06. taking chances âď¸
âmy song, my stage, my lifeâ â¤ď¸âđĽ
itâs been a while since iâve been like this â jittery, anxious, unable to calm my mind (and heart!) down. everything is racing a million miles a minute. adrenaline coursing through my veins. nothing â not my yoga, not my meditation, not my morning walks â can ease the pounding in my chest. it is a reminder that i am human, and i am alive.
today, for the first time in my 27 years of life, i will be performing one of my favorite childhood songs ON STAGE in front of a crowd of strangers.
it will be with a live rock band. it will be recorded for posterity. i am scared sh*tless.
during the pandemic, when everything was on lockdown and everyday felt exactly the same as the last, i lost sight of moments like this. i forgot what it feels like to have your heart in your throat; to care so deeply, so desperately, about something that it shows up in your body. iâve been living on the edge all week, driven to madness by this anxiety, all my worst fears â about judgment, about failure, about f*cking up, about letting people down â eating away at me. but i survived.
i am here, now, ready to be SEEN. ready to be HEARD. ready to have a freaking good time. â¤ď¸Â 𤪠đ¸đĽ
the above is an excerpt from my journal leading up to my Rockaraoke experience. this entry is going to be a little different â iâm experimenting with a new form of storytelling, taking you through the day with me as things unfold in my mind. it is raw, personal, and extremely vulnerable. enjoy (đĽ´?)!
the thing about life-changing experiences is that they always seem so⌠normal at the beginning. i think i journaled a few days back about how, more than giving myself back my zest for life, performing at Rockaraoke was about re-claiming a part of my identity â my power â that iâd given away for a while now: the girl that always felt uncool, unloved, and unpopular, no matter how many friends she had or how many parties she attended. the girl that felt fat, awkward, lonely. out of place.Â
i felt that identity SO intensely when i first stepped out of Simâs car. i stood in front of REXKL, gawking at all the hip, young, beautiful people standing in droves on the foyer, smoking, laughing, drinking, and generally just reveling in their coolness. it felt like the epicenter of all my teenage trauma: a few beats passed as i stood rooted to the spot, convinced they were all laughing, judging, talking about me.
a woman walked past in the most gorgeous white blouse, with ribbons criss-crossing over her bare back. my carefully curated outfit felt cheap and uninspired. i felt envious of all the flat stomachs and cropped tops; i was melting in the mid-day heat, but i felt the need to cover up my body. i made my way over to the MySejahtera scanner; fumbling with my phone, conscious that i might be holding up a line, i scanned the QR code and stepped over the foyer. and just like that, i was inside the belly of the beast.
the food court was filled with even more people. it felt like a carnival, or a fashion show â all bright colors and loud noise, the buzz of humanity too much for my HSP brain to compute at that moment. i found myself sticking to corners, nearly bumping into people, trying to take all that information in: the booths, the smells, the crowd. everything was so â¨aestheticâ¨, yet i felt like the true beauty of the place was that it felt alive. electrified with laughter, with LIFE, with freedom.
i made my way back into the foyer and up the stairs. posters adorned every surface, the words âROCKARAOKE!â screaming back at me. nervously, i tried to enquire with the staff about my registration â âiâm a performer...?â â only to realize i needed to scan my ticket to get past. as i made my way up a second flight of stairs, the music was so loud; i could barely hear the woman at the counter.
âIâM HERE FOR ROCKARAOKE?â i shouted. âWHAT SONG?â she yelled back.
i looked down at her list. there was my song â âDirty Little Secretâ â but not my name.
âITâS NOT HERE,â i said, panicked. âBUT I PAID. DO YOU NEED TO SEE PROOFâŚ?âÂ
âJUST WRITE DOWN YOUR NAME,â she said, handing me a pen.
i scrawled four letters â âGWENâ â beside the words âAll-American Rejectsâ.
and just like that, my fate was sealed.
the music was so loud my teeth hurt. i squirreled myself away in the bathroom, and it helped, barely. i peed, washed my hands, and stared at my reflection in the mirror. i looked gaunt, scared. out of place. i re-tied my shirt once, twice, a third time. i felt lonely. i wanted to go home. i wanted to be anywhere but here.
thankfully, at that moment, Sim called. she was having trouble with registration. that was when my day started to turn around.
we walked around the food court together and i pointed out stalls that iâd noticed online; suddenly, i was transformed from âmisfit loserâ to âfriendly tour guideâ. we were sipping on samples of organic tea when Gwen Lyne called.
she found us moments later, rocking black eyeliner and her favorite Pierce The Veil shirt. my baby sister looked cool as f*ck; she fit right in. just like that, we were a trio â and i started to feel like i could fit in, too.
time felt like it was on fast-forward from that moment on: we went back upstairs and got our âperformer stickersâ for the show; mine sweated off a few minutes later. the band was just about wrapping up so we took up seats near the stage, waiting for Rockaraoke to start. i remember putting in my AirPods (to dull the sound), and then taking them out again when Collin â the emcee, and founder of Rockaraoke Malaysia â bounded onstage. the lights came back on: a dusky, cool, purple hue.
the band tuned up; i noticed all the old favorites were back â Jaime on the bass, Andy on the guitar. they strung up gorgeous golden baubles around the mic stand; i was too strung up to appreciate it in the moment. Collin roared: âARE YOU READY FOR ROCKARAOKE?â and just like that, it began.
