Has this ever happened to you: you pop your earphones in, select your favourite playlist — the one that always helps you no matter what, and hit ‘play’, and then expect that supportive feeling to hit you immediately… only it doesn’t?!

Strange, weird, and after a little while, perhaps a quiet panic sets in; “what is going on with me?! Why do I not react to this playlist, I always have done. Why not now?”

I was baffled as to why my trusted friend called ‘Music’, wasn’t doing what it always did – make me happy, energised, thoughtful. This time, I just needed to feel safe and hugged. And it didn’t.

This experience set me on a path to uncover what this moment meant and what is causing it.

Maybe it’s not the song

The truth is that the song or playlist probably hasn’t changed at all. We have.

When we move through different life phases our emotional landscape changes, and hence our needs. The version that created the playlist ‘back then’ might have needed something different to now. Perhaps to feel energised before a big event, allowing yourself to ‘ugly cry’ after something broke your heart, or even to feel less lonely on a quiet night. And right now, in this current chapter, your needs might simply be different and ask for something different.

Your nervous system is playing referee

And then there is our nervous system. The one who is looking after us without us even knowing a lot of the time. When life is tough, stretching us because of stress, grief or burnout, that is when it steps in and literally plays referee as to what comes into our mind, body and soul. Hence why those songs that usually ‘hit that spot’ don’t do that anymore. It’s not because we don’t love them, but because our being is overloaded and is unable to take anything else on board. That’s when the nervous system steps in and shuts us off, to protect us.

You’re becoming someone new, again and again

And here is something else that happens quietly, something we might not notice as it usually happens slowly. With all that is happening in our life and the experiences that change and shape us, we start to become slightly different versions of ourselves. Again and again. And all those songs we loved in previous chapters? Well, they were loved by THAT version of us and so it makes sense that a lot of them might not resonate with us the same way as before. Think about it, we are hearing and experiencing them as someone new.

Songs are timestamps, not just sound

That brings me to why so often they are tied to us with memories and identity. A song isn’t just sound to us, it is a timestamp of our life. That timestamp includes the people we were with (or not), the places we were in and the version of ourselves we were moving into. It can almost feel like not having access to a piece of us anymore, when a song doesn’t hit us the same. Almost to the point where it feels like grief and is very upsetting.

Sometimes it’s simpler than that — you’re just exhausted

And let’s take this even further, because very often there is something simpler there, but harder to grasp and realise: emotional exhaustion. When we are running on empty, when we reach a point where we have nothing left to give to ourselves and others, that’s when we don’t always have the capacity to feel the way we usually do. And that includes music, amongst other things. The feelings aren’t gone, but we haven’t got the capacity to meet them even halfway most of the time.

The grief of missing something that used to come easy

Maybe the most upsetting part is the missing.

Missing that connection that has always been there and was available so easily, even without trying. Also missing that person that was able to press play and voila, feeling galore! And that kind of missing is damn real, and it is totally allowed.

Final thoughts, from me to you

Experiencing a life chapter like that doesn’t mean the love you feel for music is gone. Not at all. A lot of the times our relationship with music shifts because we are, too.

And one final reflection I want to leave you with:

“Maybe the song hasn’t changed. Maybe we have.”