Chronicles of a Songstress #4: "I Confess" (2013)
Back when I was a kid in Catholic school, I used to jot down all of my sins as I committed them so I would be in the clear after we went to confession on Fridays. My lists consisted of things like hitting my sister, stealing a piece of gum from the corner store, saying “damn”... stuff like that.
In my blossoming brain, I really believed that if I died before being cleared of these things, it was down to fiery hell I go— or if I’m lucky, purgatory, which in my head was one never-ending game of gin rummy with my grandmother and her girlfriends.
As I got older, going to confession was no longer mandatory, and ironically, my sins and self-destructive behavior increased. The list extended to things like smoking weed, drinking, and gossiping. The big humdinger for me, however, was the way in which I lost my virginity.
It was the late 90s and pills were just coming onto the scene in the suburbs of New York. Xanax became increasingly popular in those parts and I learned the hard way that when you mix it with booze, you pretty much black out. I was hanging with some friends, drinking beers as per usual, and without much question I washed a pill back. I was devastated to wake up in a hazed stupor and find that I had slept with my best friend. In a flash, I had given something so sacred away that I had been holding onto for the “right person.”
To me, this was not confession worthy.
I was 19.
I was also now damaged, sinful, and screwed. For a long time I lived believing these things, and I acted out accordingly.
Writing my song “I Confess” gave that 19-year-old girl a voice and opportunity to stand up for herself. Growing up, I watched boys and men be rewarded and praised for their sexual actions, whereas girls and women were derogated and stigmatized for similar behaviors. In “I Confess” she calls out that double standard. In a way she says, “this is who I am. I’m not perfect. I’m confused, scared and angry. That doesn’t mean I’m not deserving of love and honorability.”