How Mitski Captures the Struggle of Finding an Identity Outside of Male Validation
Male validation is a prevalent subject in modern society, especially for young women. Throughout her discography, Mitski offers a soul-barring portrayal of how this quest for approval can take a toll on one’s emotional psyche and doesn’t hold back in the slightest.
Written by Sydney Meier
Illustrated by Izabella Padilla
Historically, a patriarchal system has shaped women’s identity and physical appearance. They are told worldly existence is meaningless without the approval of a man whether that be her father, brother, or husband. This sentiment has followed women even into 2022 because of how easy it is to sexualize yourself at such a young age. It is portrayed as empowerment, but objectifying one’s self at a young age can cause irreparable damage to a person’s self-esteem. Men have birthed societal standards from the beginning of time so it feels as though the only way to cure the void dug by self-esteem issues is through validation from those who created the standards. You are allowed to let out a brief sigh of relief because you have been given a pass to take up space for at least a little while.
Across her discography, singer-songwriter Mitski delivers songs about the difficulty of being a woman trying to find value outside male validation. Low self-esteem is dominant among Mitski’s protagonists and this esteem issue is cured through an expression of worth from a man in their life, whether that be through verbal praise of her physical appearance or sexual relationships. In these songs, the man’s identity is never relevant, but his significance lies in the fact that he is a man who allows her to exist. Although the concept is heavily discussed within her lyrics, Mitski does not glorify this addiction to validation. Instead, there is always an inherent sadness and desperation in these women. They don't know who they are or what their value is outside of male acceptance.
Mitski’s 2012 song “Real Men” is a dissection of male and female societal expectations. Through the eyes of the singer, real men must emotionally suffocate themselves in silence because they “Keep cool in the face of a fire / Go down with the ship.” Real men are entirely self-reliant, they “don’t need other people” and they “Don’t eat, ‘cause they’re above that, damn it.” Admitting they need other people or things to survive is a weakness, a vulnerability waiting to be exploited. The female narrator begs for approval from the men in her society, singing: “So you can look me up and down / And tell me ‘Well-done girl you're looking good!’” The man is addressed as “sir” because his existence bears weight to the singer, so he is managed as a singular being. In contrast, Mitski addresses the immature “little boys” as a group because their attention does not hold comparable value to that of “sir”. “Real Men” exhibits patriarchal standards that are set up to oppress both men and women. Each constantly seeks validation from men they admire.
“I Don’t Smoke” likens Mitski’s anguished love for an abusive man to that of a cigarette addiction. The void she feels without him can be equated to that of quitting an addictive substance or action. To keep her void filled, she needs him in her life, so she tells him “If you need to be mean / Be mean to me / I can take it and put it inside of me.” Even if she has to exist as his punching bag, she is still in his life and he is in hers. She yearns for him and his acknowledgment so profoundly that she will take his emotional burdens and bear them with a smile. So long as he doesn't leave her “alone wondering where you are”, she can endure his trauma because in Mitski’s own words “I am stronger than you give me credit for”. She will take his pain and make it her own for as long as he needs to make him stay.
“Square” shares the perspective of Mitski lying awake in a man’s bed after having sex. She is looking around his room wondering, “What space would I take / In the order you kept.” Mitski thinks of herself as an object to be ornamented in his life rather than a person allowed to exist in his world. She tries to mold into what she believes he wants in a partner stating “I tried to eat like your girlfriend / Just tea in the night” with the hope that he will deem her worthy of pursuing a relationship. Mitski and the man are involved in an exclusively sexual relationship, but she has a futile hope they will eventually transition to a committed relationship. As the music swells in the transition from the third to the fourth verse, Mitski gives in to her desire for him to be hers. However, this longing dissipates when she forces herself to realize what he has known all along, that he will never commit to her, because in her own words “Never once did you know me.” Eventually, Mitski surrenders her purposeless fight for the man’s love for the reason that “God’s very simple and love doesn’t burn.” Even if the man she burns for eventually gave her everything she wanted, love in her eyes is not something given but something earned.
Throughout “Thursday Girl,” Mitski gives a sense of being a woman participating in hookup culture to fill a void left by a lack of self-worth. At night, the deepest, truest part of herself is set free as she recites “Glory… / To the night that shows me what I am,” giving thanks to what gives her life. The woman goes to parties seeking physical validation from men while “On [her] knees / Saying take it / Oh please” to feel something, anything, but she soon realizes that feeling is objectification. The chorus repeats the lyrics “Tell me no / Tell me no / Tell me no / Somebody please tell me no” to portray her mental spiral because she cannot restrain herself. She is begging her sexual partner of the night to see her as a person worth more than physical gratification to be used and discarded. The woman is “Not happy or sad, just up or down / And always bad” scouring for some sort of value in other people because she cannot find it within herself. “Thursday Girl” ends with the same repetition of the phrase “tell me no,” as she once again miserably pleads for someone to stop her from falling into her same self-destructive habits.
A common theme in these songs is Mitski’s portrayals of women who believe, as in the wise words of Fleabag, “My body, as it is now, really is the only thing I have left and when that gets old and unfuckable I may as well just kill it.” Mitski’s female protagonists force themselves to relinquish their entire being to the men around them. Whether that be through carrying their partner's emotional baggage or offering their body for sexual satisfaction. These women are clay ready to be molded into whatever their partner wants or needs, yet they are simultaneously unbreakable because they do not hold any shape of their own choosing.