Life Between the Beats

January: A Fresh Start

January always carries that crisp sense of possibility. On New Year’s Day, I found myself waking up to the quiet strums of Maggie Rogers’s “Light On, " feeling like it perfectly embodied the hope I was grasping for. I made a playlist called “Fresh Beginnings,” determined to keep my mood buoyant as I set brand-new goals.

Every morning, I’d wake, the sky still dark, letting Maggie’s vocals remind me to look for the light in the day ahead. There was something about her optimistic, bright tone that mirrored my eagerness for change. All throughout those chilly January mornings, “Light On” was the daily pep talk in my headphones, urging me to trust in the year to come.

February: Heartaches and Healing

By mid-February, I was nursing an unexpected heartbreak. Life has a way of flipping on you just when you think it’s steady, and I suddenly found myself leaning on music for solace. Late at night, I’d lie in bed with “Somebody Else” by The 1975 playing softly in the background. It became my nightly lament, a moody sonic blanket under which I let myself grieve.

But heartbreak wasn’t the end. I also discovered a fierce anthem in Lizzo’s “Good as Hell,” which yanked me out of self-pity at precisely the moment I needed it. While “Somebody Else” helped me process my sadness, “Good as Hell” jolted me awake in the mornings, reminding me that heartbreak doesn’t define me—it’s only a single chapter of the story.

Springtime Blossoms and Renewed Confidence

As the days grew warmer, my mood thawed too. Spring brought new energy, and I craved an uplifting soundtrack to match the emerging flowers and sunshine. I became obsessed with Harry Styles’s “Golden.” The shimmering melody felt tailor-made for driving with the windows down, letting the cool air whip through my hair.

“Golden” wasn’t just a catchy tune; it became my personal signifier of brighter days. One afternoon, my best friend and I drove out to the coast, the ocean in full view, “Golden” blasting on repeat. In that moment, my heartbreak and uncertainties felt far away, replaced by laughter, salt air, and a radiant sense of possibility.

Summer: Adventure and Discovery

By summer, I was ready to dive headfirst into new experiences. I signed up for dance classes on a whim. Twice a week, I’d push through the studio doors, excited and nervous. More often than not, the day’s soundtrack included Dua Lipa’s “Levitating.” Its playful groove made me want to spin around and let go of all inhibitions.

When I wasn’t in class, I took spontaneous weekend trips. During one drive through rolling hills with no defined destination, I stumbled upon “Hush” by The Marías. The smooth vocals and dreamy production fit the atmosphere of cruising along empty highways at sunset, lost in thought and wide open to whatever might come next.

Autumn: Reflection and Growth

As leaves turned golden, I found myself settling into a more introspective mindset. Autumn is often a season of letting go and preparing for something new—mirroring my own sense of personal transformation. I put on Brandi Carlile’s “The Story,” letting its raw honesty encourage me to examine who I was becoming. I wrote nightly in a journal, describing small epiphanies sparked by the lines of that song—how every scar and misstep shaped me more meaningfully than I’d realized.

In October, I faced a significant life decision. I was terrified, certain I’d fail if I took on something new. That fear gradually lessened each time I listened to “The Story.” Brandi’s words about owning your past and finding the courage to keep going reverberated, carrying me over my self-doubts like a supportive hand at my back.

December: Finding the Light Within

December rolled in quietly, and so did an unexpected peacefulness. Looking back, I realized how each season’s soundtrack represented a piece of my emotional puzzle. My final anthem of the year? “River” by Leon Bridges. It felt like a cleansing, a calm reflection on everything I’d weathered—heartbreak, renewal, adventure, and growth. Late in the month, as I huddled by the window, watching soft snow blanket the streets, “River” lulled me with its gentle soulfulness.

And here comes Spotify Wrapped, showing me my top songs, confirming what I already knew in my heart: each track was a chapter of my life, each lyric a line in my personal diary. There’s the possibility for new beginnings in “Light On,” the heartbreak and resilience in “Somebody Else” and “Good as Hell,” the exuberant sunshine in “Golden,” the adventurous spirit of “Levitating,” the introspection of “The Story,” and the comforting closure in “River.” They’re more than just a collection of streamed tracks; they’re the stepping stones that carried me through one of the most transformative years of my life.