From Reluctance to Rhythm: How Drums Became My Sanctuary

I had been toying with the idea for a couple of years, and at the top of 2023, I finally bought my very own sleek Pearl drum set. It wasn't just any set; it was my favorite color and shade of green with chrome, pearly white unmarked heads, and the sound was pure magic. From the moment I set it up in the "music room" upstairs, the air seemed to buzz with potential. My sticks felt like extensions of my hands the moment I began to play, with each beat filling the room with rhythm and raw energy.

Every day after work, I would rush home with the mindset, "I'm ready to let the drums carry me away." My fingers danced across the cymbals, and the kick drum felt like the pulse of a heartbeat. Whether I was practicing basic jams or losing myself in wild solos, the drums became my therapy, a sweet release from the chaos of the world. In the moment I could forget everything: my past, the heartbreak, and even the stress of my career as a nurse. The only things that mattered were the beat, keeping time, and the oftentimes the crash.

One night, while hammering out a new rhythm, I felt something shift inside me. It was like the music was no longer coming from my hands, but from my soul. Every strike was a declaration of my passion, perseverance, and the savage fight I had endured. The walls inside the loft - aka "music room" - shook with sound, and for a moment, I imagined myself on a stage, as the crowd would roar and move in sync with my rhythm.

After I was finished playing, I leaned back, and I smiled happy tears. I didn't need a crowd. I played for myself, for the person I fought to become. My drum set isn't just an instrument, but a reminder of my journey, and every beat carried strength that I reclaimed.