This week, I Am: Céline Dion is being released into our open arms, giving us insight into Céline's life, her career, and her battle with Stiff Person Syndrome, the autoimmune disorder that's kept her from singing.

Obviously, there's no need for me to introduce nor describe the cultural cachet of Céline Dion. Her voice is powerful, her persona is legendary, and from the start of her mainstream career in the late 1980s, she's cemented herself as a fixture of the ballad landscape. Of course, there's the chance that, unlike me, your childhood wasn't defined by the high, long notes of our Quebecois diva; that at no point were you compelled to tape "The Power of Love" off the radio and create a choreographed routine on your rollerblades that represented the spectacle of what you believed she was singing about. (I'm still not quite sure.) Thus, these are the seven songs that I believe are necessary to understanding her lore and her capacity for going harder than anyone should ever expect to. Just don't blame me when you wipe out on your rollerblades, distracted by her range.

On Canada Day 1996, I woke up before my parents and began the day in a whole new way: I took my newly-purchased copy of Live a Paris out of its wrapper, placed it in my CD player, and put "To Love You More" on repeat. As an end-of-school gift, my Nana had treated me to a trip to HMV and, knowing that going into seventh grade meant I was now a grown-ass adult, I bought the only appropriate item: a Céline Dion CD.

While the album is primarily in French, I fixated on its single that even my Dad recognized as a testament to the power of our girl, Céline. Between the violins, the chorus, and the finale consisting of no actual words, this was a gateway into what determination sounded like. This is how I bet I'd sound if I just really tried to sing, I remember thinking. I was incorrect, and my attempts woke up both parents, ruining my precious delusion.

In what can only be described as the only adult contemporary duet that truly matters, Céline Dion and Barbra Streisand use their talents and tenacity to record a song that epitomises exactly what it sounds like when any of us talk about our respective love lives. Do you like somebody? Tell them. Are you in love? Hold them close to hear their heartbeat. Not sure what to ask for Christmas? Easy: love ("the gift you give yourself").

Is any of the advice particularly good or sound? Absolutely not. Both women are sure only of Céline's own feelings, and those feelings applied to a real-life situation would absolutely scare away any person with boundaries. In fact, as a 30-something woman, I can say with confidence in my heart that if you're planning on telling anybody anything, do not tell them anything these women want you to say. And yet, when this song comes on, it is against the law not to sing one of the parts and pretend that you too are in the recording studio.

This song goes so hard that the first notes bring me back to every seventh and eighth grade dance and the hope my crush would consider me the Rose to his Jack. But more importantly, it is a song indelibly marked on our hearts and in our psyches, representing the pinnacle of late-nineties pop culture and the sound of Irish woodwinds.

Did any of us actually see Up Close and Personal, the Robert Redford/Michelle Pfieffer film tethered to "Because You Loved Me"? Likely not, because if you were coming of age circa 1996, it seemed like an inherently adult movie that starred adults who had adult problems. (See: boring.) Yet the song itself came to mean something to even us middle schoolers who, drawn in by the sentiments of Céline, purchased Let's Talk About Love in droves and made it our entire personalities.

In terms of accessibility, "Because You Loved Me" offers flawless execution, particularly since you could apply the lyrics to almost anything: your cat, your Nano baby, your POG collection, and the poster of Jonathan Taylor Thomas you ripped out of your latest Tiger Beat.

The only person who loved Céline Dion more than me and my friends was my aunt who had the entire Celine discography and would play it for me when I came over in the summer. Thus, we have her to thank for this journey.

Like all Dion ballads, "The Power of Love" is almost frightening in its commitment to a particular brand of relationship: over-the-top, largely aggressive, frightening. This, dear reader, is the power of love; an anthem so rich in meaning that it seemed to perfectly suit The Colour of Love's album cover while echoing the version of romance I saw in my Nana's soap operas. Applied to real life, most of us would curse any couple this demonstrative in their affections, but this isn't real life -- it's a 1993 Céline Dion hit, and sense has no place here.

You can't fully appreciate Céline Dion without the full and complete acceptance of Unison, the groundbreaking 1990 album that assured Céline's place on the podium of superstars. Some might argue that "Beauty and the Beast" was her entry into mainstream radio play, but those people are wrong, and I refuse to acknowledge them. "Where do all the lonely hearts go?" she riddles us, her devoted listeners, in these philosophical lyrics. The answer? To the top of this list, which is also an incredible playlist, if I do say so myself.

Six minutes of pure, uninterrupted, one-of-a-kind reflection of a romance gone horribly awry. A music video featuring candlelight, satin nightgowns, and a motorcycle-riding ghost. Wind. Thunder. Lightening. References to passionate nights so visceral they trigger the type of memories Anne Rice has based full novels on. (Personally, this type of relationship sounds very stressful.)

Céline Dion had no legal right to commit so fully to a sonic and visual experience that doesn't make incredible amounts of sense, but captured the essence of what it meant to feel any emotion between the ages of 12 and 21. At no point has anyone come close to achieving this brand of melodrama, and quite frankly, nobody ever will.

And that's the way it is. (Which is another great Céline Dion song by the way, and one I consider a runner-up.)