The Music That Makes Me: How My Life Found Its Soundtrack
There’s a phrase you hear a lot in Savannah: “Music floats on the air here.” It’s not just poetic puffery—on a warm afternoon, as the sun dips behind the moss-laden oaks, you can actually hear it. Someone’s playing Rachmaninoff on an old piano behind shuttered windows, while a street musician coaxes a bluesy wail from a harmonica on Broughton Street. Savannah doesn’t just let you live your life; it scores it, cueing you to every pivotal moment. And if my life has a soundtrack, well, it’s a playlist I never stop curating.
But don’t expect it to be a neat and tidy collection. My life’s playlist is a wild mix of genres—like putting Billie Holiday next to Lizzo—because, let’s face it, no one’s life has one mood (especially not if you grew up in the eccentric ghost-story capital of Georgia). Some songs are haunted-house waltzes, others are scandalously upbeat for times when you’ve just had too much caffeine and a good hair day. So pull up a seat, grab a mint julep (or a kombucha, we don’t judge), and allow me to introduce you to my life’s greatest hits.
Track One: "Moonlight Sonata" – The Prelude to Nostalgia
If my childhood had a theme song, it’d be Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata.” Not the kind of music most kids would claim as their vibe, sure, but when your mother is a classical pianist who practices on a century-old Baldwin grand while you do your homework at the dining table, you learn to live in 4/4 time. “Moonlight Sonata” was my nightly lullaby growing up, haunting and lovely. Even now, it slips into my head when I’m stuck in traffic or walking home under indigo skies, the same way homesickness sneaks up on you at odd moments.
There’s a romance in this kind of deep-rooted familiarity, though. For me, that song isn’t just a composition; it’s the sound of evenings at home in Savannah, the scent of gardenias drifting through open windows. It reminds me that certain connections—whether to people, places, or songs—stay with you, no matter how far you wander.
Track Two: "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac – My Introduction to Heartache
There’s really no way to talk about a life playlist without including that song—you know the one you listen to on loop during heartbreak, mouthing along to every lyric as though you’ve just penned your own tragedy. For me, Fleetwood Mac plays on repeat whenever love’s soundtrack is less ’90s rom-com and more Southern Gothic drama. Thank goodness, because no one captures the melancholy of torn relationships quite like Stevie Nicks.
Honestly, “Landslide” feels like falling apart and pulling yourself back together simultaneously, which is sort of what heartbreak is, isn’t it? It played during my first real breakup, back when my college boyfriend ended things (in public, over waffles—seriously) and I thought I’d never survive it. Looking back, I guess he did me a favor. After all, who wants to date someone who doesn’t understand why Fleetwood Mac trumps hash browns? Now, I think of it as the song that taught me to embrace pain while also learning to release it—no hard feelings, waffle boy.
Track Three: "Dancing On My Own" by Robyn – A Solo Act in the Spotlight
Picture this: graduate school in Athens, a library carrel the size of a postage stamp, and me, drowning in notes for a paper on Faulkner. In those years of balancing academic deadlines, a tangle of self-doubt, and zero money to my name, I leaned into independence like never before. Queued up on repeat? Robyn's "Dancing On My Own," the anthem of owning your space—even when that space is the tiny square where self-reliance meets loneliness.
People tend to romanticize self-discovery as long walks and quiet revelations. Spoiler alert: most of mine came while eating leftover pizza and ugly-dancing to Robyn in my pajamas. Her song reminds me that solitude is an art in itself—a time to figure out your groove…and how to keep it even when someone else steps into the picture.
Track Four: "At Last" by Etta James – Say Hello to Hope
No playlist of mine would be complete without a dip into the iconic. Somewhere in the epicenter of my post-breakup haze, this velvet-coated classic arrived like a life raft—or maybe half a dozen live oak branches entwined with Spanish moss. It’s the song my parents slow-danced to on their 30th wedding anniversary, the one that made me believe that love doesn’t have to be fleeting drama or whispered goodbyes at red lights. Love can look like staying put, finding beauty where you are.
“At Last” covers me like a second skin. Played at just the right moment (a candle-lit dinner, a stolen glance across a crowded room), it offers the tiniest flicker of belief. It whispers, “Even after the landslides and waffle breakups, something lasting is possible. Hang in there.”
Track Five: "Juice" by Lizzo – Owning the Glow-Up
This one doesn’t take much explanation. If there’s a soundtrack to my current chapter of life, it’s something bright, bold, and unapologetic. Lizzo’s “Juice” is that perfect balance of playful self-confidence and subtle-but-warm encouragement, like your best friend handing you a cocktail and telling you how gorgeous you look. Believe me, everyone needs a Lizzo phase—and if you haven’t entered yours, what are you waiting for?
That song gets me up on mornings when I’d rather stay in bed scrolling through Instagram. It gets me out of my head and reminds me to stop apologizing for being, well, me. No somber undertones here—just pure, unfiltered vivacity. Because sometimes, we all need a reminder that life looks a whole lot brighter when you stop dimming your own shine.
Creating Your Own Soundtrack
If my playlist teaches me anything, it’s this: Your soundtrack isn’t carved into vinyl. It grows and shifts like you do, a reflection of the moments you cling to and the ones you outgrow. It’s the heartache you leaned into, the hard-earned joy you amplified, the wonderful mess of emotions from every meaningful connection along the way.
Want to craft one of your own? Start with the moments that matter. Picture that oxymoron of a first date where everything was both awkward and amazing (maybe that's Frank Sinatra’s "Fly Me to the Moon"). Recall the relationship that burned too bright but taught you what love isn’t (queue up some Alanis). Then, finally, pick what inspires you now—something unapologetically bold that screams, “This is who I am today!”
Life might not be predictable, but if you’ve got a great soundtrack, every twist and turn feels that much more beautiful. Whether you're laughing in the sunshine or ugly-crying under a Charleston rainstorm, trust me on this: Music has your back. Always.
