For many months now, I've lacked the courage to write this piece. The piece where I explain why I have decided to give up one of the most meaningful passions of my life so far. Even now, I don't really understand why I have decided to give up radio. When it is mentioned in conversation, I manage to dismiss the topic so easily, so casually. I think this is because that nobody, not even myself takes the threat seriously. After all, how can you rationally let go of something that fills you with such love and fulfillment? That empowers you, that gives you so much joy and confidence? How can you ever let go of the possibility that you could be the person you always wanted to be?
When I think of the kind of radio that fills you with so much joy and confidence, I think of my long-defunct university radio station, SUB FM. I think about the mixing desk that was stripped from a music studio. The desk appeared to be held together by gaffa tape. The phone didn’t work and the microphone that gave your voice such a beautiful, warm tone. Most of all, I think about my musical freedom. The fact that I could wash away my personal insecurities and pretend to be someone who was so beautifully unapologetic, passionate and insightful.
On air, I acted as if I was directly talking to the very person who would never think to belittle my taste as a teenager. I relish each moment that I would talk to him, as we rarely got a chance to speak. I really loved him. He always feigned fascination with whatever I had to say.
After five and a half years of radio, I am a broken person. I had foolishly believed that I had something worthwhile to offer to my listeners. My Programming Manager had me believe that I hadn't earned my right to talk about music authoritatively. He made me believe that I knew nothing, that I am nothing. He filled me with such new-found feelings of self-loathing that I just can’t do this anymore. I have nothing more to say.