B*tch, Mother, Child, Lover
Recently, I stumbled back across the song ‘B*tch’ by Meredith Brooks (1997) on Spotify and fell in love with it all over again. I immediately pronounced it my personal anthem and choice of funeral song to all my nearest and dearest.
“Certainly is, Sweetheart”- My husband, face buried in Reddit.
“You wish. You’re just not that complicated.” - My best mate, via Whatsapp.
The talented Maddy Butcher’s Instagram. And see here: spotify users, or desktoppers to get the track cracking whilst you (hopefully) read on, with apologies for the ear worm you’ll now suffer for the rest of today.
From the opening rock-guitar chords, ‘B*tch’ makes me hold my head up high. It provides an instant injection of determination and when I listen closely to the lyrics, it feels like the soundtrack to my last few years - particularly now I can identify with ‘mother’ and have been proclaimed a ‘b*tch’ online. Plus it makes for a nice elaboration on the ‘imperfect people’ theme I brought up in my blog last week.
I, like many people, reserve the right to choose a new funeral track on a whim. For most of the noughties, I was channeling Destiny’s Child’s ‘Independent Women’ - taking strength from its Feminist message of girl-power and self-reliance. But as surely as fundamental things changed in my life, my theme-tunes have evolved (and are now compiled, ready for my guest appearance on Radio 4’s ‘Desert Island Discs’. Life goal).
Amerie’s ‘Gotta Work’ whilst I co-founded and built up an international tech business, earning me awards and ‘most powerful’ plaudits. Etta James’ ‘At Last’ when I found love and got married; Bon Jovi’s ‘It’s my Life’ when I decided to step back from the stress and 100 hour work weeks. Bette Middler’s ‘Baby Mine’ when I entered motherhood. And more recently ‘B*tch’ when I started reading, asking unfashionable questions and in the process, managed to annoy nearly every one of my Feminist friends (and the whole of Twitter on one particularly surreal Sunday).
So bear with me as we go all A-level-English-student on the lyrics of ‘B*itch’ and look a little deeper into them. Shakespeare, this aint. Philosophy via trite pop-song lyrics? Let’s give it a go. You may well interpret these words differently. That’s your right and the power of all words and indeed, art - but here, with apologies to Meredith Brooks for the very possibly erroneous interpretation - is mine. Let’s go.
I hate the world today
Strong word, ‘hate’. I’m not all-in on that starting premise for the reasons I mentioned last week, but I sympathise with it. Things can seem pretty bleak today in our polarised world, let alone back in ‘97 when it was written. In many ways, it seems worse. Poverty, division, racism, sexism, climate-catastrophe and anxiety everywhere. This last week in the UK has seen an outpouring of female anger, frustration and grief in response to the tragic murder of Sarah Everard.
Painful personal experiences (Sarah’s and her family’s most tragically) take precedence over dry data (e.g. 69% of murder victims being male or 92% of attacks on women perpetrated by people they know). Both mainstream media and social media catastrophize everything in an attention-economy quest for click-bait and we are all fearful and angry as a result. The Power-of-Bad rules. We are encouraged to share our worst experiences and daily feelings of outrage, which are then further algorithmically exacerbated to contribute to an overwhelming sense of a crumbling, broken society. More musing on this to follow in later blogs.
You're so good to me, I know, but I can't change
Less sure on what she means here (I got a ‘B’ in English Lit) - but she’s possibly alluding to the fact that even when we know objectively that the world isn’t hateful - e.g. we have people who love us and might be so much luckier and better off than many - we still can’t help but feel bitter and aggrieved at times and/or that our outrage is justified to support those less fortunate than ourselves. Human nature, right? No one can walk around complacent in their own good fortune, no matter how much best-selling ‘gratitude journals’ might insist we do. If they do, they’re not people I want to be friends with. My best friends’ humour is as black and bleak as night (and as filthy as any stag party’s).
Tried to tell you, but you look at me like maybe I'm an angel underneath. Innocent and sweet
Yesterday I cried. Must have been relieved to see the softer side
Interesting.. I believe this is the first ‘gendered’ reference assuming the ‘you’ referenced in the song is a male. She imagines him giving her the benefit of the doubt and preferring to assume she isn’t as spiky as she presents. All women have a soft, innocent, sweet side, right? She cries! Phew! There is vulnerability there and maybe the male subject of the song can potentially play the traditional male protector role, after all, hence his relief? (I’m definitely reaching here).
