Lynn’s Story
My story is complicated, yet motivational My life has been a constant struggle, and I have faced many trials and complications since I was a child. Music and the arts have been my saving grace, and have given me not only the opportunity to express myself, but also have helped me to transform myself into a more confident person. Music has helped me to learn about who I am, and has also helped me to learn about others. Understanding the language of music has helped me to better communicate with people and most importantly to know and embrace unique differences in each of us. We are all defined by our experiences, our struggles, and our triumphs. I hope you find some inspiration in this story.
It all begins with a troubled teenager looking for a way to find herself. As a child who suffered many battles with eating disorders, depression, and anxiety, I was always struggling to love myself as a young person. I did not have confidence. I did not think very highly of myself. I was always trying to change my weight, change my hair color, or even change my personality so that I would be accepted by others. This was not very successful. Other kids had often bullied me in elementary school. I was creative, artistic, and maybe a little weird, and that was not very acceptable in the 1990’s.
The piano was my first love. Dad traded a motorcycle for my first old upright piano when I was seven years old. From there he taught me to play chords and accompany him while he jammed on his guitar. We would sing and play together often. I can remember his band buddies coming by, and dad telling them, “check this out” as I played Eric Clapton’s “Layla” on those old ivory keys. I was proud of myself at age 8, and although that pride would be a struggle to find in my troubled years, it would be there for me when I needed it later in life.
As a high school student I remained into music. I was always singing in church choir, playing the piano for mass, and even participated in my high school choirs. It was my amazing choral director that would inspire me to become a professional musician and music teacher. He not only gave me the skills vocally, but flooded our advanced choir with a wealth of musical theory. He would also see a talent in me that others may have overlooked, putting a trombone in my hand during my junior year. I would go on to perform that trombone at a few concerts at the Sheldon Concert Hall here in Saint Louis. What an honor it was to be recognized as the only student trombonist that first year. I was filled with pride that he recognized me, and shared with the audience that I had accomplished that instrument in only a few months of studying.
Singing in choral ensembles was the love of my life in high school. Our choir advanced to national and international levels, touring Cathedrals in Europe during the summer of my senior year. I was always singing or playing the keys, and I loved it whole heartedly. Struggles socially were not as bad for me in high school, and my confidence was slowly building. I finally found the courage to audition for a solo, and was able to land the part of Belle in a mini musical ensemble we did. This was a huge accomplishment for the socially shy person who didn’t think very highly of myself in my early adolescent years.
My early adult years would present many challenges, domestic violence being one that would change my personality forever. Having multiple partners who were both mentally and physically abusive took my confidence back down to lower that what it had been as a child. Not only did the abuse cause me to dim down my talent, but it left me with irreversible physical damage that would remain for the rest of my life. So many countless performances taught me to remain in performance mode, even if a crisis just happened prior to going on stage. So many times I would get into a fight with my really mean boyfriend, then have to go right on stage. I don’t know why abusive folks like to hurt you before important events, but I think it is their goal to stomp on our confidence. This tragic experience helped me to learn that having music in my life is a blessing no one can take away from me.
As a teen and early adult I began teaching music lessons: first for a local music studio, and later on my own. It was a joy to help inspire others to be musicians. It was an honor to help others express themselves and learn to be more confident performers. Although I struggled with this confidence myself, I continued to work on my stage presence and composure, vowing never to let them see the struggle that laid underneath the mask. I continued teaching, opened my own business, and even hired lots of other teachers to work for my nonprofit, Prestige Performers, Inc. I went to music school, and ended up with my Bachelor of Arts in Music. I was so proud of myself for finishing despite my adversities.
