I Might Be in My 40s, but Alanis Morissette Still Hits Me Right in the Feels

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I vividly recall my trip to Target when I bought Alanis Morissette’s iconic album, Jagged Little Pill. With some babysitting cash in hand and “You Oughta Know” dominating the airwaves, I decided to pick up the CD. Little did I realize that I was acquiring a soundtrack that would shape my teenage years.

From the moment I got home, that CD was on repeat. Since my car only had a tape player, I transferred it to a cassette so I could sing along in my old ‘87 Pontiac Bonneville. For the first time, I felt like the music was speaking directly to me. These weren’t just songs; they were anthems. Alanis had a way of articulating a woman’s deepest emotions in a way I had never experienced. Words like “duplicity” were new to me, and after looking it up, I understood her heartbreak — that guy was just a jerk.

If you’re at all familiar with Jagged Little Pill, you know that each of its 13 tracks packs a punch. How could you not know every line of “Ironic” if you lived through the ’90s? That video with her four distinct personalities belting out, “It’s like rain on your wedding day!” left an indelible mark on our hearts. I challenge you to open Apple Music or Spotify and try to listen without singing along. I can’t do it.

In 2019, Alanis announced a tour to commemorate 25 years of Jagged Little Pill, and I was ecstatic. As soon as I learned she was coming to my city, I knew I had to get tickets. Of course, the concert was postponed from 2020, but thankfully, she didn’t cancel. This past Saturday, I finally got to live my teenage dream of seeing her perform live.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but my heart raced with excitement. The moment she stepped on stage, I was brought to tears. Was it 42-year-old me crying, or was it the 16-year-old version of myself? Maybe it was a mix of both. Even though I’m now a mom in my 40s, that 16-year-old girl still lives on in me, feeling every word of that album.

As she began the show, I observed her face. It’s aged, just like mine, but her voice remains unchanged, as does her passion. She generously performed the entire album for thousands of fans, many of whom were in their 30s and 40s, singing along to the songs that defined our youth.

We were transported back to a simpler time when our biggest concern was the minutes we spent on AOL and sending IMs with quirky usernames. We were creating collages in notebooks and eagerly anticipating Thursday night TV. Alanis took us back to that era; with just a few harmonica notes, we were back in our Dr. Martens and dElia*s shirts. That night was pure magic.

She gets us now just as she did back then. Images flashed on a screen, showing her in her prime alongside clips of her life as a mother. We witnessed her journey, one that mirrors our own. Although we’ve all changed, the music that defined our generation still resonates deeply. We need that reminder now more than ever.

So how are we doing these days? Collectively, I believe we’re managing well. We’ve evolved, and our lives are different, yet the core message remains unchanged: embrace who you are, love fiercely, and don’t strive for perfection. Laugh at life’s ironies, learn from them, and remember that your self-worth is crucial.

Alanis gifted us an evening filled with nostalgia, leaving me with a warm sense of joy. The show concluded with “Thank U,” which might just be my favorite. She provided a brief escape from the complexities and uncertainties of life, allowing me — if only for a couple of hours — to tap into that girl who had everything ahead of her. So, thank you, Alanis, for that unforgettable night and for being the soundtrack of my high school years. Your words still inspire women like me from the ’90s to learn and grow.

You grieve, you learn
You choke, you learn
You laugh, you learn
You choose, you learn
You pray, you learn
You ask, you learn
You live, you learn



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