What Episode of Hannah Montana Does See You Again Air in

Vice Versa was a safe haven in my higher years. Nestled amidst the rolling hills of West Virginia, and situated snuggly in downtown Morgantown, interwoven with the WVU campus, the gay guild offered safety, glitter, and endless midnight thrills. My friends and I would head out on the town most every Friday night, and our escapades seemed to stretch on incessantly if nosotros let them.

Nothing takes me back to this time quite like "See You lot Over again" by Miley Cyrus (or her alter-ego, Hannah Montana, depending on how you expect at it). 13 years after its release, the vocal sweeps me away on such sweet memories, transporting me magically to one of the most transformative years of my life. Information technology's a special kind of emotional awareness listening to it now, imagining a 21-year-sometime me bumping and grinding on the dance floor in a sea of sweaty bodies ─ with the song'southward sticky bubble gum tune coursing through my veins. There is nothing more exhilarant than the chorus dropping and literally anybody in sight belting along; it's a state of euphoria that is well-nigh indescribable.

"The last time I freaked out/I just kept lookin' downwards/I st-st-stuttered when you asked me what I'g thinkin' 'bout," Miley sings, a playful glimmer in her center. "Felt like I couldn't breathe/You asked what's incorrect with me/My best friend Lesley said, 'Oh, she's just being Miley'/The next time nosotros hang out, I will redeem myself/My heart, information technology tin can't remainder 'til then/Oh-woah-woah, I, I can't wait to see you once more."

Miley could make you feel everything at all in one case. At only 15 years old, she could tear upward the gild with a ferocious bite, injecting you with the fearlessness to own the moment yourself. "Run across You Again" captures both the naivety of first beloved and dynamic musical chops, an elixir of rumbling electric guitars, thumping bass, and scratchy synths. It's the perfect pop song of the 21st century ─ and I would exist remiss if I didn't acknowledge it every bit the vocal that defined my early 20s.

I didn't know information technology then, simply Miley would become the soundtrack for my entire life. Through every soaring high to the lowest of lows, her music has uplifted, empowered, and taught me information technology's okay to not be okay. You just take to own any you're feeling, naysayers be damned.

Miley was correct in the heart of her turn on Disney Channel's Hannah Montana, a high-glam coming-of-age sitcom about a young girl navigating the spotlight and grasping onto a sense of normalcy. I was merely marginally familiar with the evidence, but information technology was the music I connected with most. Songs like "The Best of Both Worlds," "Nobody'due south Perfect," "Life'due south What You Make It," and "One in a Million" ─ go-to favorites across the show'south first two soundtracks ─ laid the foundation for her particular brand of gooey pop-rock, borrowing influence from artists like Avril Lavigne and Kelly Clarkson.

While I can certainly appreciate Run into Miley Cyrus, (her debut album equally an artist outside the Disney persona, though jointly released with Hannah Montana 2) and essential cuts like "G.North.O. (Girls Dark Out)" and the wavy, mood-elevator "Showtime All Over," it wasn't until her 2008 sophomore effort, Breakout, that solidified my adoration for her, as well as her destiny as one of pop'south true greats.

That summertime was one for the books. I was 22 and feeling like I needed to take a risk in my life. Two days after earning a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Acting, I sold off almost of my holding, hopped on a i-way flying, and started a new life as a cast fellow member at Disney World. I was assigned to Tomorrowland Speedway, and despite my disfavor to playing pretend as a race track mechanic/attendant, it proved vital to my personal growth.

It's not the work I remember near; it's the people. Oh, the people. It'due south the group of friends I met at a random welcome pool party. Anxiety pounding in my chest, towel gracefully draped across my shoulder, I walked over to a group of young women who were all literally wearing the same style of shorts, just in different colors. If I was looking for a sign, I got one. We immediately bonded over our option in casual attire and quickly got on with introductions ─ it was the kind of immediate friendship I will forever cherish.

Ali, Jessie, Becca, and I did everything together that summer. We gallivanted from Animal Kingdom to Epcot to Hollywood Studios to Magic Kingdom and back once again. I even asked for a housing transfer to Chatham Square just so we could be closer in our everyday lives. Information technology was crawly.

Meanwhile, Breakout was the soundtrack to it all. I mind to it at present, and every inconsequential detail floods my brain like too much champagne on New year'south Eve. From "vii Things" teaching me to put neat value in self-worth to "Girls Merely Wanna Have Fun" inviting me to live unapologetically complimentary to "Fly on the Wall" and its grungy rock undercurrent, that record is one of those rare pop albums I listen to without skipping over anything. If I'yard feeling particularly sad, I'll put it on and get lost in the past. "Wake Up America" still makes me want to march for environmental conservation, and "Bottom of the Ocean" rips my middle out. She really did that.

