I’m sitting in a bar with my dear friend Ari in San Francisco. We’re talking about everything girls talk about while sipping Vodka RedBulls and Rum and Cokes on a Wednesday. Sorry was bumping in the background and Ari’s eyes glittered as she continually expressed her undying Bieber Fever.
“He’s just so…UGH. Like, I know that he’s young so it might not be the best sex I’d ever have but that wouldn’t stop me.”
I philosophically sipped my Energizer Bunny of a cocktail and contemplated her logic.
“But like…who else is on your fuck-it list?”
And we went back and forth. Ryan Gosling, Bradley Cooper, Robert Downey Jr., even Natalie Dormer’s name came out and about. I was searching around on my phone for the name of one of the Property Brothers when I caught the tail end of Ari’s thought.
It was something about needing Creed in her life.
(It should be noted that she was talking about the movie starring Michael B. Jordan. But, as beautiful as he is, is not relevant to the point I’m trying to make.)
“What? Creed? Can you take me higher because no joke, I LOVE Creed.”
And thus began one of the most defining moments of my friendship with Ari.
Will she or will she not judge me for unapologetically liking to jam to one of the most hated bands in the music industry?
She’s privy to one of my secrets and depending on her reaction, it could make or break us.
(She still loves me, but makes fun of me. Because that’s what true friends do.)
And what about you, person reading this as you avoid social interaction? What do you make of my undying need for some smooth, early 2000’s rock and roll? Do you now think the degree I pursued in music is undeserved because of my affinity for this band? Are you dry heaving and rolling your eyes because I am holding my one last breath in anticipation for With Arms Wide Open: A Retrospective?
Well keep rolling your eyes, h8ers. Because I’m here, I feel surprisingly at peace when I hear some power chords, and I’m no longer going to hide it.
Do I do a rousing rendition of Creed hits at karaoke? Yes, yes I do. I love getting raspy and belting out potentially Christian, post-grunge rock ballads. I imagine myself rocking a strange khaki jacket in the middle of an abandoned field and hearing thousands of fans also singing, “Welcome to this place.”
Yeah guys, I will show you everything.
Here’s the truth. When I’m feeling down, depressed, overly suffocated by anxiety, I’m not one of those people who can get down with the sounds of a babbling brook or a rainforest. I need some slightly whiny, slightly ridiculous white boy rock to get me through it. Just listening to one 4 minute and 43 second song where someone has so many feelings makes me feel lighter. I don’t know why, but Creed sooths me.
So here it is. It’s on the internet, it’s out there.
I’m no longer listening with my earbuds down low because I’m worried about someone shaming me because of my music choices. I’m not going to resist hitting the like button on my alt-rock/angst videos because I’m worried someone will see. I’m not going to pretend like I hate these sweet, sweet tunes when they blast in a dive bar.
This is me. And this is my official coming out:
I really dig Creed. And I will not be silenced.