These songs and lyrics transcend gender, resonating with a broader theme of the rejection of imposed limitations on individual potential. Or as I would say it, don’t tell me who I am or what I am capable of being.
I was a bold child. I wanted to outlive everyone’s expectations. When I was told I couldn’t do something, especially because I was a girl, I’d prove the nay-sayer wrong. I led a swim lane of mostly boys who were older than me. I did pull-ups instead of the chin-hold during the presidential fitness test. I climbed the rope in gym class, and then I climbed it again without using my legs. I acted silly to distract from someone else who was becoming uncomfortable. I protected classmates who were being teased. I never wore a dress to Sunday service – only for holidays to appease my mom.
If this sounds semi-familiar, you know what comes next.
The character degradation in an effort to make me conform, step in line – societal instructions on who I need to be. Teachers told me I was stupid, saying I wouldn’t amount to anything. Classmates teased me because I was too strong, too bold, too silly, too slow at reading. Adults told me to watch my figure, be more lady-like, or reminded me that tomboys don’t get the prince. With each comment, each heartbreak, I weakened a bit more. The power of these anthems began to erode, and a new story started to take hold.
Many of you can relate to the sensation of showing up authentically as a child and being met with opposition, getting hurt. Unless we had supportive parents or effective coping mechanisms, we began to structure our lives in ways that minimized pain to protect us. These experiences often mark the beginning of th stories of our stressed-out souls: I’m invisible, I’m not enough, I don’t matter, I’m not safe, I’m crazy, I’m a failure, I’m different, I’m flawed, I’m not important, I’m weak, I’m alone, I’m less than, I’m stuck, I’m not perfect, I don’t belong, I’m not whole…
These stories create the parameters in which we reside. We structure our lives within them to keep us safe: not allowing people close, keeping conversations focused on others to stay hidden, pleasing others so they’ll need us, or dismissing our needs in fear of what others might think. Actions that protect, rather than reflect our worth and value.
Our value and worth does not come from the input of other people. They come from a deeper knowing of who we are – our talents, our wisdom, our character, and style. Stress enters when we live based on the terms and conditions of others, not our own. Our bodies absorb that stress and give it back in the form of joint pain, upper body tension, headaches, withdrawal from family and friends, feeling stuck or aimless, loss of hope, overeating, or doom scrolling to numb and distract us from reality.
We can’t keep up with the pressures placed upon us, but as my dear friend, whom I met when I was five, shared, we can learn to put them down. In other words, we can choose to edit our narrative and take the story in a whole other direction.
Oh, I'm just a girl, living in captivity
Your rule of thumb makes me worrisome
Oh, I'm just a girl, what's my destiny?
What I've succumbed to is making me numb
—
Hurt that's not supposed to show and tears that fall when no one knows
When you're trying hard to be your best could you be a little less?
—
You don’t listen to her
You don’t care how it hurts
Entering midlife is a natural reckoning period, determining what habits, thoughts, relationships, actions, and stories will serve us in the future, and which no longer serve our needs. Transformation begins when we accept these behaviors have been providing protection – they got us here, and now that protection no longer serves who we’re becoming. As I move into the next chapter of my life, I have greater insight into myself and how I want to operate in the world.
We get to choose: stay stuck in this story or unwind the story, offering alternative perspectives on life. I think that’s why I love Beyoncé’s lyrics so much – they offer an experience from an alternative perspective. The space she creates for the listener to imagine an alternative narrative is powerful and gives us wisdom to decide who we want to be. The song also opens up the idea that we can relearn to live within our worth and values.
The distance between No Doubt’s and Beyoncé’s songs spans 13 years and reflects vastly different cultural and racial experiences. Gwen Stefani, from No Doubt, used her position to sing with vigor and rage. In contrast, “If I Were a Boy” offers a mellow take on similar themes, highlighting the societal expectations for Black women and women of color to avoid being “too vocal” or “angry.” This contrast underscores how institutional racism and prejudice reinforce collective narratives, making it even more challenging to overcome personal ones.
As individuals reclaim their stories, they can support historically excluded groups in reclaiming their collective narratives. Perhaps the world is catching up to where we aspire to be. Even AI has a fresh take on No Doubt’s “Just a Girl,” generating updated lyrics based on current thoughts, trends, and research. Insert your identity into the song, and make the story yours:
‘Cause I’m just a girl, but I won’t be confined
I’ll speak my truth, won’t be undermined
Oh, I’m just a girl, with dreams and a voice
I choose my path, I make my own choice