Today's blog is courtesy of Claire Ashby, author of When You Make It Home, a new release from Red Adept Publishing.
I remember the first time my first boyfriend ever criticized me. We were sixteen, cruising around in my ’76 Ford Granada. A Jane’s Addiction song came on the radio, so I cranked the volume all the way up and started singing.
There I was, singing like my life depended on it, next to my first love. The sky was brilliant, sunny and crowded with fluffy suspended clouds. Surely it was spring, warm, but not too warm. My love turned to me, smiling and said, “I hate it when you sing.”
After that day I didn’t sing around anyone again for a really long time. After all, he was right. I was a terrible singer. Why should I punish those around me with my voice? I reconciled myself to keep it to the shower or when driving alone.
When I began dating future hubs, we discovered that we cherished all the same music. We’d hang out and cook together, listening to tunes. Future hubs got into his music, singing and dancing. Sometimes I’d softly sing along, too, only if I wasn’t standing too close to him.
About a month after we met, we went on a road trip to check out a college band. On the drive future hubs popped in a Weezer CD and started wailing along. I joined him, but in my special soundless mouthing-the-words-sing-a-long. He suddenly turned to me, smiling and said, “Sing it like you mean it.”
I said, “Trust me, you don’t want to hear me sing.”
He said, “Trust me, I do.”
It felt like a dare. Thankfully, cars today have louder speakers than my old ’76 Granada. I leaned over, cranked up the volume and put all my heart into singing that song. Future hubs joined in, his eyes crinkling at the sides while he laughed, cringing.
“That was awesome,” he said when the song ended.
At that moment, I knew there was something different about future hubs from every other guy I’d ever dated. He loved watching me let go and enjoy myself. So we sang the rest of the way to that college bar, and when we got there I did something else I never did around other people. I danced. If there is one thing I’m worse at than singing, it’s dancing. But future hubs and I danced all night.
When you find that special someone, you don’t have to hide your imperfections. That’s my favorite part in romance novels—that moment when someone says: Trust me, I want to know you.
When You Make It Home is available on Amazon
Author page on Red Adept: http://redadeptpublishing.com/claire-ashby/