I listened to “Daughter” three times from Cowboy Carter. Back to back to back. I spent much of the day working and then playing caddy for my husband this evening. I thought I didn’t have it in me but I think this ritual is starting to grow roots.
I heard a painting in this song. A woman beating someone to death, standing over the black and blue bruised corpse, coolly measuring just how distressed to look as she makes her exit, scantily clad with fabric torn.
I thought about why anyone would choose to bring such a fantasy to life with their angelic voice. I think she is singing it because we all know living out our angriest, coldest fantasies is a non-negotiable. We would be lying if we do not admit there has been times where we picture ourselves as the main character in the violent, revenge film or daydream about a world where we could do whatever we want without consequence.
I know “I am not colder than Titanic waters” but that version of myself is free to live in a fantasy or singing alongside Beyonce from my couch as I did this evening.
Kristina Hamlett writes to connect, heal, and be a force for change. 