Say it ain't so that my father said this

"You're just kids from my last marriage" are words no child wants to hear, least of them a teenage boy long-desiring affirmation from an emotionally absent father. As sad as this was to hear I admit looking back that I don't think I was so surprised especially considering this came from a man who deemed feelings for the weak which were to be exorcised by insults and beatings. But what it did do was set the course for this teenage boy to expand his musical outlets. Up until this point, being raised by my father came with listening to the music of his own teenage angst-filled years: Dio, Sabbath, Led Zep, Iron Maiden, and so on. And while nothing wrong with that playlist for anyone to air-fist it or punch a wall to, I remember it never did anything for me when it came letting my angst air out, no matter how many times I watched Kevin Bacon blare Quiet Riot's "Metal Health" from his yellow VW ("Footloose", y'all!).

It was a couple of weeks after hearing this statement from my father that I heard the lyrics, "Somebody's Heine is crowding my icebox"; from this moment I was hooked and for the next 4+ minutes nothing else was going to grab my attention. By the time Rivers belts the end of the bridge, I found myself shouting, "Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah" not only in response to the emotionally-charged guitar solo but also to this life-altering moment which I (at last!) discovered an outlet to find relief and comfort. Because not only did "Say It Ain't So" begin my teenage-angst playlist, it also, for better and worse, allowed me to find an identity in how I processed everything that would piss me off.

From that moment, the playlist would grow more extensive, and prominently featuring more Geek/Prog Rock, from Linkin Park's "Runaway" and "Easier to Run" to The White Stripes "Seven Nation Army" to Cake's cover of "I Will Survive" to eventually include the entirety of The Killers' "Hot Fuss". As eclectic as the playlist seems now, the emotion in each lyric, hook, and drop allowed me to channel both my individuality and my own reality: a world in which I "escaped" all that I so desperately desired to experience from my father. And it worked- for a time.

As an adult I look back now and realize that, as great as that playlist was, all I did was become a shut-in for my feelings, developing into an emotionally incompetent 30-something. Even though all I wanted for so long was to be accepted for who I was and to experience affirmation that there was nothing wrong with me, all I did was allow those unfulfilled desires to simmer underneath until, as an adult, I could no longer hide behind playlists, but rather had to learn to responsibly deal with real-life situations. The unlearned lesson of loving myself regardless of who else doesn't has led me to become a 35-year old father of 3, who is currently separated from his wife of 11 years. All this because I choose to chase the affirmation of father-like men rather than allowing myself to love the one person who has loved me unparalleled to anyone on this planet. And there is no playlist that can take away or change my current situation. And although the playlist helped me 'escape' my current reality, I look back now and realize that while my angst was real and justified, the escaping into another reality only caused me to run away from IRL only to live a harsher IRL. Even today, I revisit this playlist (thank you, Spotify) and experience a more whole view of not only the real feelings and pain that overcome me, but also the realization that I can no longer just 'escape' but to live step by step while feeling all the feels.

Playlists still serve in helping me accept that feeling all the feels is normal and perfectly acceptable. This is important for me to realize because out of all the things I can't take with me when I die, my three kids are by far the most meaningful. I must seek to become more whole in the midst of pain in order for me to help my kids know how to competently process their emotions. Because at the end of the day, even with all the love I can pour onto them, there will be issues and I would rather my kids use their teen angst playlists to fuel a conversation about what's bothering them, always being secure in knowing, no matter what, they will never hear the words "you're just kids from my last marriage".