The summer that I regained my senses and decided that I didn't want to be a lawyer, this was the theme song for me and my girls. Perhaps it is still one of my theme songs.
Probably because I grew up with Janet. And she's only about a month older than I. And she's still one of the hottest women out there. She reminds me that even though I am in my 40s, I can still be hot. Just like Madonna at 50 does. And Susan Sarandon in her 60s. When I hit my 60s, I want legs like Tina, a face like Leena, and the social consciousness of Susan Sarandon.
What we got from that song was that certain kind of swagger. (I had had before the song came out but then lost it along the way. Some bad relationships that made me question myself.) It's the walk of someone who knows that they own whatever place into which they are walking.
Sure the song is about some guy but it could be so many other things. Like that job you really want. Because somewhere along the way I learned how to put on the mask. How to act utterly confident even though my knees were knocking. (In days of old, the knee thing would be a figurative thing since they were in plain view due to my really short skirts.)
To me the song became about claiming the things that you wanted out of life. And not being afraid to say it -- even if in veiled references. Because let's get real. Sometimes if you state your true intentions, there are others who are more than ready to step in your way.
Oh, and to make things clear, I have never purposefully taken some other woman's man. In the early days of my college years, guys would ask me out and I would accept. I would then learn that these guys had girlfriends. I would drop them as quick as possible. I had this silly idea that if a guy left his girlfriend for me, he would do the same to me when the next new thing turned his head. I may look like a tramp at times but I have always had principles.
Might have something to do with having divorced parents and having huge trust issues as a result. * It might have something to do with having an uncle who's a dawg with a capital D. I don't think he's ever been faithful in any of his relationships. I know because for years I was his confidante. (My mother has always had huge issues with this. Imagine that? The queen of no boundaries calling someone out over the same thing.) He told me that I should avoid men like him at all costs. (He's also one of the other sick people in my life. At first they thought that he was rejecting his kidney transplant but now they're not sure. Because even folks on my mom's side of the family get sick. And he's 54. I hope they get it all straightened out because I'm not ready to let go of my Uncle Juju yet.)
All I know is that this is one of the songs that I play when I am starting to doubt myself. It makes me feel like I can do anything. As opposed to the song that shares its title with this post. That song just makes me feel weepy and shit. So I'm probably going to be playing this song for many weeks to come. So that I can find my way back. Crap. Now I have a whole other song going through my head. Great.
* Trust is a funny thing. When I write stuff here, I realize that there is a certain level of trust. Perhaps the semi-anonymity allows me to say the things that I otherwise wouldn't. Thus my anxiety in meeting folks from the blogging world. I am the queen of compartmentalization -- except here. I compartmentalize stuff to protect myself emotionally. So for those of you who have met me as a result of this blog, I'd like to tell you that it is a very hard thing for me. It's why none of my friends outside of the blogosphere or my family knows how to find this. Because some of them would use this all against me.