But let’s pause, as this theme intrigues me and is one I muse on frequently. Over the last couple of ‘tuned in’ years I’ve noticed a contradiction in terms in this perception of the ‘softer side’ of women. These days, we’re constantly told that women are no different from men - just as capable, intellectual and strong - but also that we’re better in many ways and offer something different and ‘diverse’. This assertion is actually more commonly made by women than men. We offer a more feminine, conciliatory, empathetic touch to business, politics, media and more. We need more female heads of countries, CEOs and leaders for precisely these reasons, seemingly. I agree.
But which is it? Are we different or aren’t we? Is there a more ‘female’ brain? And are these attributes down to nature or nurture? To those who think that we do have something different to offer (‘on average’ obligatory disclaimer), why do they also frequently deny the possibility that these same differences might skew the averages when it comes to choice of subjects to study, career or work-life balance decisions? Curious. Confusing.
I can understand how you'd be so confused. I don't envy you
I'm a little bit of everything, all rolled into one
Thanks, Meredith. This. This is where the song gets me with its truth - because yes, absolutely. We are all, as individuals, complicated and a confusing jumble of contradictions, moods, reactions and grey. We don’t want to be pigeon-holed and we should reserve the right to change our attitudes according to the situation and stimuli around us. right?
I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint. I do not feel ashamed
I'm your hell, I'm your dream. I'm nothing in between
Yep. that’s me. Depending on the time of the month, whether I’ve eaten, how well I’ve slept, whether I’m homeschooling number-bonds to my 5 year old or whatever my last scroll on social media did to my mood. Most women, most people are all of them - and know this of themselves and those they’re close to - but seem content to assume others can be persistently one-dimensional. Particularly the ‘sinners’. More fool us.
You know you wouldn't want it any other way
Hell no, we wouldn’t. We love people’s complexities and contradictions and those who truly love us, love ours. We should give everyone the benefit of the doubt to shift between these moods and identities - forgiving the sin, the bitchiness, the bad days, the lash-outs and the ill-considered utterances, all the way through to each other’s fundamental choices around how best to love, be loved or to mother.
So take me as I am.
This may mean you'll have to be a stronger man.
Rest assured that when I start to make you nervous and I'm going to extremes
Tomorrow I will change and today won't mean a thing
Because surely we’re supposed to change - whether it’s our attitudes, opinions or outlook - as we grow and absorb new experiences and information. If we don’t change, we’re not learning or listening. It does take strength and, I’d add, broad mindedness and compassion - to not only accept, but embrace people as they are and as they come and as they will be in the future.
Just when you think, you got me figured out, the season's already changing
I think it's cool, you do what you do… And don't try to save me
Maybe we don’t need to save each other. As well-intentioned as the effort may be, maybe we need to give people credit, let them listen and learn for themselves and then live with their choices rather than assuming they need ‘saving’ or correcting to the ‘right’ way of seeing things (our way). We should have conversations, and by all means explore the differences - expanding each others’ outlooks whilst we do so - but possibly we shouldn’t seek to ‘save’. That only annoys people and worse, entrenches them further in whatever attitude or mood we were disapproving of. ‘Bitchier’ if you challenge an irritated woman on her assertion she’s ‘fine’. Extremism, if you take the same analogy into the realm of political conviction… Unwise. And will backfire.
I'm a bitch, I'm a tease, I'm a goddess on my knees
When you hurt, when you suffer, I'm your angel undercover
I've been numb, I'm revived. Can't say I'm not alive
You know I wouldn't want it any other way
Again. All women, right? Certainly most of us are all fierce lionesses for those we love when they hurt or suffer - our partners, friends and children. Although we’re possibly at different stages on the spectrum of ‘numb’ to ‘revived’.
Personally, my husband might say he’d wish I was more of a ‘tease’ but I like the goddess bit here. Plus I know I’ve been guilty of the feeling of ‘numbness’, sleepwalking through experiences and times I’ll never get back.
No longer. The most pertinent words of all for me in this song are ‘revived’ and ‘alive’. The perfect words to describe where I’ve come to on my journey over the last few years (as opposed to the much overused modern synonym ‘woke’....)
And cherry on the top for this as my anthem- the ‘undercover angel’ reference - wow. Would you believe that was the actual title of a TV documentary I featured in in 2015?
Ok. So you get the idea. And admittedly, it was probably more GCSE than A-level, but there are a number of themes in here that I hope to unpick further in future blogs.
You can see why it’s my funeral song, right? I’m just praying my mother goes before me as I don’t relish the look on her face as my casket comes in to the chorus.
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