The words “I Love You” glittered across the silky white backdrop like an ironic slap to my face. What was supposed to be a symposium on love and affection in faith suddenly shifted into a discussion on domestic violence. It only took a few words, a few metaphors, and I was suddenly in shivers, trying to avoid eye contact with my mother, whose own eyes were already filled with concern. I shot her a fake smile in hopes of fooling her, as well as myself, into thinking that I’d be okay. But I wasn’t. Not when the speaker began dissecting the nuances of emotional, psychological and verbal abuse. “Unlike physical abuse, that you can observe as it heals, emotional and psychological abuse often goes unnoticed at first. It builds up on the inside overtime, causing destruction as it resembles an overbearing mountain.”
To the outside world it seems so common sense to leave, to abandon that relationship that makes you feel like you carry a boulder wherever you go and destroys your everything internally. But the cycle continues because it’s harder, so much harder to leave, than everyone assumes. The further she described the weight, the heavier my tears got until they spilled over and down my cheeks uncontrollably.
As if being the only woman in shambles at the mosque wasn’t bad enough, a few women approached me, not to recognize my tears but to recognize me as the bride from last summer. “Congratulations!” they squealed with happiness, ignorant of the fact that that Summer bride, turned into an Autumn divorcee and a Winter survivor. I bit my tongue to force back the newly born tears and found I had no strength whatsoever to even utter the words, “It’s over.” Instead I smiled sheepishly and rushed to my car in hopes of finding refuge.
That plan was an epic fail the moment Taylor Swift’s terrifying new hit “Style” blasted through my speakers as I turned on the radio. I instantly slammed the power button and headed home disgusted. The first time I heard that song, I wanted to vomit. Literally, from the flashbacks of struggling with that never ending cycle that became harder and harder to tolerate and hearing it get so fluffed up in a demented song. I got home shaking from how horrible it was—on all levels. How is it justifiable for a once female empowering role model to now sing in glory of very dysfunctional and abusive relationships? Because she’s still managed to keep her clothes on? That was the reason I got to why she remains in upheld standards of mothers everywhere.
I wondered where that girl from almost eight years ago went. The one I heard on the radio being interviewed at 7:30 a.m. on my way to finals. The girl that, when asked, if she feared her raw and stand up lyrics would intimidate men, simply said, “Well if he doesn’t want to be my next Track 12, he shouldn’t mess around.” I thought, hell yes! That’s what women need to hear and be inspired by. Those are the kind of lyrics that should get Grammy nominations.
Apparently with increased fame comes decreased values and so the torch bearing role model succumbed to the influences of a sexualized music industry and now her songs and videos are all about women not only accepting, but enjoying tumultuous relationships like a guilty pleasure. She knew he was trouble when he walked in and decided to dive in head first. She has a blank space and just has to fill it with the next “new money suit and tie” because “love’s a game.” Has anyone ever just sat and genuinely listened to these lyrics? Watched the recent “Blank Space” video? Yeah? That’s totally legitimate material for young adults today.
I fixate on this artist in particular because she has launched a movement and has a wonderful cult following that worries me. An artist this big, with such a loyal fan base, needs to recognize the influence she carries. An artist this in tune and involved with her fans, needs to tread carefully and launch a movement to inspire more secure and powerful individuals—both male and female. To glorify cheating, the cyclical pains of emotionally distraught relationships and the irresistible nature of sticking it through for that passionate heat that it still yields is not only sick but ridiculously unhealthy. I’ve been there, and it’s beyond awful. That back and forth lifestyle that leaves you feeling so worthless, so ugly and so useless is never something to chuckle about so cutely, like she does in both her new songs.
All this and yet she is praised as a young trend setter, because of her modest attire. Look, I’m not advertising that those artists who do reveal too much skin are so much better, but a perfect comparison is the unbelievably empowering lyrics Ariana Grande has revealed in her work. From “Problem” to “Love Me Harder” to “Break Free” she is advertising the recognition of her value and her worth as an individual and demanding that the man recognize it or else…. That’s what people need today (and notice I said need, maybe not want, which is sadly what drives the music industry and every other industry today).
We need more Adeles, Carrie Underwoods and may I even throw it in there, Evanescences (Amy Lee). I came across a post on Facebook that was a phenomenal summary of my point. It was a picture of a woman holding up a paper that read, “I need feminism because I am tired of having to dance to songs that degrade me every time I go out.” It’s true; absolutely positively true. People are subliminally being fed this information that, as can be seen by today’s devolving societies, is manifested into action. Whether or not one wants to believe it, these things are subconsciously being registered and normalized. How many people have sang along to Taylor Swift’s new songs in karaoke and found it to be utterly fun not realizing she’s literally saying this—and imagine it coming from your nine-year-old daughter or niece:
"And I got that good girl fig and a tight little skirt..."
"I say, I heard, that you been out and about with some other girl
He says, What you've heard is true but I can't stop thinking about you,
And I, I said I've been there a few times. Take me home. Just take me home.”
It’s great that Taylor Swift wants to expand her artistic talents and abilities beyond country. Kudos, really! But not at the price of losing soul, depth and decorum. Not when she’s becoming the fastest selling advertisement unconsciously raising the next generation of girls who will inherently gravitate towards the men who under appreciate them, use them, play them because it’s sexy to “love the players” and men will always be on board because they “love the game.”
Women need empowerment. Women need to be reminded of their value and their talents and what they are capable of doing. Women and girls don't need to see Taylor Swift smashing a jerk's car with his golf clubs in a mansion that she possibly inherited from her “long list of ex-lovers” with the "new money suit and tie" that she knocks out on the floor and sexually bites the lips of. Young girls don't need to sing along to verses that glorify infidelity and dysfunctional unhealthy relationships. They need someone to encourage them to recognize when it's time to go; when it's time to break that cycle and realize that just because there's attraction, lust and the James Dean look doesn’t mean you'll never go out of style. And men! Men need to hear about how these things hurt, not how these things are oh so sexy. Oh so dreamy. Oh so addicting.
I've got nothing against this girl personally—nor anyone else whose music isn't as kosher, shall we call it, as humanity clearly needs today—but for someone so influential and so involved with her fans, the expectation of setting a better example is there. Someone with her experience and paths should utilize this strength to lead women into roads of power and resilience that doesn't resort to sexualizing and beautifying the art of playing and being played. There's enough domestic abuse going on in relationships today that we need to educate, mitigate and prevent.
I used to be a fan but how can I be now? How much more do I betray myself after having done so in my relationship and then deciding to run when I found the chance? I loved the Taylor that sang “Mine” or “Eyes Open” but she lost me. And though I may be no one to her and an insignificant loss to the millions of cult followers out there, I won't remain quiet about this kind of music and entertainment. Not when it's coming from those our youth hold dearest.
