The Commandment: Love Me As I Am
We’re likely all familiar with the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. They don’t always happen in that order or so neatly delineated, and we don’t just experience them after a death. The end of a relationship can trigger them as well - and this EP that I’ve been dripping out one song at a time touches on many of those experiences; “Don’t Wanna Feel” is about denial and depression (and includes a little bargaining), “Muscle Memory” touches on acceptance, and “Moth Wings” dips its toes into depression though it really speaks more to the sense of isolation experienced during an abusive relationship.
“The Commandment” speaks to anger and acceptance which combine to become righteous rage.
I'm not sure what you might imagine my writing process looks like (or if you imagine it at all), but a lot of times it's me and a guitar in a comfy room with a cuppa something warm. This song was not that. I rage wrote this song. It was like I was possessed for two days until it was done. Just like 48 straight hours of me smashing my keyboard and screaming out lyrics until it all came together.
What dark muse compelled me to punch my Casio until music came out?
I'm about to get real personal, both to share my writing process and to provide a sort of PSA for anyone who might find themselves in a similar situation to the one that inspired The Commandment.
The conversation that ended my last relationship went roughly as follows:
As my ex and I drove home one afternoon, I asked him if he still found me attractive. He'd shown a lack of interest for months and - coupled with comments about my weight (he was worried I was going to develop diabetes because I was gaining too much weight and seemed too happy with my body despite this - at my heaviest, I weighed a whopping 10 pounds more than I do now and he knew I had struggled with anorexia for much of my life) - I felt unattractive, especially when the one person who should have found me beautiful seemed to find me repulsive. He said that, while he found me physically attractive (I believe his exact words were "physically, you're fine"), my personality wasn't "feminine" enough. I was into all this feminist stuff, which he spent several minutes complaining about while I quietly disassociated in the passenger seat, and - he claimed - he didn't know any man who would find that attractive.
The last bit stung, but mostly because it rang so hollow. Firstly, I'm bi so the threat of no man ever wanting me again falls pretty flat; there is a whole other sea of fish at my disposal, thank you. Secondly, I know women even more outspoken and politically active them myself with wonderful, loving male partners who support them and clearly find them sexy as hell. Hell, part of why I love hitting the road with the guys I tour with is because they themselves are feminists with empowered, supported, and supportive partners.
I started to think of all the other needlessly hurtful things he had said to me over the prior four years. Even just a month before, he had told me my that career "wasn't going anywhere" and that I wasn't "really doing anything" with my art when I told him I wasn't ready to get engaged, despite me not once mentioning my career during the discussion.
The words "I'm leaving" just kind of fell out of my mouth at that point. He told me I couldn't get out of an argument by threatening to leave and I told him it wasn't a threat. I started packing that afternoon.
The previous songs document a little bit of what happened between that fight and the birth of The Commandment two months later. I didn't start out angry, but grief tends to come in stages. Much like how the comments about my weight struck to my core, his attack on my femininity stuck with me. Even though I knew it was just another casually thrown barb meant to keep me too low to leave (he even later said he wasn’t sure why he said it when I confronted him; it was just casual cruelty), no amount of rationalizing could lessen the nagging fear that he was right. At points in my life, it has felt like the only thing feminine about me was my body - and I don't believe that your genitals determine your gender identity. So could I even call myself a woman if I didn't feel like one?
I think the moment I snapped out of this spiral and my perspective shifted was at the two-month mark of the free, post-breakup pet care I was providing my ex, when I realized how feminized my role in the relationship had been - and still was. I did the vast majority of the cooking, cleaning, and household management. I was his emotional support. When his family visited, I was de facto childcare. I had become a housewife despite having a job and earning more than him for much of our relationship. What was unfeminine about me? I knitted fucking baby booties for his nephew for chrissakes. What more could I do to prove my womanity?
Nothing. I didn't need to. He wanted a girl, not a woman. He wanted a submissive creature who would smile on command even on the days he spent slamming doors and screaming at the dog. He wanted a pretty punching bag - who also happened to be a good housekeeper (which I am not).
But he had asked for a woman and that's what I was. More than that, I was a witch; I claimed ownership over my body and my dreams and sought to control my own destiny. I didn't exude the "little f" feminine energy of the sweet Southern Belle, nicely made-up and demurring to her husband; I channeled the "big F" Feminine energy of Kali the mother and destroyer, the avenging Valkyrie, or of Macha cursing the men of Ulster.
No one got to define my Femininity for me. No one could tell me that it wasn't mine to claim or that it wasn't an integral part of my experience as a woman. Least of all someone who was so intimidated by that power that they would seek to crush it out of me.
And so, with that Valkyrie of rage perched on my shoulder and Macha's curse ringing in my ears, I started violently making music until The Commandment came out. I poured every bit of knowledge and talent and skill he pretended I didn't have into it for two days until my cup was full to running over. It felt like vomiting poison; I couldn't stop until it was all out and I felt lighter once every last drop had been extracted in song.
At the end of it, I'd written something that was too complex for me to sing and play at the same time, but my band and later producer Nick brought it to life. It was a difficult one to approach in the studio, but the struggle was well worth it. With Aaron Shafer-Hais and Keenan-Keaton Payne holding down an incredibly tight rhythm section, the rhythmic stops were able to shine and provided a perfect back drop for Nick’s guitar and Greg Herndon’s genius key and organ performances.
When I reached out to my friend Kiki about selecting the perfect Tarot card, Strength seemed the obvious choice. Strength is usually depicted as a woman calming a vicious wild animal with a gentle touch. She relies on something beyond physical force to exert her will. I would call it "big pussy energy" (which is also how I would sum up this song), but you probably won't see that definition in a Tarot book.
Regardless of your biological sex or gender identity, we can all tap into that "big pussy energy" - and probably should more often! I hope this song reminds you that you're a goddess or god or non-binary deity in your own right and that no one can take that away from you. Your are worthy of love and respect simply because you exist, not based upon your ability or desire to fit into someone else's box. No one can define your femininity (if that’s a word you connect with) or identity, or tell you what aspects of it you’re entitled to.
Before we close, if you're experiencing similar treatment from a partner to what I described above, know that you do not deserve that, you do not need to tolerate it, and there are resources available to help. I promise you, life afterwards is so much better. You are not alone and you're worthy of love, patience, and kindness. If you or someone you know needs help leaving a situation like this, the National Domestic Violence Hotline is a great place to start.
My general rule for life is rather Pagan: do as thou wilt (with “and it harm none” as the unspoken precedent). But I’ve adopted this one commandment in my relationships, my art, and my music, and I encourage you to consider doing the same whatever your spiritual path might be: Love me as I am or stay lonely in the dark. You are made of celestial fire; don’t accept anyone who would do less than honor that.
Be kind to yourself, to your neighbor, and to the world.
-Melanie