My husband and sons have beautiful singing voices. The youngest may in fact pursue it as a career. His voice gives me goosebumps and has on occasion moved me to tears. Apparently my voice can make my sons cry too.
I would love to be able to sing but I am not genetically gifted in that way. But I don’t mind belting out the odd tune in the car, especially when there is an ’80s dance track on the radio. As you can imagine, it goes down like a lead balloon, although my 15-year-old is very kind about it: “that didn’t sound anyway near as bad as the other song mum”.
I share the pain of those rejected contestants on TV shows like X-Factor and Australian Idol. I feel for the people who take to the stage believing they can sing, while the audience is wondering why their family and friends would let them go on with the delusion. I am fortunate to have people who love me enough to tell me the truth. The truth hurts but it doesn’t mean that I should give up. That’s not in my DNA either.
Singing and dancing are great forms of stress release. Most Sunday mornings my sons wake up to my singing (and dancing) in the kitchen while preparing their breakfast. They are extremely familiar with the best of disco, although they may not describe it in such terms. I challenge you to listen to one of my personal favourites in the clip above and not break out in song.
If you are a closet/car/shower singer who wants to break free, perhaps this how-to-sing video could help. I am going to give it a shot (when I’m at home alone) this weekend.
Enjoy and sing your heart out. I will be.
