I was like any other young girl in the world, and wanted to be a famous pop star when I grew up. I would prance around my bedroom, with my hairbrush as my microphone. I would get very excited about finding a karaoke album with up to date pop songs, so that I could really show off how great I was.
Problem was, I could never actually sing out loud in front of other people. Not a good start to a career in the music business, eh?
The moment I realised I was not actually going to make a career out of my voice was when my best friend and I rushed out to buy the new Britney Spears single – Baby, One More Time. She put it on the CD player seconds after we’d walked through the door and launched into the karaoke version with the dance routine and everything. I remember watching and being blown away by how much better her voice was than mine, and how much more dedicated she must have been to have learnt the dance routine before the single was even released.
After that I became a lot more tense about singing in front of people, because I realised that actually – I’m not the best singer in the world. I braved singing with the local amateur dramatics group – but only in the chorus, and I watched the stars of the show with envy.
For the last few years, I haven’t really thought about singing as anything other than a way to pass the time when I’m driving for hours on end. I love to put on the Queen Greatest Hits albums, turn them up loud and sing the miles away. I generally don’t sing around the house, unless I’m by myself, and I make a point of not trying to hold a tune in front of Mr C.
When we returned from our anti-Christmas trip, we were at a loss for things to do. We were too tired to go out, we had watched enough television in the last four days, and were completely stuffed with biscuits (it was a really good break!!). Mr C picked up his guitar, and I sat down to listen. I love to hear him play. As he turned the page, I asked him to play something and he couldn’t remember how it went.
“Sing it for me.”
“Please? Otherwise I can’t play it.”
But, then I did. I sang quietly and he picked it up and we made a tune. We went through several of my piano books, playing and singing and generally having a good time.
What a breakthrough!
After that, there was no stopping me. Whilst I was cooking, I shoved my iPod in my ears (not literally, that would be painful), and danced around the kitchen singing. As I served up the food, the ultimate compliment – the thing I didn’t realise I had been looking for since that fateful Britney Spears incident. “You can sing. It was no Christina Aguilera, but you found the notes and held them and I actually enjoyed listening.”
It doesn’t matter that I’m not the best singer in the world, or even if I’m any good at all. As long as I enjoy what I’m singing, then if anybody happens to be listening, they probably will as well.