Stacey and I got married in 2004 and pretty quickly welcomed our first daughter, Ava. All during Stacey’s pregnancy, I was traveling back and forth from Utah to Nashville, trying to line up producers and contacts to make my first album. I met with MCA, Capital, and most of the other major record labels.
Stacey and I had met not long after that first meeting with Evander and she stole my heart, time, and attention. For the most part. Even though she was very supportive, it was difficult to be newlyweds, expecting our first baby, and having me gone a lot. Stacey didn’t ever go to Nashville with me and it was a challenge for both of us to have me try to straddle two different worlds. I was also on the phone constantly, trying to push forward with my career, and that bothered her. Not to mention the strain of worldly pressure.
During a meeting with one of the record label presidents, he suggested that they promote me as a single man. “But I’m happily married,” I told him, turning my wedding band around on my finger. “I’d prefer to wear my wedding ring everywhere I go.” “It’s awfully shiny, though, and would be a distraction on stage,” he responded, as casually as he could. “Tim McGraw wears his wedding ring on stage,” I said. “Well Tim McGraw was single once and he’s Tim McGraw. He can do what he wants. Besides, we can sell you better as a single man. Younger girls buy a lot of records!”
After that conversation, I knew that particular label wasn’t the right fit for me. Maybe that president was just feeling me out to see what I’d be willing to do, but I definitely wasn’t going to “sell myself” without Stacey. On another label visit, Evander and I met with the producer of a smaller record label, a guy named Mike. This is the guy who had found Tim McGraw and Leanne Rhymes. I played one of my demos for him. “Eric, you’re a star!” he said excitedly, after listening to my song.
We immediately started talking about doing a joint-venture deal with Evander and taking my career to the next level. I was thrilled! I called Stacey to tell her and she was excited, too, but for some reason it didn’t feel completely right to either of us. Ava was so tiny and we weren’t making any money during all of this. We were living on credit cards and barely making ends meet.
Regardless of any hesitation we felt, I was soon sitting in an office in Nashville with Evander and a bunch of music people, most of them associated with BMI, signing on with Real Deal Records. Everyone was excited and I was pretty sure I was on my way to being a star, just like that producer had told me.
When I came home from one of my Nashville trips, Stacey and I watched Walk the Line, the movie about Johnny Cash and his life. The movie depicts what happened to him, how fame and fortune caused a lot of pain, heartache, and destruction along the way. His life was a disaster in so many ways and as we watched the movie, I had a moment where I could see myself as him. Almost like a vision, I could see Eric Ryan as Johnny Cash Part 2. I tried so hard to pretend that I didn’t see it, but I did.
Almost NO relationship in the entertainment industry works out in the end, I thought to myself. Why do I think I’d be any different? As I was having these thoughts, but trying my best to brush them aside, I noticed that Stacey was crying. When we got home, she went into our bedroom and shut the door. I could hear her sobbing behind our locked door. I think she had seen that vision of what our life could be – or not be – just like I had. And it terrified her. It took awhile for her to be able to talk about it without crying, but one day we had a conversation that told me how she really felt about the whole thing.
“Is this really what you want?” she asked after I told her I thought I’d better make another trip to Nashville. “Yes,” I responded enthusiastically, almost angrily. “I believe that we can have a good life if I make it big. Once I start performing in front of thousands of people, making thousands of dollars, all our problems will go away.” “But what if they get worse?” she asked. “What if it doesn’t work out?”
I knew she had good points, but I didn’t want to admit that she was right.I kept trying to make music work, justifying the choice in my mind by telling myself that the music industry would be good for us, that I could make it if I just pushed hard enough. But my conscience was screaming at me to run as faraway from Nashville as I could.
One afternoon, my cell phone rang and I saw that it was Mike fromNashville. “Eric, we need to do a radio show tour as soon as possible. Your record is fantastic and we need to push it right away!” I could see Ava and Stacey playing in the next room and couldn’t help but feel distracted. “We want you to fly out next week,” Mike told me. In that moment, God spoke to me and I knew, without any justification, what I had to do. I took a breath. “I’m sorry, but that’s my daughter’s 1st birthday,” I said. “I can’t come out that day.” There was silence on the phone for several seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, Mike said, “Eric, I don’t think you understand what this is going to take.” “I think you’re right,” I said. “I need to think about things.”
I hung up and walked over to Stacey and Ava, dropping on the floor and breaking down crying. I knew it was over, but God comforted me in that moment. I had peace for the first time in a long time. Within a year, I entered the police academy. It was hard to leave my music dreams behind, but I never looked back. I knew God wanted that chapter to be closed and the next one to be opened. Looking back, there are times I got so mad at Stacey and other family members who voiced fears about me being part of the music industry. But now I know I was only getting mad because I was wrong the entire time and too afraid to admit it. Music life was not for us. It wasn’t a life for my family. At least not at that moment in time. I think Garth Brooks was right when he sang about Unanswered Prayers.
