Self Reflection in Self Isolation

Or basically, what I’m learning about myself and who I am while in quarantine.

We likely all aren’t spending our days doing the exact same things, but I took this as a chance for me to do some thoughtful introspection. 

My room at home is one that I haven’t stayed in for this long since high school. Remnants of my youth are unavoidable as I scour my surroundings for things to do, things to keep me busy and grab my attention if not for an hour. And so I (literally) dusted off my hot pink vinyl record player that made me feel like I was cooler than anyone when I got it on my sixteenth birthday. 

I had my heart set on owning one because I firmly believed it was the best way to listen to my latest obsession, The Beatles. And for a long time it was. My collection grew larger as I bought album after album from the Beatles and associated musicians-- Simon & Garfunkel, Elton John, the Stones, etc. 

I realize my music taste has changed, grown, evolved. Not only that, but my passions, too. I have a new love for entertainment, for films both old and new. Having refrained from online shopping since the start of quarantine, I indulged in purchasing vinyl records that merged my new interests-- motion picture soundtracks to Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, The Greatest Showman, Bohemian Rhapsody. Call Me By Your Name was too expensive; I had to draw the line somewhere.

A few days ago, it was hinted that there might be a One Direction reunion, which would make sense as the band’s ten-year anniversary is coming up in July. The idea danced in my mind and plagued my thoughts for so long that I felt as if I had to look through my old paraphernalia. Pictures, videos, merch, all of it (thankfully social media posts from my stan account days have since been deleted). It all made me sad, as waves of melancholy washed over me while I reminisced about something that had once made me so happy for so long. 

But I understand now that I am still all of these things, and that I can cherish who they made me instead of mourning what I once had. They still hold the same meaning after all these years. 

I haven’t sat at a desk in this room since early high school. After redoing my room and opting for a vanity as opposed to a desk, I got by doing homework at the dining table. I don’t know why, but I preferred it that way. 

But all of that is different now, being home again and needing my own space for online classes. So I turned my dresser into a desk, and by that I mean I’ve merely added a chair and a laptop. Over the days, the coffee stains grow, the pens scatter, and the notes all over the place. To my right is my list of all the films I’ve missed out on that I want to see, and all the new ones that I’m anticipating. To my left, my hot pink vinyl record player soothes me with Simon & Garfunkel. Above me, posters of The Beatles and one of One Direction surround the space. As I take a step back from my desk/dresser, I breathe it all in, drinking in a combination of an old me, and a new me. I am all of it. 

This is me, and it always will be. There’s no longer fear over leaving who I was behind because I know I’ll take it with me wherever I go.

I am the music I listen to, the films I watch, and the stories I write.

What are you?