Rihanna, my dear. You’re… I can’t…AUGH.
There are so many things I want to say to Rihanna. In my eyes, she has a lot to answer for. Yes, okay, she was the victim of domestic abuse. And no, she isn’t obligated to become the poster-victim for the whole thing. But I feel like she’s at least obligated not to have songs about how PAIN GETS HER PUSSY WET. It’s like a retroactive statement, “No, hey, guys, really! It’s okay! Yes, Chris Brown hit me and it was very wrong of him but TO BE FAIR, I immediately had multiple orgasms. Dude knows how to use a fist.”
Yes, I do know that it’s just a song and that singing about something doesn’t necessarily become you as a person, unless you’re a stalker like Sting. To be fair on Rihanna, there’s a fine line between enjoying S&M as a sexual practice consensually and being hit non-consensually. But it just feels like a terribly unfortunate coincidence, if nothing else.