The Genre-Less Life

When I was in high school, I never did find my “circle.” 

I was in musicals and loved everybody, but wasn’t in the “theatre kids “group.  I played volleyball and softball, but I was mediocre at best, and I wasn’t a part of the “die-hard sports” click.  I liked the hipsters and the hippies, but I never got into skating or weed, so I wasn’t fully indoctrinated into either club.  Same went for the debaters and the chess team…I just never really went all in. 

This genre-less life has followed me into the present. This week, I got a letter from Pandora saying my bluegrass band—Stone Blind Valentine—was accepted to its list of artists.  Apparently, SBV falls into a very specific category, and therefore has a home at Pandora. 

Emily Hurd is still rejected, though. 

I’ve been reflecting on this event this week, and I’ve made a decision: I love not being anything in particular. 

Not that I have a problem with those that happen to fall into a niche.  I’ve just finally come to realize that I don’t need to be easily labeled. Sometimes I’m a little bluesy. Sometimes a little rock. I like quiet nights and also loud nights in my favorite bar. I like to paint a little and woodwork a little and cook a little. I’m equal parts emotional and logical.  Sometimes I feel like singing twangy, and other times jazzy. And if all of those things make it hard for me to find a home in any industry, well then I suppose I’m also happy to be without any “home” besides the one I’m building for myself.  

I hope you had a wonderful week, Reader, and if you too find yourself in the middle of a strange Venn diagram, belonging to every circle, but to none in particular, then three cheers to you as well.  Here’s to being nothing but yourself. -Em

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