There are two reasons for this. One is obvious and you may have already guessed at it. The other, perhaps less so but I’ll get to it below—
As to the first reason, if you’re a mom of small kids, and not savvy enough to create a Spotify account specifically for them (a trick I learned from my friend
), Spotify wrapped season can be a bit of a holiday downer.There are some of us that really savor the subtle feeling of superiority that comes with having an exquisitely eclectic and cerebral “Wrapped.” A “Wrapped” that says: I’m a thorough and discriminating music consumer. My tastes span genres, genders and decades, and intersect very little with the silly, vapid music of the masses.
Some of us may have also been hipsters in 2012.
However, some of us may have since hung up our hipster hats, and now have to coax small children into the car to go to school in the morning.
What is millennial parenting after all but a series of bribes. Auditory and otherwise.
Now to be fair, do I love TSwift? Of course I do.
But not this song. This song screams 4-year-old birthday dance party at the local bounce and slide. As a mother who rages against the trope of letting motherhood consume her, its not an image I want to connect to myself or cultivate.
Oh, my fragile ego.
But it’s fine, I’m fine. What is there to do about it except for exactly what the song tells me to do in it’s title.
…Or alternately, I can just “let it go.”
However, there is another even more embarrassing reason in which to not share my Wrapped.
See if you can spot it.
I’m on my own damn list, you guys. And I’m ashamed of it because I’m afraid others will think that it means that I actually like my own music. Like, that I actually think that I’m any good.
For someone who grew up around women who often expressed disdain towards other women with remarks like “well she seems awfully pleased with herself,” and “she needs to get off her high horse,” I’ve been strongly conditioned with the messaging that I should diminish my opinions of myself and my accomplishments lest I be likewise treated with disdain.
I know I can’t be the only one for whom this is so.
But the truth is, I click to play my own songs anytime something happens with one of them.
When submitting my song to a playlist—let me just listen real quick to make sure I still think it sounds okay.
When it gets picked up by a playlist—let me just check that I don’t hate what I sound like today.
When somebody asked me about it— let me just click on it real quick to make sure I still think its halfway decent before I get back to them about it.
I don’t know why but I feel a frequent need to reassess my own creations for quality control.
It’s like how you read an email back before you send it, and then read it back multiple times even after you sent it. Just to make sure you’re still okay with what you sent.
I don’t know why humans do this. I don’t know why I do this, but I do and thats why I’m my #4 top artist—just barely trailing “that” mouse and the Fall Out Boy guy who sings all the soundtrack songs from Spidey and His Amazing Friends.
So its not like I “like” myself that much okay, guys.
Somedays, when I feel good, I’m pleased with what I hear. Other days, often when I’m already struggling with self-worth, listening to myself just adds more floats to the hate parade.
And on those days, to counteract those feelings, well…that’s where Beyonce comes in.