How do you solve a problem like Aaron?

Back in the day, Aaron Carter was a big deal at least to everyone else. I didn't care about him, but I knew he was a thing. It wasn't until he kissed Lizzie McGuire and sang a fun rendition of "I Want Candy."

By that time, I thought, "Hey, everyone likes this guy, right? Maybe he's really great and I'm missing out. And he's pretty cute. I mean, he not bad. Maybe I should become a fan."

So I did.

We've all heard to that we don't have to like what everyone else likes, but when you're young and still figuring yourself out and wondering what it is that you should and shouldn't like, it's easy to fall in the trap of forcing yourself to like something to the point where it starts to feel as if you really do like it and your positive feelings grew naturally from within you.

Which was why I screamed with excitement when my aunt and cousin bought me Aaron Carter's "Another Earthquake." I listened to it with the intent of enjoying it. Even though it wasn't that great (just speaking for myself obviously) and even though I didn't understand most of the lyrics in the title song. (I still don't.)

I did understand one lyric in the song "My First Ride" in which Aaron gets pulled over by a police officer: "If you let me go, I'll write your daughter an autograph."

*eye roll*

I don't know how I suffered listening to such drivel. I just don't know how I took that kind of self-glorifying pop seriously. It's the problem with being young and impressionable. You think things are cool when they're the total opposite. To this day, I'm not a fan of when artists sing about themselves in a way that makes the song more about themselves and less about what they can make you feel.

The enchantment? There is none really. Just the satisfaction that my music tastes changed and that my pretend obsession eventually changed.