Hannah Montana: The Moving-picture show and The Time of Our Lives EP both arrived a twelvemonth subsequently. In between, I had moved into my then-boyfriend'south house in Tampa, a few days subsequently finishing my Disney chore, and it seemed similar the perfect determination at the time. Look, I was 23 – and I can't say that I regret that moment but… within three weeks, I left and took a flight back to Morgantown. It was just some other pit terminate in my very chaotic 20s.

I began working what felt similar iv jobs at the shiny new Reddish Lobster, getting upward way before dawn so I could catch the bus, and I fabricated damn certain to pack my MP3 thespian with equally much Miley as I could. Between "The Climb" and EP songs similar "When I Wait at Y'all," "Obsessed," and the bop-to-end-all-bops, "Political party in the The states," I plant myself standing to get lost in her little world. Information technology was like she couldn't stop delivering God-tier pop songs. I naturally had no clue where life was going to become next, so I allow Miley be my guide.

As many pop stars practise, specially women, Miley shifted gears quite drastically to make a mature artistic argument. 2010's Can't Be Tamed struck similar a bolt of lightning. She was 18 now, and coming into her own every bit a young woman, and the music directly mirrored her self actualization. "Liberty Walk" and "Can't Be Tamed" are the obvious streaks of rebellion, but songs similar "Two More Lonely People," "Scars," and "Robot" further underscored her growth as a bona fide stone star. And if you were looking to totally bawl your eyes out, you had "Forgiveness and Dearest" and the iconic "Stay" to do the play a joke on.

After spending several months moving all over the East Declension, from Morgantown to Orlando to Washington, DC, I finally settled in Nashville. I was 24, and the globe opened up in a style I never expected. I took online classes for a Master's degree, got a function-fourth dimension job at Old Navy, and pigeon caput-offset into the club scene. As Miley was blossoming into her full potential, so was I. I could really see myself for the first time in a long time, and Can't Be Tamed was as much my own retaliation against the globe as Miley's artistic and personal peak.

Over the adjacent few years, I bounced around some more than. I went back to W Virginia. Then New York. Then back to Nashville. At present, it was 2013, and Bangerz crashed into my life like a wrecking ball. A new associate gave me a real shot at her publication; I traipsed around Music Urban center, getting my feet wet in the industry in a very real fashion: covering live shows and events, and interviewing the hottest new country acts. I took job at Kroger to brand ends meet and even establish myself exploring my sexuality in a mode I never had before. Merely with all the risk-taking came very hard crashes the next two years.

Despite hitting rock lesser, Miley'southward music continued to teach. "We Can't Stop" encouraged me to shed past conceptions most myself, disregarding the haters, and rediscover liberation in my own body. "It'southward our political party, nosotros can do what we desire to/It's our business firm, we tin love who we want to," she sings over a gummy beat out. She evokes such energy with songs like "iv×4," "Love Money Party," and "FU," which still floors me with her vocal volatility.

I remember working nights sometimes, changing out toll tags, and putting Bangerz on shuffle. "Bulldoze," "Maybe Y'all're Right," "#GETITRIGHT," "Someone Else" ─ what range of human emotion. Miley was finding new colors in her vocalization, as well, learning how to fully lean on her throaty growl when a song warranted information technology, and she could actually pulverize you over the caput with a melody. During those long stretches of loneliness, every bit I worked my way through sterile nutrient aisles, sometimes wondering what I was fifty-fifty doing with my life, her voice kept me going.

When the public and media predictably turned their backs on her, Miley stood her basis. She twerked. She lapped her tongue in the air. And she didn't care. She was living life on her own terms – who were they to take that away from her? The personal freedom she'd plant finally spilled over into her work with Miley Cyrus & Her Dead Petz. An insane 23-song collab with psych rockers The Flaming Lips, initially self-released on SoundCloud, funneled her weirdness into a smorgasbord of delectable cuts ─ the virtually peculiar among them "Milky Milky Milk," "Fucking Fucked Upwardly," "Evil is Only a Shadow," and "Miley Tibetan Bowlzzz." She kept squeezing those tear ducts, of class, zilch-lining from "Karen Don't Exist Sad" to "Fweaky" (perhaps the crown precious stone) to "Twinkle Song."

