Before departing for the holiday break at the completion of last semester, I felt a bit stagnant. I half-heartedly looked forward to days spent at home wallowing in bed and spending some intimate time with my significant other, Netflix. While the idea of some much-needed rest was enticing, I was by no means thrilled. Then out of the blue, a miracle to surpass all miracles occurred. Without any warning, Beyonce (my spirit animal, the coal that fuels the train that is my day-to-day life) released a new album, essentially turning the remaining weeks of my break into a poorly choreographed music video starring yours truly.  
   Through the recent release of her self-titled album, Queen Bey provided her fan base with a blend of sexy, high-energy tunes, emotionally fueled ballads about her life, loves and career and, more specifically, the struggles of finding self confidence in our society, so notorious for perpetuating negative body image. One song that immediately grabbed my attention falls into the latter category.
   With its catchy chorus and a beat so powerful that doctors have confirmed it may cause involuntary dance convulsions, the song “Flawless” is quintessential Beyonce. The song’s lyrics include this repeated mantra:
   “Ladies, tell him, ‘I woke up like this, I woke up like this’ — flawless.”
   The song also includes a fairly long excerpt from a powerful speech entitled “We Should All Be Feminists” by Nigerian author and activist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Adichie is quoted in the song saying:
   “We teach girls to shrink themselves, to make themselves smaller. We say to girls, ‘You can have ambition, but not too much. You should aim to be successful, but not too successful, otherwise you will threaten the man.’ … We raise girls to think of each other as competitors, not for jobs or for accomplishments, which I think can be a good thing, but for the attention of men. Feminist: the person who believes in the social, political and economic equality of the sexes.”
     While these lyrics scream girl power from the top of their lungs, I feel this song holds a glaring inconsistency. I understand Beyonce promotes the independent style of confidence that comes from accepting oneself, confidence separate from the opinion of others, confidence that does not require verbal affirmation.     
     However, I feel that proclaiming oneself to be “flawless” is not only unhealthy (and a little sociopathic), but that it does not align with the doctrine being taught in Adichie’s quotation.
    Adichie urges her audience to strive for social equality between men and women, and I feel that, while society does require a lot from its male inhabitants, it does not require physical perfection. In many of today’s movies, books and television programs, women are taught to accept men as they are and then either fix them or adapt. Men are seen as multidimensional; the man on the TV show may not be physically fit, but he is kind, funny and financially stable, therefore he is desirable. The guy in the tween romance novel may be spiteful and arrogant, but he’s athletic and you can count his abdominal muscles through his shirt, so you make it work.
    I am in no way condoning this kind of shallow acceptance, but I do think that it is important to see the inconsistency between the forgiveness of male flaws and the requirement of female perfection.
While Beyonce’s message is empowering, my version of the song would read as follows:
   “I woke up like this. I’m not perfect, but I don’t mind that I’m flawed a work in constant progress. You’re not perfect either, but I’m cool with it. Now, hold on while I brush my teeth.”
    Granted, this version may not turn platinum, but it would certainly be a more realistic depiction of the healthy understanding that I wish existed between men and women: Neither of us are perfect, but we’re both pretty great.