I saw Beyoncé live! 👑 🐝

Motherhood is the work of a Goddess

Heading to Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter Tour at MetLife!

Hello dears,

In the dead of winter, my identical twin—Dimity—is constantly scheming about things to look forward to.

“Want to go climbing at Red Rocks this spring?”

“Want to go to Italy for a week?”

“Want to go visit our aunt and uncle in Kenya… next winter?”

Her dreams are always alluring (and I’m guilty of doing the same).

So when she called in February, and asked if I wanted to go see Beyoncé near New York City in May, I said (as I usually do), “of course!”

I didn’t really think it would happen. Tickets were a fortune.

But a week later, Dimity discovered that tickets in the nosebleed section of the stadium were affordable.

So she bought two. (And to our great delight, our dear friend Jana Blankenship joined us as well!)

After all, seeing Beyoncé live was sure to be a bucket list experience, right?

It was.

In pop culture, we often dismiss celebrities’ success as mere “luck.” Of course there will always be factors that give certain people a leg up over others, but this narrative is a huge disservice to the artists themselves—and to us.

Whatever level of “success” they’ve attained, they’ve worked hard to achieve it (a reminder for our own desires and pursuits).

While I don’t love the reference to violence, I’m reminded of Theodore Roosevelt’s quote, “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly…”

If you’ve ever picked up an instrument, memorized a song or dance, then you can appreciate the enormous amount of dedication it takes for someone like Beyoncé (and her fellow performers) to memorize every, single, beat of a 3+ hour show for 60,000 people.

And repeat that seven nights in row, before continuing to the next major city.

(Not to mention, the journey that led her here today.)

I’ve always admired Beyoncé as an artist who uses her platform for masterful music, theater, and activism. She is intent on lifting up those around her, and always pays homage to the lineage of black artists and activists who paved the way, as she did in her stunning performance of “Blackbird.”

Whether her musical film Lemonade or her album The Gift, Beyoncé and her creative hive are collectively and singularly focused on making meaning through art.

For example, her latest album and the focal point of this tour, Cowboy Carter, reclaims American patriotism through a Black American lens. Beyoncé’s version of America is f*cking awesome.

And often, the meaning itself IS the art.

• The violinist’s solo, the mind-blowing dance numbers, the stage stunts.

• Riding a golden, mechanical bull while belting the song “Tyrant.”

• The visual art during costume changes.

• The words, flashed across the screen: NEVER ASK PERMISSION FOR SOMETHING THAT ALREADY BELONGS TO YOU.

• Her performance of the Italian opera song, Caro Mio Ben, in rhythm with a magnificent gown that boasted its own light show.

And through it all, Beyoncé has the uncanny ability to own her goddess status.

Unlike many pop icons, she isn’t really trying to be “normal.” She embraces being exquisite. She embodies being a queen.

Even before I’d set foot in the stands—on the subway and the train, herding out from Manhattan to MetLife Stadium—I saw how Beyoncé inspired her fans to express their own queenly status.

There is a shared understanding in her presence…

Don’t play small: SLAY.

She extends this notion to one of the most relatable, overlooked—and yet powerful, miraculous, extraordinary—experiences of humankind: motherhood.

Beyoncé’s very name is her mother’s maiden name.

Celebration of “the mother” runs deep in her family, and she has centered her own motherhood and children in her life.

Two of the most astonishing moments of the show were when:

• Her 13-year old daughter, Blue Ivy, took the stage as dancer, with several mind-bending solos

• Her 7-year old daughter, Rumi, joined both Beyoncé and her big sister for the song “Protector,” for a moment, the three of them embracing.

When the girls left the stage, the screens displayed a montage featuring Beyoncé and her children in seemingly raw, tender home videos.

Dimity, Jana, and I turned to each other with tears streaming down our faces.

Beyoncé’s life, and that of her children, is vastly different from mine. I often wonder—even, balk—at what it must be like for them.

And yet, I love that Beyoncé is including her children in her work. (It seems, at their consent, since I’m assuming her son chose not to go on stage, and her eldest daughter worked hard to memorize—and truly rock—her routines!).

I love that Beyoncé is centering motherhood and family.

I love that Beyoncé is saying: RAISING CHILDREN IS THE WORK OF A GODDESS.

This is the magic still coursing through me.

Was it all fireworks and roses? No.

The sound in our seats was so distorted that sometimes I, embarrassingly, didn’t know what song was playing.

The way home through public transport was long and exhausting.

But it was worth every second of good old-fashioned fun with two of my favorite ladies, to feel the fire burning in my thighs from dancing, and in my heart from remembering to walk my own path with grace and power.

With sleepy smiles,

♡ Emma (and Dimity)

P.S. Stay tuned - Dimity and I are announcing an exciting project very soon!!!