An Ode to Beyoncé


O, Beyoncé, thou glorious goddess of the feminine anthem, thank you for living your best life, because your best life rocks our world.  And damn if our world doesn’t need to be rocked like a hurricane these days.

You had me at “If you liked it you shoulda put a ring on it.”  You had me because you were narrating a night out from a gorgeous woman’s perspective, a woman who is nobody’s pawn and nobody’s object.  You had me because you were asking for some r-e-s-p-e-c-t.  You had me because I was so freaking tired of hearing women breathe into the microphone as though their voices are only relevant when they are telling a man what he wants to hear.

And it’s not just your words that get me.  It’s you, yourself.

You married a man who respects you and treats you right.  You married a man who speaks his mind about a man who would hit a woman and then keep on keepin on.  In his voice, in your voice, we have a strong counterpoint to the idea that sex and violence are inextricable—something women want and take in equal measure.  That message is coming through loud and clear in our media, and we need all the Beyoncés and the Jay-Zs we can get, laying the smack down on that bullshit. Thank you, bless you, for marrying this man and modeling a healthy relationship for your girl fans.  Because they are many, and they are listening.

And now, oh glorious woman, you are a mama.  Welcome to the adventure.

Thank you, bless you, for breastfeeding your baby girl in public.  Because when breasts like yours feed a child, people shut up and let you feed your child.  When breasts like yours get to be their full selves—all sexy and all nutritious at once—we see a woman living comfortably with her body, sexually and maternally.  And that is some awesomeness to the tenth freaking power.

A couple of weeks ago, on International Women’s Day, I was not feeling my full feminine power, which was just wrong, because I am quite a kickass goddess myself.  But on that day, of all days, my goddess was getting bogged down with the world.  And then I went to Zumba (always good for reviving the goddess), and danced to “Run the World (Girls),” and damn if you didn’t wake my goddess right on up.  We need you, Beyoncé, to go on  living your best life.  Because we may be able to run the world, but sometimes it’s easy to forget, and let the world run us.

This is an ode, so you know I love you—but there is one thing I’d like you to think about.  I just watched the video for “Who Run the World,” and I gotta say, the words and the pictures don’t match. In fact, I think that’s true for a lot of your visual images, both moving and still.  The pictures, which everyone knows are worth a thousand words, detract from your message.

You know I’m all about feminine power, all about owning sexuality, but I think this video gives the message that the way we run the world is through sex—through our power over men because they desire us.  That’s what media—music, TV, the internet—would have us believe.  And that’s all kinds of wrong.  What we need is to be our full goddess selves so that we enjoy our own desire and the desire of men, and then, as you put  it, “..get back to business.” If there’s one thing I would ask, Beyoncé, it would be that you put the same feminine perspective into your videos that you put into your lyrics—show us your beautiful self, but show us feminine power behind a desk, flying an airplane, speaking from a podium, performing surgery, fixing a car, signing a constitution.  Show us sexy in action, not just sexy in motion.

If anybody can do it, it’s you.  Cause you know how to sing from the goddess within.

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