Who Taught You Your Taste?
How many times have you felt like you’ve lost yourself? Or worse like you’re about to lose yourself again?
There was a moment when the loops finally stopped. You remember how happy you were. How light everything suddenly felt. You thought, this time, it’s different.
And maybe it was. For a while. Then slowly, almost quietly, the story you and your person were writing started to sound strangely familiar. Different names, different places, different circumstances but somehow, the same rhythm.
The same conversations.
The same feelings.
The same questions you thought you had already answered.
Until one day you realise that the story in front of you looks a little too much like the other stories you have already lived, experienced, read and promised yourself you wouldn’t write again.
So what’s the point of growing up if the playlist doesn’t change at all?
Of course you know how to sing it this time.
You’ve learned the lyrics.
You’ve listened to that playlist for ages.
You know exactly when the beat drops, when the chorus begins, when you should stay quiet, when you should leave, when you should forgive, when you should pretend you don’t care.
You’ve become so good at singing along that sometimes you mistake knowing the lyrics for knowing yourself.
And yet, you’re waiting to hear something different.
You want a different sound.
A different feeling.
Maybe even a different ending.
While you’re not changing the playlist at all. What did you expect?
How did you think that was possible?
Maybe that is one of the strangest things about us. We desperately want new experiences while remaining loyal to the patterns that keep creating the old ones.
We want a different kind of love but keep being attracted to the same kind of familiarity. We want peace but still recognise chaos faster.
We want to become someone new while protecting every habit of the person we used to be. And because familiarity feels safe, we rarely question it.
We simply call it our taste
That’s just the kind of person I like.
That’s just how I am.
That’s what feels like me.
But is it?
Or have you simply listened to the same playlist for so long that you forgot there was other music?
Isn’t it too late to change your music taste?
Nah.
It’s not.
We are learning. We are feeling differently every other day. We meet people, lose people, travel somewhere new, read something that stays with us, hear a sentence at the right moment, get disappointed, fall in love, fall out of love, change our minds and sometimes wake up not completely understanding the person we were only a year ago.
How could our taste possibly remain untouched by all of that?
Our personalities are far more flexible than we like to believe especially when there is a genuine hunger to glow up from heart to toe.
And glowing up was never supposed to mean just looking different.
Sometimes the biggest glow-up is becoming unfamiliar to the version of yourself who kept choosing the same things. Maybe growing up isn’t about learning the lyrics better.
Maybe it’s about recognising when you don’t want to sing them anymore.
Because there comes a point when knowing exactly how the story ends is no longer wisdom.
It’s repetition.
And repetition can be comforting.
There is something almost addictive about knowing what comes next, even when what comes next hurts you. At least you know your role. At least you know the melody. At least you know when to come in.
A new song asks something different from you
You might not know the words.
You might miss the beat.
You might even hate it the first time you hear it.
And maybe that is why we return to our old playlists so easily. Not because they are better, but because we already know who we are when they are playing.
Changing your music taste means allowing yourself to become someone you haven’t met yet
It means questioning things you once thought were simply part of you.
Your type.
Your habits.
Your reactions.
The people you chase.
The things you tolerate.
The things you call beautiful.
Even the version of yourself you have spent years introducing to everyone else.
It doesn’t mean the old music was bad.
Some songs were exactly what you needed when you found them.
Some people were exactly who you needed to meet.
Some versions of you were necessary to survive places you no longer live in.
You don’t have to hate an old song to stop listening to it.
You don’t have to regret a chapter to stop rewriting it.
You don’t have to dislike who you were to become someone she wouldn’t recognise.
You can simply say:
I loved this once
It sounded like me once.
It doesn’t anymore.
And then comes the uncomfortable part.
The silence.
Because when you finally stop playing the old playlist, the new one doesn’t magically start.
For a while, there might be nothing
No familiar chorus.
No predictable ending.
No lyrics waiting on your tongue.
Just you.
And maybe that is why so many of us press play again.
Silence can feel a lot like being lost when you have spent years using noise to tell you who you are.
But what if you’re not lost?
What if, for the first time, you simply don’t know the lyrics?
Maybe that’s the point.
Maybe growing up isn’t becoming better at singing the songs life has already taught you.
Maybe it’s developing the courage to say,
Nah.
I’ve heard this one before.
And pressing skip.
Not because you know exactly what you want to hear next.
But because you finally know what you don’t want to keep listening to.
Your taste will change
Let it
Your definition of love will change.
Your idea of beauty will change.
The people who feel like home will change.
The life that once looked perfect to you might one day feel too small.
Let it.
You are not supposed to spend your entire life proving that the person you once were had perfect taste.
You are allowed to outgrow your own choices.
You are allowed to surprise yourself.
You are allowed to hear something completely different and think,
Wait.
Maybe this sounds more like me.
And if one day you catch yourself humming the old song again?
That’s okay.
You already know the lyrics.
Just remember:
knowing how to sing a song doesn’t mean you have to put it back on your playlist.