Song of the Day
DAUGHTER – Beyoncé
Today, I’ll be dissecting the song DAUGHTER by Beyoncé, our mother. I think it’s very fitting that the first song I talk about — and find complete solace in — is a Beyoncé song. So, let’s get into it.
When Beyoncé dropped COWBOY CARTER on March 29 of last year, I was hooked on the first full listen of the album. On the second listen, some songs held more personal weight for me than others. DAUGHTER was one of them.
In the song, Beyoncé dives into the true and complex feelings of infidelity, and although I can relate to that feeling all too well, what struck me more was her expression of anger — maybe even violent anger. She compares and recognizes these negative emotions as resembling those of her father. As a threat, she warns people not to think that just because she’s “calm” or tries to be the bigger person, it doesn’t discredit the raw and vicious thoughts she sometimes wants to act on — even thoughts of wanting to harm someone.
Being a twin, I’ve always wanted to distinguish myself from my sister. The constant need to stand out on my own was a recurring theme in our lives — and sometimes still is. When we were younger, my sister was assigned the typical “mean” twin role, and by default, I was the “nice” twin. They were fixed roles, and they followed us pretty much all our lives. I can’t speak for any siblings or twins who were assigned the “mean” twin or sibling role, but I can speak for those of us who were given the “nice” one.
In comparison to the “mean” twin/sibling role, it’s theoretically a good one — but it comes with restrictions. I swear I’m going to tie this back to the song and wrap it with a bow, stay with me y’all lol. As I was saying, when that role is assigned to you at a young age, it becomes limiting. The moment you want to step outside of it, others feel like you’re “changing” or say, “This isn’t you.” As if you’re a one-dimensional character.
Now, back to the song.
When I heard the lyrics:
“They keep sayin’ that I ain’t nothin’ like my
Father
But I’m the furthest thing from choir boys
And altars
If you cross me, I’m just like my father
I am colder than Titanic water”
I was fortunate enough to have both my parents in my life who loved and cared about me. My parents were… unique in their own way.
My mom — sweet, gentle, brighter than the sun.
My dad — tough, sometimes cold, stubborn.
My dad was strict, and my mom gave us more leeway. When I was younger, my sisters and even my dad would say I was just like my mom. I was sensitive — still am — forgiving, and always saw the best in people. My sister, on the other hand, could relate more to my dad. The comparison never bothered me, because my view of my mother’s strength never wavered.
It was the expectation that bothered me.
When I heard Beyoncé sing those lyrics for the first time, I knew exactly what she meant. Emotionally, my dad and I couldn’t be more different. But in those moments where I feel betrayed, enraged, or embittered, I can almost feel myself turning into my father.
“Help me, Lord, from these fantasies in my
Head
They ain’t ever been safe ones
I don’t fellowship with these fake ones”
Having that “nice sibling” role assigned to me had its limitations. When I was slighted or wronged and felt like I couldn’t let my anger speak, I buried it in my thoughts. I was afraid I’d go against the status quo. If I let myself show a human and reasonable emotion — who am I? My sense of self felt attacked. My desire to stand out from my twin was suddenly in question.
Now that I’m older — and many therapy sessions later — I’ve finally broken away from the “nice sibling” role. That doesn’t mean I’ve adopted the “mean sibling” role either. I’ve just become comfortable with the fact that I have a range of emotions. One character trait does not define me, and I don’t have to stick to just one. I’ve learned that if people expect you to be one way and get let down, that’s on them, not you.
Obviously, this song goes beyond just being cold like your father. Beyoncé talks about infidelity and the anger she possesses when she finds out — but that’s what I love about music. You interpret it how you want to.
So, if you feel like you’ve been assigned a “role” in your childhood and you want to break free from that, I invite you to listen to the song.
I love that I am both my mother and my father. And it’s even cooler that I’m the only one of their children who carries both of their last names.
I am the daughter of Stormie Ashley and Frank Washington.
With love,
Aliah Ashley Washington
