Coming-of-age is a Vantage column where staffers share their opinions on a specific beat. From in-depth analyses of TV series to miscellaneous musings in music (and everything in between), this monthly column is an avenue to spread and inspire thought-provoking ideas.
In this column, Vantage Magazine Editor Mikaela shares a secret: Every person she’s ever had feelings for has a playlist dedicated to them.
I’m not proud of the first playlist I ever made.
It exists, nonetheless, on an abandoned 8tracks account—featuring songs like Best Friend by Jason Chen and Crush by David Archuleta. Never one for elusiveness, I had made it crystal clear in the title who inspired the mix: “For my BFF Patrick.”
I remember curating it on the ancient computers of my school library, listening to artists and bands crooning about the woes of falling in love with your best friend. I was around 10 years old at that time, so I’m not quite sure what leg I had to stand on. Nonetheless, I remember how great it felt to find a song that fit exactly what I felt.
I closed and published that playlist with the classic Terrified by Katherine McPhee. Patrick never got to listen to it, but it is still out there somewhere on the interwebs.
While I wish I could say I stopped there, my complete unhingedness when it comes to exposing my affections through playlists continues to this day. Every person I have had a minute of a crush on has a mix dedicated to them. Every person I have dated probably has several.
The mixes followed either of the two themes: Songs I thought they might like or songs that reminded me of them. During the earlier years, I learned how to burn CDs and where to buy cheap USBs so I could compile the songs I’d downloaded off of YouTube. Later on, I would move on to sites and applications like 8tracks, Favtape, and Spotify.
I’ve since stopped outright name-dropping people in the titles, although the labels are not any less subtle on who the mix is for. With the likes of “Climbing the Great Wall” and “I owe you a Magis lecture,” it will only take a keen eye—and maybe a listen or two—to figure out who prompted the playlist.
I realize now that revealing all this takes away the obscurity I’ve tried so hard to hide behind, but I’m tired of letting songs speak for me.
Emotional expression is hard; making playlists has been my easy way out. I used to think it was okay to never admit things aloud because there would always be a track that could say exactly what I wanted to. For years, then, I simply resolved to associating people with songs—and never telling them how I actually felt.
This isn’t limited to romance. I’ve made playlists for friends and family, always assuming that they’d be able to read between the lines and figure out what I wanted them to know. Making playlists has given me an excuse to censor my sentiments, which is unfair to anyone and everyone who deserved to hear something from me.
I won’t deny that music reaches some of the places words fall short in. For that reason, I know that I will still keep a lookout for songs that capture the feelings I can’t articulate.
But much like the playlists I know I won’t stop making anytime soon, this article has been a confession in itself. It’s an admission of cowardice and a promise that I will grant the people in my life a little more honesty—one that doesn’t require a Spotify account.