he kicked us off with his own rendition of âAll Starâ by Smash Mouth, and it was just the right song to get everyone going: fun, silly, easy to sing along to. then it was time for the first participant to get on stage. it was a girl, too â and i canât even begin to tell you how much that quelled my nerves. then i found out she would be singing âSugar Weâre Going Downâ by Fall Out Boy⌠and i lost it. i knew i should be conserving my voice, but by the time we hit the second chorus, i was screaming along and jumping around my 2x2 inch of space, trying to contain my excitement at hearing ACTUAL INSTRUMENTS playing one of my FAVORITE SONGS IN THE WORLD. aaahhhhh!Â
before i could find time to catch my breath, one of the organizers walked up. âGwen Sisters? youâre next,â she said, and the only thing i could remember thinking was: âaw, sh*t. well, hereâs goes nothingâŚâ i felt disheveled, thirsty, and NOT AT ALL PREPARED. before going onstage, i made my way over to the first performer and yelled:" âyou were amazing!â her surprised grin melted my fears away. i made my way on stage.
i donât know why i bother having stage fright because 20 years of public speaking means the stage feels like your second home. the moment i stepped up and stared out at the crowd, the stage lights reducing everyone to tiny black figures, i felt centered, calm, and â as always â ready to show my audience a good time.Â
âmy name is Gwen Yi, and my sisterâs name is Gwen Lyne,â i said, the words flowing out of me. âif you are wondering why we have the same name, ask our mom. but the other thing we have in common⌠is our love for punk rock.â the crowd cheered. i felt my heartbeat slow, then still.Â
âthis song means so much to us, so it would be awesome if you all sang along. this is Dirty Little Secret by All American Rejects!â
as the band struck up those iconic opening chords, everything melted away⌠and Gwen Lyne and i proceeded to ROCK the F*CK out. â¤ď¸âđĽđ¸
i came down from the stage in a daze. i barely registered Gwen Lyne saying, âyour ankle â watch your step!â, and helping me down the steps. i rushed over to Sim, who was still recording, and gave her a hug. it was over. it was over. we did it!
people around us smiled, laughed, shouted their congratulations. the girl whoâd performed first â she totally participated in my convoluted show routine â was standing in our corner. âYOU GUYS WERE AMAZING!â she shouted, eyes sparkling. i decided she was my new best friend.
all of a sudden, the woman in the white blouse â the one with the criss-crossing ribbons in the back â was in front of us. âyou guys were amazing!â she smiled. âmy name is Juanita from FlyFM. have you heard about usâŚ?âÂ
the three of us â GL, my new best friend, and myself â nodded mutely. âcome with me, i wanna interview you guys!â she turned on her heel and walked away. i looked at Sim, who gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up. âgo! go! iâll watch over our bags,â she grinned, already vibing to the next song. i smiled, grateful, and ran off.Â
the interview went smoothly â through it, i learned that the first performer was named Ghea, she was doing her Masterâs, and sheâd loved Rockaraoke from the start. she was from Indonesia, and dreamed of becoming a radio announcer. âwhat would you say to anyone listening whoâs worried or afraid about going to live events again?â Juanita asked. âlifeâs too short, so get your sh*t together!â my little sister quipped. and just like that, weâd made our first media debut as the #GwenSisters (LOL jk).
the rest of the day passed in a blur: i remember making our way back up the stairs, and breaking into a run when we found out it was âOnly Oneâ (another old favorite), barely making the ending chorus; i remember running out of water and going on a mini hunt around the whole building â being willing to fork out RM10 for two measly Dasaniâs at the bar, only to find out you could only get them with a RM50 coupon booklet; heading down to the cafĂŠÂ downstairs and shamelessly asking if i could pay them to fill my bottle with filtered water.
the barista was incredibly kind, saying, âaiyo you ask like that, just fill for free la, no worriesâ, which â possibly for the first time that day â made me feel like i fully, wholly, unquestionably belonged đ
Rockaraoke ended as abruptly as it began: with Collin asking for volunteers to sing the last unspoken-for song on the list, âCupidâs Chokeholdâ â the other song i was seriously contemplating singing â but before i could act on it, the show had ended and volunteers were walking around with QR codes, asking people to vote on their favorite performer of the day. i held no hopes of winning, so i voted for myself and Ghea for fun; it felt surreal to have my name on the list, to know that i played a part in making today what it was :~)Â
the winner was Izhar, who performed a passionate rendition of âIâm Not Okayâ by MCR. at 6pm sharp, we were making our way out of the darkened room, exhausted but also sad that it was over.
as we sat in the food court with our iced kombucha and cake, people watching and recuperating from the whole experience, i was overcome with the sudden realization that iâd done it. iâd stopped questioning if i belonged.
i wouldnât go so far as to say i fit in â even then, the evening crowd was hopping, with groups of pretty, popular, well-dressed people crowding around tables and having a grand old time. i looked around at my sister and my best friend, and i felt content. happy. i didnât have anything to prove to anyone. i didnât need to justify why i was there. i am here, now, and i am taking up space.
my song. my stage. my life.
that is all that matters. and so, it was. âď¸