Fast forwarding a decade or two would bring me to my late 30’s where I would begin to struggle with more health related issues. While I was always in pain as a child and teen, I just thought that pain came along with a performer. After all, I had danced for almost 2 decades. I was always involved with soccer and other sports, and I sat at the piano for long hours. Regular shoulder massages was always a part of our choral practices, and I figured everyone who performed was just in pain. I would come to find out after a thyroid surgery and new diagnoses, that everyone is not in fact suffering constantly. Having surgery on my neck area presented me with many challenges. For almost 10 years I no longer could sing. My muscles were so severely strained that I could not get my sound out. My hands have carpel tunnel, and I learned of a new condition I had previously never known : Ehler’s Danlos Syndrome, or EDS.
EDS causes severe pain constantly. It causes ligament tears often, muscle tension in extreme levels, and instability in my joints. I won’t mention the more life threatening and internal cardiological and gastrointestinal issues that are very scary to suddenly have thrown at you as a single mom of 2 young boys. Throwing my hips out of place began to happen often. I tore a ligament in one of my fingers, preventing me from playing my guitar for more than five years. I had to re-learn how to walk at 40 years old, because apparently I was doing it wrong all those years.
I began seeking counseling as my health began to deteriorate, and eventually would be told by a therapist that I was pretty and privileged, looking down on me for even coming to Places for People, because they did not see why I was seeking mental health counseling. If I was pretty and seemingly put together I did not need help, and certainly not the help of her. This set me back tremendously as I realized people do not see me as someone with a disability, but rather on the outside I still appear to have it all together. That performance presence would begin to haunt me as I realized others could not see my suffering, and did no believe it some of the time. The truth is, I was not put together but rather I was falling apart, suffering from osteoarthritis, degenerative disc disease, and SO much damage to my spine and neck that even massage therapists are shocked when they get into feeling around on my muscles. One of my arms was ripped out of place by my college boyfriend, the first one who really put his hands on me. It never recovered. My neck was permanently damaged by having it thrown through windows, and I cannot move it from left to right normally. None of this will ever be cured, and I went into a depression about this diagnosis that almost prevented me from ever singing or playing again.
Then one day I just decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. I continue to suffer from professional attacks, criticisms for my outspoken nature, and have even suffered a loss of family who did not understand that my disease and experiences had left me with a disability that no one could see on the outside. Would I have degeneration on my discs and permanent neck/ spine damage if I had not been thrown around so much as a young adult? Probably , but it wouldn’t be as severe. I would eventually learn as an adult that even if I have a partner who is yelling at me constantly, I can STILL learn to love myself. So that is what I started to do. Injuries set aside I picked up my guitar and just started playing again. Working through the pain of having torn ligaments is hard. But playing a string instrument with one is nearly impossible. But that did not and will not stop me. I was finally able to push past the bullies at school, the bullies on social media trying to bring my successes down to nothing, and the bullies at the mental health facilities telling me nothing was wrong with me, and I was a privileged pretty girl. Now I have regular counseling, regular music therapy, and I enjoy teaching using the therapeutic techniques I have developed over the years.
I am a songwriter, and have composed dozens of songs. I perform out for events, and still get hired to do weddings and special occasions. I have recorded for multiple bands and other professional musicians. I became highly recommended in the vocal coaching arena, and I have been successful at playing and teaching multiple instruments. Starting with that good ole upright piano and a dad who could shred that electric guitar like no one else I knew. Now I am fluent on guitar, comfortable on cello and viola, and have experience playing the sax, trombone, and multiple percussion instruments. I still love jamming and composing on the keys, and my favorite thing to do is write and organize curriculum for my students. I now play through the pain, and it makes me stronger every day.
I won’t ever give up music again, no matter how many people tell me I am not worth anything, or that I cause problems, or that I am too pretty or not pretty enough, or too opinionated, too loud, not loud enough, you get the point. I don’t care what others think about me anymore. I have accomplished real confidence. But I would never have been able to do this if it were not for music. Now I live to inspire others through my art, and through their own creativity. It is my job to tap into my students’ strengths and weaknesses, and help them shine as individuals, as performers, and as confident and creative humans.
