The guilt piano

When I was thirteen years old, I quit playing the piano. I’d been asked to perform someplace in front of hundreds of people and that was exactly hundreds more than the amount of people I felt comfortable playing in front of. Which was exactly one person. I adored the piano and loved that I knew tons of brand new songs. I could hear something once and then just play it. (Which unfortunately meant I lied and pretended I could read music, which I never really understood.) For eight years the piano was a true love of mine. The options in my mind were do the thing I dreaded or quit. So I quit. Holy fuck thirteen year olds are stupid. I hate that I quit when I did and just couldn’t say, no I don’t like to perform, please help me find someone who will teach me just to teach me.

Over the years people have asked me if I could go back and change one thing about my life what would it be. This isn’t number one, but it’s in the top three.

For years my mother just thought I got tired of it and that’s why I quit. Last year I happened to tell her the truth for the first time ever. My following words, which were true, are ones I now regret: I’d love to have a piano and get back into it.

Sigh. Do you see this lovely thing?



I love it so very much. I really do. In theory at least. My mother and step-father gave it to me for my birthday. They are amazing and I love them for it.

I’d hoped it would come back to me. It didn’t. I’d hoped I could re-teach myself by YouTube. I can’t. It’s just another thing I can’t manage to find time or energy to deal with.

It makes me so freaking guilty. It sits there are clean and shiny and waiting for me to play on it. I walk past it 72 times a day and I’ve learned to not look at it.

I wish I’d said, I’d love to re-learn to play the piano when my kids were grown or maybe when I retire. Or something. Something that would have not made them think, oh lets get her a piano!!!

Now it’s my guilt piano. Maybe one day I’ll find a way to change that. Until then…I just won’t look down at it as I walk past.


ps. I know that everyone and their brother reads The Bloggess. This post today? Was the most real thing I’ve read online in a long time. I understand and honestly feel the same way about 99% of the time. I thought I’d share. Because well…I remember that bloggers used to do that.


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