A Personal Reflection on Feeling Understood

Reflection

Towards the beginning of summer, I purchased a customized song from AstroSong as a birthday gift to myself. I love a good experience, and this was one I had not yet experienced.

For me, it was totally one of those impulse purchases that occasionally appears in your social media feed and says “try me, buy me”. The concept was simple enough: provide your birth information and receive a personalized song inspired by your astrological chart.

I wasn’t expecting anything profound (no offense to AstroSong).

I expected to receive something similar to the personalized souvenirs you find while traveling. You know, the novelty trinket made special because it includes your name.

There is a certain comfort in finding your name on a keychain, license plate, or coffee mug. It’s a small moment of recognition. You belong. You made the imaginary scrolling list of acceptable and acknowledged names. Now continue your day.

So when I placed my order, I assumed this would be a fun birthday keepsake. Something I would listen to once, enjoy, move on and rediscover it five years later in my Google Drive.

Then life happened.

Just a few days after my birthday, I found myself in the hospital with a kidney stone and two infections that required a procedure, a hospital stay, and a long recovery.

Birthday dinners and the anticipation of any gifts suddenly were much less important than surgery, medications, pain management and life basics.

While awaiting the next surgery to get the stone and stent out, my AstroSong arrived in my inbox. Happy post birthday to me.

Appreciating that something new and positive had happened, I eagerly put on my headphones and pressed play.

What happened next was not what I expected.

Recognition

Sunlight passing through a crystal prism on a wooden table, revealing a soft beam of light against a warm neutral wall.

What surprised me most wasn’t the music itself. It was the feeling of recognition I experienced.

I felt like I had been handed a mirror, asked to look into it, and listen. Really listen.

Certain lyrics immediately caught my attention. They reflected themes, experiences, and questions I had been carrying for much of my life.

Again and again, I found myself thinking: “How did they know that?” “Whoa, that’s accurate.”

One of the options when creating an AstroSong is whether or not to include your name in the lyrics.

For me, that choice was easy. If I was ordering a personalized song, I wanted it to be personal.

What I didn’t expect was how emotional it would feel to hear my name sung.

I’ve spent most of my life correcting the pronunciation of my name, Alyssa. The spelling often leads people to pronounce it differently than my family intended, and over the years I’ve become accustomed to hearing it said incorrectly.

Alyssa, you were written in light.”

Hearing my name woven naturally into the lyrics felt surprisingly powerful. Obviously I had been expecting my name, but hearing it sung and pronounced correctly got me in the feels.

I felt recognized.

Another lyric that stayed with me was:

You don’t need to choose between tender and true.”

The line resonated with me because it challenged the idea that sensitivity and strength exist in opposition to one another.

For much of my life, I’ve felt caught between contradictions and that good old ambivalence.

  • Thoughtful, but direct.
  • Sensitive, but resilient.
  • Introverted and extroverted.
  • Emotional and practical.

Like many people, I’ve spent years trying to determine which version of myself was the “real” one.

The ‘tender and true’ lyric suggested I don’t have to choose and am fine just the way I am.

Perhaps some of our greatest strengths come from holding seemingly opposite qualities at the same time.

The lyric that lingered with me longest, however, was: “You were all you were looking for.” (Cue the rain down my face.)

As simple as the words are, they landed deeply.

Throughout different seasons of my life, I’ve often searched for answers, validation, reassurance, and certainty outside of myself.

Sometimes through work.

Sometimes through relationships.

Sometimes through the hope that another person might finally provide clarity or tell me who I was supposed to be.

Hearing that lyric reminded me that the strength, resilience, wisdom, and compassion I was searching for in myself had been there all along. It had been whisper-quiet. It felt like acknowledgment and recognition.

The difference this time was hearing those truths sung back to me.

Realization

Off-white headphones resting on a wooden stand in a quiet sunlit room, representing personal reflection, familiar rituals, and a realization worth returning to.

The more I reflected on the whole experience, the more I realized AstroSong had challenged one of my assumptions about reflection itself.

As a writer, I’ve traditionally thought of reflection as something that happens by putting words on a page and visually processing them. What I hadn’t fully considered was that personal reflection can also happen through auditory processing with music.

I consume information constantly. My AstroSong didn’t arrive as more information for me to analyze. It arrived as an experience.

For this reflection, instead of reading the words, I heard them. Instead of analyzing them, I felt them. And somehow, that cut through the haze of the medications that were keeping me afloat through my intense physical kidney stone pain.

What surprised me most was that I found myself returning to the song (more times than I can count). Not because I was trying to determine whether the astrology was accurate or revisit the lyrics intellectually. Because it had become something personal. A song, a reminder, a reflection, just for me.

This song has become part of my Life Cycle Way Reflection Tools collection. A song I can return to when I’m feeling reflective, nostalgic, lost, lonely, proud. When I need a reminder of things I already know but don’t always remember.

The experience reminded me that reflection and regulation aren’t always separate activities.

Sometimes feeling recognized is regulating.

Sometimes hearing familiar truths in a different way is enough to help us reconnect with ourselves.

Reconnection

Natural wood framed linen artwork mounted on a warm beige wall, with the words "Always There" subtly revealed through light and texture as afternoon sunlight casts soft window shadows across the surface.

The most meaningful part I took away from my AstroSong experience was the reminder I received.

The reminder of my qualities, strengths, experiences, and truths that I already knew but hadn’t fully acknowledged and appreciated. The reminder of two of my (not) favorite concepts: self-acceptance and self-compassion. Along with the reminder that both are REALLY hard, and that’s okay.

This song arrived during a season of significant change in my life. A season of healing, rebuilding, and reconnecting. Reconnecting with myself.

Reconnecting with my work. My systems. My priorities. My energy. My future. My family and the people (and poodle) in my life who matter most.

Much of the work I’ve been doing recently has centered around rebuilding my life in a way that feels more aligned, intentional, and sustainable. In that context, the auditory experience felt less like self-discovery and more like self-reconnection.

The song didn’t tell me who I was. I know who I am. Rather, the gift of the song was that it reflected back pieces of myself I hadn’t been paying attention to in a long time. I listened and accepted the reminder.

I thought I was buying a personalized song.

What I received was a mirror.


Curious About AstroSong?

Round mirror reflecting a lit birthday candle in a sage ceramic dish on a light wood surface, symbolizing reflection, personal growth, and the passage of time.

If you’re curious about AstroSong itself, I’ve shared more about how it works, what was included in my experience, and why I’ve added it to my Reflection Tools collection.

You can also find my AstroSong discount code there if you’d like to explore creating a song of your own or gifting someone special in your life.


Resources

Reflecting in the Life Cycle Way

What is the Life Cycle Way?

Abstract mixed-media portrait with flowing imperfect circles symbolizing supportive structure, reflection, and the repeating rhythm of the Life Cycle Way™ framework.

The Life Cycle Way Framework

An unfinished charcoal ink circle entering from the left on a warm off-white textured background, with uneven line weight and soft movement.

Life Cycle Way Tools I Trust

Neutral-toned notebook, pen, laptop, and papers arranged on a soft linen surface in warm natural light, representing simple everyday Life Cycle Way tools for planning, organizing, and reflection