Rebecca Gladstone MT-BC shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Rebecca, so good to connect and we’re excited to share your story and insights with our audience. There’s a ton to learn from your story, but let’s start with a warm up before we get into the heart of the interview. What do the first 90 minutes of your day look like?
I’ve been working on being really intentional about how I start my mornings. While I don’t follow this routine perfectly every day, my ideal first 90 minutes look something like this:
I begin with coffee or tea and eat breakfast out on my balcony while catching up on my phone—checking texts, emails, and social media. After that, I get dressed and ready for the day, even if I don’t have anywhere to be, since I work from home most of the time.
Next, I go for a walk outside. I’ve found that getting some sunlight and movement first thing in the morning has a huge impact on my mental health and productivity. When I return, I try to spend a few quiet minutes meditating, journaling, or reading in my little meditation nook.
Finally, I write out my to-do list and schedule for the day—and then I’m ready to dive in!
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Rebecca Gladstone, a board-certified music therapist, Jewish cantor, and children’s book author based in Miami, Florida. I run two heart-centered ventures that reflect the dual passions in my life: Gladly Music (https://www.gladlymusic.com), which offers music therapy services, and my independent work as a freelance cantor, life-cycle officiant, and Jewish educator (https://www.glad2bejewish.com).
Through Gladly Music, I primarily support children, teens, and families—using music as a powerful therapeutic tool to nurture mental health, communication, and emotional growth. As a cantor, I connect with individuals across the spectrum of Jewish life—leading services, officiating life-cycle events such as weddings, B’nai Mitzvah, funerals, and baby namings, and creating meaningful spiritual experiences for all Jews.
I recently published my first children’s book, “Modeh Ani: I’m Glad to Be Me,” which blends music and Jewish values in a joyful and inclusive way. The book helps young children begin their day with gratitude and features a sing-along track that’s perfect for use at home or in the classroom.
At the heart of everything I do is a deep passion for using music to foster connection—to ourselves, to one another, and to something greater.
Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. What relationship most shaped how you see yourself?
The relationship that has most shaped how I see myself is my relationship with Judaism—but it hasn’t always been an easy one. For much of my life, I felt like an outsider in my own faith. I grew up going through the motions—celebrating holidays, attending services—but the rituals felt hollow. My family was on autopilot, doing what we were “supposed” to do without ever really connecting to the meaning behind it all.
As I got older, that disconnect grew into something deeper—feelings of doubt, isolation, and not belonging. I carried that with me for a long time, assuming there wasn’t space in Judaism for someone like me.
But then something unexpected happened: after becoming a board-certified music therapist, I was offered a cantorial soloist role. I felt completely unqualified, but I showed up—and something shifted. I started exploring Judaism on my own terms, questioning, learning, and slowly rebuilding a relationship that had once felt broken.
Now, as a cantor and music therapist, my work is rooted in that journey. My relationship with Judaism taught me that there’s more than one way to belong—and that sacred questioning is part of the tradition itself. It shaped not only how I see myself, but also how I show up for others: with empathy, openness, and a deep commitment to helping people find their own way in.
When you were sad or scared as a child, what helped?
When I was sad or scared as a child, music was my refuge. Whether I was standing on my bed putting on a full solo concert or fully immersing myself in strengthening my vocal skills as a teen, singing gave me a sense of control when everything else felt overwhelming. I loved focusing on the details—my tone, my breath, the shape of each phrase. It allowed me to disconnect from the chaos around me and enter a space that felt safe, expressive, and entirely my own.
Choir rehearsals were especially healing. Even after a terrible day at school or during tense moments at home, the second I walked into that room, everything else faded. There was structure, harmony—literally and emotionally—and, for a while, I felt like I truly belonged.
That deep, personal relationship with music is what led me to become both a music therapist and a cantor. I know firsthand how powerful music can be in helping people navigate pain, find clarity, and feel connection. It carried me through difficult times in my own childhood, and now I have the privilege of helping others access that same healing power.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. Is the public version of you the real you?
This is such an interesting and important question. When I first started this work, I often felt like there were two completely different versions of me: the professional and the personal. That disconnect led to feelings of imposter syndrome and a lot of anxiety.
Over time—through self-work, confidence-building, and getting to know myself—I’ve learned to integrate those parts of me. I like the metaphor of wearing different hats. In the past, I was wearing a mask—trying to be who I thought I should be in professional settings. Now, it feels more like a hat: it’s still me, just showing up in the way that’s needed in a given context.
This is actually a topic I talk about often with my clients—especially those struggling with identity, masking, or the pressure to show up a certain way in different environments. We explore how to stay authentic while also adapting to different roles or expectations.
I no longer feel like I’m pretending. I’m just choosing which parts of myself to highlight in a moment, without compromising who I am.
Okay, so before we go, let’s tackle one more area. Have you ever gotten what you wanted, and found it did not satisfy you?
Absolutely. I worked incredibly hard to become a music therapist, and for years it was my dream. But when I finally got there—working full-time in the field—I found myself dreading Mondays. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about my clients; I actually loved the sessions themselves. The problem was deeper: I felt exhausted, overextended, and disconnected from the version of the work I had imagined.
I had taken on too much, said yes when I should’ve said no, worked with populations I wasn’t passionate about, and struggled with confidence in my role. It was disorienting—how could something I worked so hard for, something I thought I was meant to do, leave me feeling so drained?
During that time, I came across a quote that stopped me in my tracks: “If you find yourself resisting the work you’re doing, pause and ask why. If your body or mind is sending warning signs, why are you still pushing through something that doesn’t bring you joy?” That gave me a moment of clarity.
I made the shift to becoming fully self-employed and started designing my work around what actually lights me up. I began trusting my intuition, honoring what felt right, and giving myself permission to evolve.
Just because something once felt like the right path doesn’t mean we’re obligated to stay on it forever. We’re allowed to grow. And by listening to that inner voice, I’ve been able to show up for my clients and my work with so much more presence, passion, and authenticity.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.gladlymusic.com, https://gladbejewish.com, https://www.amazon.com/Modeh-Ani-Im-Glad-Be/dp/B0F1W5Z8SX
- Instagram: @gladly.music @glad2bejewish
- Other: Tik Tok: @glad2bejewish
Image Credits
Fem Force Miami
