because you accidentally hit a wrong note with your finger. It could be any number of problems that you need to diagnose and fix every time you sing. It takes an incredible amount of dedication, patience, and prayer. But what happens when you put in all the work, and you still don't like the sound you're creating?

I have spent many years struggling with that very question. My voice has never been perfect and it certainly hasn't been easy overcoming bad habits and learning proper technique. I have an incredible amount of passion for music and singing. I remember feeling so frustrated because I always felt like there was this incredible sound inside of me just waiting to be set free. I know that sounds cliche and cheesy, but it's true. I just felt like I should be able to open my mouth and create this wonderful, powerful sound and make it seem effortless. And for the longest time I would open my mouth and would crack or squeak. I would listen to my peers in high school and college and wish so much to sound like them. I began listening to singers such as Audra McDonald or Maria Callas and try relentlessly to imitate their sound. I realized that my voice was settling into a mezzo soprano and I struggled with that for a long time. There are so many wonderful qualities about a beautiful mezzo voice, but all I could hear was that I would never have the wonderful qualities of say, a lyric soprano. Is anyone else seeing the theme here?

Most of my life has been spent comparing myself to others. I know that I'm not alone in this. I think that everyone has struggled with this at some point in their life. It's really quite unfortunate. I spent so much time lamenting the fact that I didn't sound like so-and-so or that I wasn't as good as what's-her-face that I couldn't see the beauty I was creating. (Warning: The sentences that follow will contain an abnormal amount of self esteem and I would very much like you all not to confuse that with narcissism.) I put a lot of effort into trying to make my voice sound less classical so people would want to listen to me or attempting to make my voice sound like amazing singers who's voices I so very much wished I could have, that I nearly lost what made my voice special. This led to frustration and tears. I almost always ended up hating my voice more and even led to months where I wouldn't even look at music. It wasn't until I began to think about what I had to offer the world that I began to see my voice for the awesomeness that it is. I started taking voice lessons again and benefited greatly from a teacher who pointed out what made my voice special and helped me build on that. I began listening to singers whose voices were similar to my own voice type and began to recognize the beauty that I could create. I soaked in every bit of information I could about my voice classification. I listened to the breathtaking arias written for mezzo sopranos and spinto sopranos and began to become excited at the possibilities. When I stopped comparing myself to everyone else and started loving my voice for what it was I discovered it's beauty.

I will never sing like Sara Bareilles or Katy Perry. I will never belt out rousing musical theatre songs like Sutton Foster or perfectly imitate the amazingness that is Audra McDonald. I will never have the light sound and soaring high notes of a soprano like Anna Netrebko or Maria Callas. And that is ok because what I do have is amazing. I have the ability to sing my higher tones with depth and my lower tones with an incredible warmth. I have a rich, open sound. I have a passion and an incredible amount of emotions that allow me to perform in such a way that lets others feel the music. I have a big voice with a power behind it that even surprises me at times. No, I will never have the voice of all those famous singers. But what I have is mine and no one else in the world can create what I have. I have the voice of ShaRee Larsen. I have a voice I love.

"The secret of life, though, is to fall seven times and to get up eight times."

I have had trials in life. No more than any other person I would meet on the street on any ordinary day. Trials are, after all, part of our existence and all of us will experience them several times during our lives. They are never easy and while some are larger than others, one truth is always there no matter what the trial may be: all trials bring a level of pain with them that takes a significant amount of time to overcome. 

I know this may seem like a strange first post for a blog, but it ties in with my reasons for starting the blog. I wish in this post not to start a list of the different types of trials people go through. Nor do I wish to compose a lengthy article about every horrible thing that has ever happened to me specifically. I would rather focus on the aftermath. The moment where I finally make it through and the overall lesson I have learned from my experiences. 

I used to walk through life being constantly weighed down by not only the trials that I was experiencing at the moment, but every single bump in the road that I had gone through up to that moment. I hated them. I wished I had never had them. When I experience such horrible events in my life I tend to give up. I lose all desire to move forward and find a way to stop living life to the fullest. It's my way of preventing any other bad things from happening. It's also a great way to make myself miserable. Last year I found the trial to end all trials. I guess it wasn't so much one big trial as it was a series of trials that kept pushing me down the second I tried to get on my feet. After so many times I just kind of figured it would be less painful to stay down, play dead, and pray that it would be over soon. (Stick with me, I'll get to my point shortly. Yes, I do have a point.)

I don't know if I can pinpoint the exact moment I found the strength to get up..........again. I guess I'm not so worried about the "when" of it all. I'm more focused on the fact that it actually happened. Let's just say it happened somewhere between anguish and total ruin. At some point the hopeful part of my personality found a way to start fighting my negative mind. It found a way to remind me of all the good things I had done. It found a way to fight that voice telling me I was a monster. And most importantly, it reminded me of my dreams. It didn't happen overnight. It was a SLOW process that took many months, but I got up. I got up.

Since then, amazing things have happened to me that wouldn't have happened had I given up. I have rediscovered who I am and what makes me happy. I've found a way to enjoy life. I can smile again! Here is my point: I have had trials in life. I am sure there are many more to come. But I no longer hate them and wish they had never happened to me. They have made me who I am. My trials have, at times, made me a stronger person. Other times they have been a catalyst to make a course correction, leading me to greater things in life. My trials have given me the experience I need to help others through their trials. I am more empathetic and sympathetic to what others are going through. I now see my trials, hard as they may be, as a blessing. But only if I get up. 

I believe that Paulo Coelho, in his book The Alchemist, was right. The secret of life is to fall seven times and get up eight. It's ok to have difficult times. It's ok to fail. That is where we learn the most about ourselves. That is where we grow. The trick is to get up and keep trying.