Why Do We Shame Young Girls For Their Music Tastes?

I was 16 when I began dating a music snob. We have all met a music snob. They refuse to listen to your music, viewing their playlists as superior. We shared our favorite artists, blasted their songs in car rides, and bonded over sharing stories of our idols. In short, we both liked music. However, my music tastes differed from the Eddie Vedders and Kurt Cobains of his world. Instead, I found solace in Beyonce, Lana Del Rey, The Cranberries, and Lorde. This was often met with an eye roll. Though he hated my music, I loved seeing women like me on a stage- women who had the same trauma, emotions, and lifestyles as I did: women who sang about falling in love, going to parties, and being sad. I have always believed that the music we listen to reflects what we know and what we have experienced. For a teenage girl, those experiences are ripe with hope for the future. We all seek the thrill of new love, the pangs of heartbreak, and the power of friendship, which Jane Austen described as “the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love”. These are the experiences we want to see reflected in our music. Thus, our music tastes change and evolve with our life experience.

Unfortunately, the music snob in my beau disagreed with my preferences so much that he put them down in writing… for a Women in Music course. His essay, weak in both argument and vocabulary (as well as lacking valid sources), shamed women who enjoyed songs by glamorous feminine artists. These songs and their lyrics, he claimed, encouraged the sexualization of young girls and risky lifestyles. All in all, he concluded his argument by stating, “Sara (my persona in his essay) now suffers from bipolar disorder and PTSD as a result of several incidents in her youth which can in some way be traced back to behaviors she picked up from music she listened to.”

Upon his proud presentation of his essay, to both myself and his parents, I was appalled. I was in disbelief that someone who claimed to love me could boil all my pain and struggle down to the songs I had on my Spotify playlist. I became a case study of horrible music and its connection to my mental illness. However, this incident (and the subsequent breakup) ignited a fire within me to investigate and call out music shaming, especially when it involves women and female artists.

Mary Shelley was a teenager when she wrote Frankenstein, yet her work is not seen as cheesy or classless. When did we begin to associate the experiences and interests of young women with tasteless, worthless pastimes? Looking back, I can cite experiences in elementary school, where the girls all looked up to Hannah Montana and had heart eyes for the Jonas Brothers. The boys would roll their eyes and poke fun at these interests. When I was in middle school, “Directioners” came on the scene and again a music group with a fandom of mostly young girls was eclipsed by male interests.