I Have a Relationship With My Music

By: Aneesha Mahapatra

I’ve never told anyone this, but music has always been one of my love languages. I can’t really explain how it makes me feel, it’s more of a sensation that lives somewhere between intensity and serenity. I have to listen to music for at least six hours a day or I’ll quite literally go insane. Each song is like a breath of fresh air, a way to step out of my own head and into another world. Music lets me imagine different scenarios, replay old memories, or even create ones that don’t exist yet.

There’s a song for basically everything- every feeling, every heartbreak, every “moving on” moment, every depressive or anxious mood, and even when you’re going through it and don’t know what you’re feeling.  

My Personal Music Choices

When I’m sad or lonely, I like to play “making the bed”, “traitor”, “teenage dream” by Olivia Rodrigo, who’s younger than me, but someone I can easily relate to as she’s probably gone through the same shit as I have. Those kinds of songs feel like they were written in the middle of a breakdown but told in a way so raw you almost forget to cry.

Sometimes, I’ll find myself deep in Taylor Swift’s “The Tortured Poets Department”, “Reputation”, or “Folklore”, three albums that feel like literary masterpieces disguised as pop music. They’re brutally honest and almost too self-aware, like pages ripped straight from a diary you weren’t supposed to read. 

There’s something so comforting about the way Taylor turns heartbreak into poetry and something so intellectual because it reminds you that pain can still be beautiful. Honestly, I’ll never understand the Taylor Swift hate because almost every one of her songs feels like something I’ve lived through, just told with better words and instruments. 

When I travel or find myself wanting to escape from reality, I obviously turn to the “Call Me By Your Name” soundtrack or even the “Monte Carlo” discography. There’s something cinematic about curating the perfect soundtrack for where you are because it makes life feel like a movie, even if it’s just me staring out a window or walking through a new city knowing everything about myself is about to change. Living in NYC, I tend to play the “Nerve” soundtrack on my walks back home from work so I feel a rush of energy as if I’m a part of something bigger or need something more dramatic to add to my routined life.

When I know I need to move on, “Silver Springs” by Fleetwood Mac feels like closure in song form. It’s the kind of song that captures the calm after the storm, that moment when you finally make peace with the past. Lorde’s “Supercut”, “Motion Sickness” by Phoebe Bridgers, and “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron carry that same kind of weight. They’re songs that don’t just play in the background but help you heal without even realizing it.

Someone who has been a constant for me is Lana Del Rey. Whether I’m feeling romantic, chaotic, or inspired, I always go back to her. I love how unapologetically herself she is, unafraid to say exactly what she wants. Even though sometimes her lyrics may be seen as problematic, they feel like modern poetry, the kind you could study in a media literacy class exploring desire, femininity, and power in the same way a great female author writes a romance novel.

My Relationship With Music

I’ve never even been in love, but that hasn’t stopped me from having a playlist full of it. I catch myself imagining moments I’ve never had, whether it’s conversations that only exist in my head, emotions I’ve never actually gone through, or even pretending I’m Belly in “The Summer I Turned Pretty” experiencing everything a girl in her 20s should. Guilty, but I’m a hopeless romantic at heart, and music lets me immerse myself in all the feelings I don’t get to in real life. Every song becomes a story I can step into, a way to explore love, yearning, and loss without leaving my room. It’s not real for me right now, but it’s comforting to process and understand things I’m still figuring out.

I’ve gone through almost every music phase imaginable: indie, alt, EDM, pop, rap, rock, and more. I like to think of myself as a fan of all genres because each one captures a different version of me. Some days it’s The Neighbourhood, Olivia Dean, Arctic Monkeys, or Cigarettes After Sex on repeat, other days it’s Tate McRae, Gracie Abrams, or Billie Eilish when I’ve decided to overthink. Sometimes, I’ll put on John Summit, FISHER, or Dom Dolla so I can pretend I’m backstage, drinking tequila even though it’s just blaring through my brown headphones at work. 

My playlists are more than just songs, they’re my therapy sessions, journal entries, and love letters to the broken, restless, evolving, and hopeful parts of myself. I don’t feel bad for feeling so much when I listen to music, because these artists have felt it too. That’s what makes it so human. It’s the one thing that reminds me I’m never truly alone in how I feel.