Calling Out Ingrid

I went running on Monday afternoon. When I'm running, I try to not think at all about how many miles I have in front of me, so as not to psych myself out of going the distance. I do this by thinking of something random and really dissecting it till I just forget that I'm running altogether. The subject this time was extremely random, as usual: The lyrics of an indie-pop (yes that's a genre) song by Ingrid Michaelson called "The Way I am." Before I went on my Monday run, I really liked the song. Catchy and mellow, sweet and soft, it would come on from time-to-time on the RyPod. But as I began really thinking about it, an evil truth was revealed.

The focal point of this song is that Ingrid's kool-aid accepts her as she is and that's vital to her love for him. "You take me the way I am." Lovely sentiment, for sure. The problem comes in the third verse when the song-writer exposes that she may not actually reciprocate that feeling specifically. "I'll buy you rogaine, if you start losing all your hair, sew on patches, to all you tear." Really Ingrid? Really?

Here's this man that you're writing a love song for, and the chorus, and the most important line of the entire ballad, is that he takes you for who you are. Follow that up with a verse that says you'll help him change who he is, to fit the image of who you want him to be. Why don't you take him for who he is--a guy with some holes in his clothes who may bald at some point down the road--since he did the same with you. I mean that's the entire purpose of the song, and it's copletelely negated within its own structure.

You should know that I take umbrage with this on a personal level also, adding fuel to this blogfire. First off, I have certain clothes with holes in them, not many mind you, but there are some items I believe have character, and I don't want to get rid of them. Nor do I want my squeeze to sew patches on them. I think it's really sweet that you'd be willing to do that, but unless I ask for it, back off broad! Secondly, I'm getting thin up top. I'm not a fan of it, but hey, you can't exactly control the genes you're born with. If I want to take action to control it, that ball's in my court. But please, I'm not settling for someone who needs hair on my head, especially if they're writing songs about how they love me because I accept them for who they are. Similarly, I've always said that I don't try to stay in good shape for anyone else. I do it because it gives me a boost, makes me feel better on a daily basis, which translates to improvements in various other aspects of life. That said, I'm not going to bend to the shallow demands of someone else. Why? Because as Ingrid says they should, "take me the way I am."

The song just seems like a contradiction in terms for me now, which is frustrating in a way because I did at one point enjoy it. Now I'm in the awkward "Rage Against the Machine Zone" which is when you love a tune and hate the lyrics/message of the piece.

Not quite as awkward as the, "oh crap, my Mom reads my blog zone", but that's a tale for another day. Moral of the current day's story: Never trust a cutie pie, especially one who poses with an apple on her head.