Imagine you just turned 13. The last school bell just rang. You run to your mother’s work to tell her you will finally do it for the first time. She’s excited for you because you’re finally big enough to buy your CD (did you think I was talking about something else?). She used to buy me one at the end of every school year, ever since I was 9, as a reward for doing well in school. But this time, I get to go by myself. Honestly, this was very nerve-wracking, but simultaneously, it was really exciting. 

It’s just a phase (I promise)

I got a gift card of 35 Aruban florins for my 13th birthday, enough to buy the CD I’ve been begging Mom for over a month. Back then, music wasn’t as accessible as it is today. Most Aruban teens in the mid-’00s watched channel 24 after school. They showed music videos of rock, punk, pop, and hip-hop genres. It was our own Caribbean MTS; it was everything! We were all connected after school without having to see each other. We could even send SMSs. I had my old CDs but was getting over my “Shakira phase” (or so I thought). 

I wish I could go back in time to slap my 13-year-old pubescent-hormonal self, who was pathetically trying to belong. I’m kidding; I wouldn’t do that, but I would shake my teenage self hard enough and tell her to get a grip. But no, I was head over heels and losing my grip (you’re awesome if you got that). Like any other teenage girl, I was falling hard for a boy (yes, Dad, I know you told me not to). Little did I know that the first CD I bought alone would help me a few months later to get through my first (but not worse) heartbreak.

Anxious mom, anxious daughter

I announced my gracious presence at my mom’s work. Just so she knows, a car didn’t me on the way after school, so she knows I’m still alive. Mothers always panic about bad stuff happening to their children, and in my mother’s head, she must have thought about a hundred ways of how she tragically lost me in a freak accident. Honestly, that sounds exhausting and stressful, but that’s my mom, and I know some moms are like that, too. Maybe one day I’ll be like that when I have kids. For now… I’ll just freak out when one of my piggies is hiding from me.

Sweaty palms and faster heartbeats

I sheepishly started walking towards the CD shop. In 2004, the main street was still open to cars. It would be hectic depending on the day of the week or occasion. I hated that because it gave people more time to check you out (anxious teen, I know). On the one hand, I didn’t want to be seen by anybody because I was so insecure (get back at me when you meet a secure, confident, happy-with-themself teen). I can only imagine that I wasn’t the only teen dreading walking alone on the main street of Oranjestad, not back then when all the eyes were watching.

A thing called a CD shop

On that particular day, the route felt longer, but at least the weather was nice. It had been raining, but it stopped. The road was still wet and already warm, but the sun was hiding between the clouds. I remember ‘One Stop CD Shop,’ the CD place, being in front of where ‘Fusion Deli’ is now. I might be wrong, though, so please correct me if you know where the exact location was.

Once inside the CD shop, I asked the man behind the counter if they had the Avril Lavigne CD, and they did. The emotions that ran through my veins that day are just too inexplicable. Once my own eyes saw the mother-fucking princess on the CD cover, I told the sales representative that I wanted it.

But… where is Complicated?

I returned to my mom’s work and waited until her lunch break. In the car, I quickly noticed that ‘Complicated’ wasn’t a part of the CD, nor was a Skater Boy. I thought it was strange, but I was sure I would love the strange, never seen before, song titles at the back of the CD.

The sales clerk did mention that it was new, and with new, he meant 5 months because the album came out in May of 2004, but I didn’t know that back then. 

The beginning of a fixation

In the early evening of that same day, I took the plastic cover of the CD, grabbed my parent’s Sony radio and CD player, and played the CD in the kitchen at my mother’s request. She wanted to hear the CD that I so badly wanted. I knew none of the songs, and honestly, I was disappointed at first. The only thing I wanted was to hear ‘Complicated’ on repeat whenever I wanted.

I played the CD again that night, but this time on my pink Sony Walkman. And I replayed the album every day until the end of the school year. I fell in love with the album and simultaneously fell in love with a boy who made my heart stop in the hallways of Maria College. This album helped me glue, tape, and staple my heart together before the last school bell rang on the last day of school (or did Daddy Yankee’s Gasolina do that? See, I told you I was trying to belong).

Teenage angst, adult angst

I still listen to the album now and then; it still soothes, brings back memories, and makes me happy and warm on the inside. I like to listen to it in the order of the album; the heart of the teen in me anticipates that order, and she gets irritated (like usual) when that doesn’t happen. 

Here’s my top 5

1. Nobody’s home
2. Happy Ending
3. Don’t tell me
4. Who knows?
5. Fall to pieces

Bonus: Slipped away