I am excited to be attending a performance of the Grand Ole Opry tonight. I have been to the Opry maybe a dozen or so times, and it is always fun. I went for the first time in 2005, and my mother just about fell out of her chair when she heard that I was going. For the first 40+ years of my life, I absolutely hated country music. My mother used to listen to it when I was a kid, and the twang just wasn’t my thang. I was a rock and roll fan from early on, and I learned to mentally defend my listening choices from my parents’ criticism. That was noise, they said, not music. I didn’t care. I loved Boston and Jethro Tull and Led Zeppelin, but most of all, I loved Southern rock. Lynryd Skynyrd was a favorite.

As time went on, I started to listen to adult contemporary music, initially because I worked at that radio station. Southern rock vanished, except for the occasional oldie. Everything changed one morning in the fall of 2005. I was driving down the road and heard a song called “Bless the Broken Road.” I was so struck by it that I called the radio station to ask about it. A half-hour later, I owned the Rascal Flatts CD that it was on, and I was hooked. It turned out, Southern rock hadn’t disappeared at all. It had morphed into contemporary country. Who knew?

There was a time when I would have been embarrassed to admit that I listened to country music, but the joy that it has brought me is immeasurable. The sad songs, the hopeful songs, the silly songs–all of them helped me at a difficult time–to mend my broken heart, pick up the pieces, and move on. If you find joy in something, let yourself savor it, regardless of the opinions of others. You don’t have to defend your taste to people who don’t understand. My mother still chuckles when she hears I’m going to the Opry–again–but I don’t mind. I don’t need anyone’s approval, but I do need the joy this music brings to me. My change of heart has been good for my heart.