I miss the days when the only voice in my head was my own and I could create stories and build worlds with my army of toys. But as I grew up, I lost my toys, I lost my valor, and others’ voices creeped into my mind poisoning what was once pure. And though it’s taken me a while, I’m finally ready to reclaim my youth, my voice, and my life. I can never be that little kid again, but I am sure as hell going to try.
This is some beautiful mana’o Aidan🤙🏽 I appreciate your writing so much. You’ve changed my life for good ;)
So insightful, so thoughtful, so full of meaning and heartfelt warmth. Your voice is like a balm, the picture of you as a kid, just incredible. I love you….😘.❤️💕
I related a lot to that. For years I wanted to be a singer songwriter my lyrics became my therapy and most will never be heard. But in learning that trade I started to hate the writing and music. I couldn't wrap my head around the theory basics. And the free flow became stagnant. I lost joy in it and became frustrated and therefore my dream diminished. I still write songs but I doubt ill find the audience to enjoy them.
Losing flow is a really heartbreaking thing. I've felt it deeply, and knowing that others have felt it makes me just as sad. Here's hoping we all find some of that joy again! ❤️
Dont be sad, as I also know that in those moments of losing flow of creativity, it can be a moment to reflect on the other things happening in our lives. And I know that someday ill go back to songwriting. When the time and circumstances are in order x
I can relate to your piece quite a bit and enjoyed hearing your conscious reframe of holding onto your artistic expression for its own sake. Carry on! W
Omg Aidan I cried (happy tears) towards the end of this video. I really resonated with what you said; as a mother of a teen who is fascinated by theater and is a theater kid himself I have learned how to be more authentic like your “muddy kid” ❤️❤️❤️ I know I’m not that old but when I see you I see one of my sons and it warms my heart.
Giuliana, thank you so much for this note. It warms my heart just as much to read it. I so appreciate your sharing and wish your son all the best in his theatre love!
As if your writing wasn't raw and emotional enough, you had to drop in A Little Life 😭 I find myself most in tune with what I want to say, and how I want to say it, when I am having the mental conversation with my younger self. These take place in the same places my younger self would cozy into when the world was too difficult, or others were coming too close to finding out my big gay secret: under the hot water of a long shower, in-between paragraphs while reading, or lost in a stare toward something in the distance. Then just as quickly as my voice crystallizes, it's gone. Chipped away and mutated into something I assume others will want to hear more than what was in its original form. It takes moments to build up the walls of doubt and self censorship, but years more to break them down. Thank you for sharing so warmly on this shared experience so many of us are grappling with.
May we all be more like the kid in the mud. Thank you for sharing this my love ❤️❤️
Thank you for always supporting that kid in the mud babe!
I miss the days when the only voice in my head was my own and I could create stories and build worlds with my army of toys. But as I grew up, I lost my toys, I lost my valor, and others’ voices creeped into my mind poisoning what was once pure. And though it’s taken me a while, I’m finally ready to reclaim my youth, my voice, and my life. I can never be that little kid again, but I am sure as hell going to try.
This is some beautiful mana’o Aidan🤙🏽 I appreciate your writing so much. You’ve changed my life for good ;)
Aww thank you, MJ! We certainly can never go back, but we can pull our pasts into the future. I'm so glad you're a part of my community here!
So insightful, so thoughtful, so full of meaning and heartfelt warmth. Your voice is like a balm, the picture of you as a kid, just incredible. I love you….😘.❤️💕
Thanks pops! Love you!
I related a lot to that. For years I wanted to be a singer songwriter my lyrics became my therapy and most will never be heard. But in learning that trade I started to hate the writing and music. I couldn't wrap my head around the theory basics. And the free flow became stagnant. I lost joy in it and became frustrated and therefore my dream diminished. I still write songs but I doubt ill find the audience to enjoy them.
Losing flow is a really heartbreaking thing. I've felt it deeply, and knowing that others have felt it makes me just as sad. Here's hoping we all find some of that joy again! ❤️
Dont be sad, as I also know that in those moments of losing flow of creativity, it can be a moment to reflect on the other things happening in our lives. And I know that someday ill go back to songwriting. When the time and circumstances are in order x
I can relate to your piece quite a bit and enjoyed hearing your conscious reframe of holding onto your artistic expression for its own sake. Carry on! W
Thank you so much William!
Really beautiful. And love the audio option!
Aww, thank you Julie!
It’s easiest for me to speak my truth when there’s nothing to lose… the more there is to lose, the harder it is to be myself… ugh!
Your writing is so beautiful and I love hearing more about what you were like as a kid since I missed most of it ❤️
Totally! As the stakes increase, everything becomes harder, I wish it was the other way around!
Omg Aidan I cried (happy tears) towards the end of this video. I really resonated with what you said; as a mother of a teen who is fascinated by theater and is a theater kid himself I have learned how to be more authentic like your “muddy kid” ❤️❤️❤️ I know I’m not that old but when I see you I see one of my sons and it warms my heart.
Giuliana, thank you so much for this note. It warms my heart just as much to read it. I so appreciate your sharing and wish your son all the best in his theatre love!
As if your writing wasn't raw and emotional enough, you had to drop in A Little Life 😭 I find myself most in tune with what I want to say, and how I want to say it, when I am having the mental conversation with my younger self. These take place in the same places my younger self would cozy into when the world was too difficult, or others were coming too close to finding out my big gay secret: under the hot water of a long shower, in-between paragraphs while reading, or lost in a stare toward something in the distance. Then just as quickly as my voice crystallizes, it's gone. Chipped away and mutated into something I assume others will want to hear more than what was in its original form. It takes moments to build up the walls of doubt and self censorship, but years more to break them down. Thank you for sharing so warmly on this shared experience so many of us are grappling with.