Free Facing the Music And Living To Talk About It by Nick Carter

weren’t very good. I guess that’s why they needed a big halftime show to prevent the home crowd from just going home. We did our best during every game to keep them in their seats.
    Sandy surrounded me with my own special mini-group, calling us Nick and the Angels. Our routine included performing Elvis’s “Jail House Rock” and Jerry Lee Lewis’s “Great Balls of Fire.” My guess is that 99 percent of the guys in the stands who weren’t related to me or in my grade school weren’t even aware that I was on the field with the Angels and the Swashbucklers most of the time. That didn’t bother me though.
    I FELT LIKE I WAS PART OF SOMETHING SPECIAL.
    Walking onto that Buc’s field for the first time with them was an incredible rush. There were thousands of people cheering every move. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time. Is scarilarating a word?
    That’s when I became truly addicted to the joy of entertaining. It was so exciting. We felt like we were part of the Buc’s team and the whole organization. The girls treated me like their favorite little brother. Strangers cheered us. Kids wanted our autographs. I felt like I was part of something special. My parents and brother and sisters were all excited for me too, which made things a little better at home.
    Sandy DiMarco sent me to perform with the Angels and Swashbucklers at smaller venues around town, too. Those were mostly appearances to promote the team or community events. Some of us also participated in Showstoppers regional talent competitions against other performers, where we won a lot of contests. I still have those black and blue ribbons with first and second place written on them.
    As the only guy on the squad, I tended to stand out. The fans gave me a lot of attention, which boosted my self-confidence and helped me become even more comfortable in front of crowds. Not that stage fright was ever a problem for me. When I heard the applause and cheers from thousands of people, nothing else mattered in that moment.
    I loved being on that field, no doubt about it. Still, there was something deeper that drove me to work harder on my singing and performing than I’d ever worked in my life. To put it as simply as I can: It felt right. It made me happy. I could spend hours and hours singing and playing the guitar. Even practicing dance routines didn’t really seem like work to me.
    All the driving and running around and waiting for cattle-call auditions could be a drag, but once it was time to perform I forgot all about the hard work that went into preparing for that moment. I just dove in and within the first few notes of a song, I was in my own world. I didn’t win every role or every audition, but I felt like I was learning something and getting better. Even the directors, producers or casting agents who chose someone else often had encouraging words for me. They told me I was a quick learner with natural talent, and that I stood out from the crowd. So I quickly got the sense that my mother’s enthusiasm wasn’t just a mom thing .
    In some ways I’d found an even larger and more reliable family—my musical family. I felt comfortable and welcome. I felt as if I belonged, as if I spoke the same language as other performers and musicians. Those feelings were strong—so strong that they made the bad things in my life more bearable.
    THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING
    It’s still that way for me today. Every time I’m on stage the crowd energizes me. I put out a lot of effort and positive energy, but even more comes back to me. I love to perform, pouring out my feelings and disappearing in the moment, whether I’m singing to a packed stadium or in a small club. I am one of those lucky people who early in life discovered a gift, a talent, and a strength that has served as a foundation for everything else in my life.
    In this chapter I want to help you figure out how to generate happiness in the same way, from the inside out. I’m not referring to