Maybe if he’d written a song about it, calling her his “number one slut,” that would have been better — possibly even going platinum.
Everywhere we turn — from Love & Hip Hop, whose stars find solace in being one of their men’s many sexual partners, as long as they are the number one, to The Bachelor, in which women degrade one another in hopes of becoming the last bride standing — misogyny is being sold to us under the guise of competition and a good beat.
The Bachelor, which has aired for 16 seasons, is “prime-time” misogyny — women competing for love and begging for affection, then receiving roses like a “pat on the head” for losing their self-respect while attempting to win a man’s affection.
Is this the type of romance to which young girls should aspire — one in which they lay their dignity on the table in pursuit of being some person’s “number one”? Or allowing their partner to call them everything under the sun as long as the hidden meaning, buried somewhere underneath the degradation, is complimentary?
I grew up in the 1990s and nodded my head to Apache’s “Gangsta Bitch,” too, but when Queen Latifah asked us, “Who you calling a bitch?” Our answer was a resounding “Not me! Oh no, he didn’t!”
It was different then. We had a host of female rappers who made us want to be accountable for our bodies and our brains. They told us to unite, express ourselves and know that we were queens worthy of value and respect. But here we are, more than two decades later, and it seems that women have packed up their self-worth and pride along with their Cross Colours jeans and Timbs.
Not all change is good.
The ’90s may have brought us some questionable fashion choices, but the decade also managed to give women respect and appreciation, as well as a good beat. I don’t know about you, but I would rather be someone’s imperfect queen than his “perfect bitch” any day.