Sarah Buchholtz
Features Editor
Lady Gaga has always been more than an artist to me. She has been a constant source of strength, comfort and inspiration. I’ve been a Little Monster for as long as I can remember, and her music has sustained me through some of the hardest moments of my life. When I felt like I didn’t belong, her voice reminded me that I did. Songs like “Hair,” “Marry the Night” and “Born This Way” gave me hope and reminded me that being myself was not just okay, but something to embrace. Her music gave me room to grieve and feel heavy emotions. “Dope” and “Til It Happens to You” made me feel seen and understood when it felt like nothing else could. Gaga has this rare ability to meet people in their darkest moments and lift them up, and that is what she did for me. She didn’t just write songs, she gave me a reason to keep going.
As a kid, I was often bullied for being myself. I never understood why people made fun of me, but I refused to change who I was to fit in. Gaga had a lot to do with that. She knew what it was like to be ridiculed for being unique, and she has spoken openly about being bullied. That honesty made me feel connected to her, because I saw my own struggles reflected in hers, and I learned that you can be doubted, laughed at and ridiculed and still survive.
Seeing her live for the first time at the Mayhem Ball was a dream I had held for years. It was not just a concert, but a moment that healed something in me. Walking into the arena felt like finally arriving in a place where I truly belonged. When Gaga walked past me and I reached out to touch her hand, and when she later blew me a kiss from the stage, it felt like she was acknowledging me directly. The Mayhem Ball was unforgettable and transformative, a night that my inner child had been waiting for.
What makes Gaga so extraordinary is her range. She can break your heart with a ballad like “Speechless” or “Blade of Grass,” and then turn around and make you dance with tracks like “LoveGame,” “Garden of Eden” or the iconic “Bad Romance.” She shines in jazz, both on her own or in her collaborations with Tony Bennett. She thrives in collaboration, working with artists across styles, including one of my other all-time favorite artist, Beyoncé. Their song “Telephone” remains one of the most iconic collaborations in pop, proof of how effortlessly Gaga connects with other voices and genres.
But it’s not just Gaga’s versatility that sets her apart, it’s her vulnerability. Whether through music, dancing or acting, she never hides the fact that she’s human. She openly talks about the struggles she has faced, and is not afraid to show raw emotion throughout any of her artistic endeavors. Her roles in American Horror Story, House of Gucci and A Star Is Born show her depth not just as a musician, but as a storyteller across genres, and proves that her vulnerability extends beyond music.
Gaga has proven over and over that she is more than “just a pop star.” She is an artist, an activist and a lifeline. She has been there for me since I was a kid, giving me the strength to believe in myself when I thought I had none left. And while she doesn’t know me personally, her music makes me feel like she does.
Gaga isn’t just a celebrity, she is someone who has built a career on making people feel seen, no matter their background, identity or pain. She created the Born This Way Foundation to support the wellness and mental health of young people, while also trying to promote a kinder and braver world. She taught me that no matter what anyone says or how much I am judged, my best choice will be to always stay true to who I am. She didn’t just give me music, she gave me myself.