I was smack dab in the middle of my own journey, too. I left Nashville for Westward Virginia so Pittsburgh. I was inbound my late 20s and still felt like I had no idea what I was doing. I had lost my job at a mid-level publication, and a dear friend suggested I endeavour a alter of scenery to ground myself once more. In the summer of 2015, I moved into a three-story townhouse with a friend of a friend and her friends, and it didn't accept long for chaos to set up in. For the sake of respect, I'll call my roommate Emerge. Well, Sally had an abrasive, dominating personality, so much and then that it became evident she wanted to play firm mother, rather than exist a existent friend. While Miley was reclaiming her musical identity, I learned I as well needed to declare my cocky-worth and take up a niggling room ─ and I soon retreated into my work and self evaluation.

In fourth dimension, I eventually did figure things out. I moved back to New York (yes, again) a few months subsequently and worked remotely for a Manhattan-based music site. Fate had kissed me, and I soaked information technology in. My career was actually moving forward; I felt adept almost myself, and I was dating again. Life was good.

But a bend brawl hurled itself my way, as it always does. I found myself without piece of work and needing to absolutely shake upward old habits and astringent toxic patterns. On the day Miley released Younger Now, a cosmopolitan-spun pop-country disc, on September 29, 2017, I moved dorsum home to Due west Virginia for the final fourth dimension. It'southward funny. I spent nearly a decade running from my by and a dysfunctional family, without realizing I needed to confront it all head-on before I could truly fly free.

Younger Now saw Miley swerve in the contrary direction. She was still able to delve into her songwriting prowess, waxing introspective on songs like the title track, "Malibu," "Miss You And then Much," and "I Would Die for Y'all," but, more than importantly, she was coming into her ain. Musically, she wasn't mining new territory, but it was the render to her country roots that gave her more agency over her life and work. Her vocalization appeared to find greater, richer textures, as well. Her ability to glide so effortlessly across such melodies every bit "Rainbowland" (with Godmother Dolly Parton), "She's Not Him," and "Inspired" was just… invigorating.

With those 11 songs, I learned to exist nowadays in the moment. I learned that sometimes you lot need to hide away and reverberate and allow life to wash over you. In that location'southward no need to thrash around and spring away to whatever city every time things get a lilliputian as well real. Those early days back home were hard, and I tin't pretend they weren't. But I gave myself time. Time to really excavate past traumas, accost toxic people in my life, and shed who I was, once and for all. I learned it was but a small detour in the grand scheme of things.

When you reassess an EP like 2019's SHE IS COMING, which was originally supposed to kick off a trio of EPs, you get the sense Miley needed a detour, as well. "Mother's Girl," "Unholy," and "The Most" certainly shined brightest, and yous could argue they were articulate precursors to Plastic Hearts, her brand new record and magnum opus. Glittering 1980s pop-rock suits her vocalisation, a voice as powerful as it is gilded with hurting and heartache; she'south learned how to tame her growl, how to sculpt melodies that exercise much more than than simply be, and how to punch lyrics much harder.

Whether we're talking brash, pollex biting opener "WTF Do I Know" or the perfect Steve Nicks tribute "Midnight Heaven" or the strangely celestial "Never Be Me," she has reached a level none of united states of america could ever have predicted. So, she tosses in homages to her by ─ the absolutely gut-punching "Angels Similar You" harkens dorsum to The Time of Our Lives and Breakout in its soaring popular sensibility. "High," "Detest Me," and "Golden K String" are amid her finest entries to-engagement. She weaves from country heritage to angsty punk lyricism to heartrending simplicity, and at each stride, she not merely accepts her by but shines a light on the constant pressures of being in the spotlight.

Now in my 30s, life makes the most sense it e'er has. Certain, your 20s are thrilling and unexpected, only you lot don't really, truly know yourself until your 30s. I came out equally not-binary a couple years agone; I'thousand striking new highs in my career; and I'm finding this animalistic hunger to constantly declare that I am, in fact, worth it. So far, Plastic Hearts is didactics me to reconnect with my sexuality, remember the wonder and beauty that all the same does live in the world, and never settle for anything less than what I deserve. Life is far too short.

Equally I sit down here listening to Plastic Hearts for the 100th time in the last few weeks, I decided to head on over to Metacritic to run across what folks were proverb. Colour me surprised: it has a 75 rating, her highest to date. The media has never really given her credit for shaking up the industry, but it's cool to see her getting the credit she deserves. She'southward been slaying the game since the beginning, and it's lovely to see the world finally take notice.

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Source: https://www.audiofemme.com/only-noise-how-miley-cyrus-became-the-soundtrack-of-my-life/

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