As someone born and raised in Pittsburgh, football is central to the culture of the city. People put their newborn infants on the waitlist for Steelers season tickets because the wait can be up to FIFTY years, with the average time of scoring seats at about 25-ish years. That’s commitment. I have been invited to a few games but never actually gone. There is basically nothing in the world I am willing to stand in the freezing cold and blowing snow for several hours to watch; especially if I can see the same thing from a toasty warm couch in a place with no bathroom line. I do have some fond memories of watching games, and like any kid who grew up in Pittsburgh between the 70s and early 2000s, the voice of Myron Cope is forever burned into my brain. Yoi!! Does all of this make me a football fan? It does not.

On my very first date* with my husband he told me that he only watched College football. I was exceptionally happy to hear this. I can handle one day a week involving sportsball but the constant drone of announcers from Thursday night to Monday night is not a thing I am willing to tolerate. He has stayed true to this and I now know more about Cal football than I ever wanted to. Note. I never wanted to know anything about Cal football.

My Pittsburgh roots also mean that I  am legally required to not like the city of Philadelphia. I don’t even know why. Maybe it’s how they pronounce the word water (woodur), maybe it’s our competing sandwiches (Primantis vs. Cheese steak), maybe we are just jealous we don’t have Wawa. It doesn’t matter. It just means that any time the Eagles play I must root against them out of spite and Superb Owl LVII was no exception. But let me be truly honest. I had very little interest in the game and my malice was half-hearted because my focus, per usual, was on halftime.  The Super Bowl halftime show is a spectacle in the best sort of way. It’s over the top, there is usually a sea of choreographed dancers, the outfits are bonkers, and there are surprise guests. What’s not to love?! The 2020 show with Shakira and JLo was one of my favorites. Not only did they absolutely kill it but Bad Bunny and JBalvin joined the show. It was fantastic and it happened right before we knew what Covid was. What a time. 

I understand that no halftime show will appeal to everyone, but something about women taking the stage really brings out the trolls. You will be shocked to hear that many people did not like this incredible performance by two talented, Latina women. Jk. Of course you aren’t shocked. The FCC received over a thousand complaints about the performance. Here are just a few of them:

  • It was not suitable for children

  • The costumes were too small

  • Dance moves were suggestive 

  • There was gyrating 

  • A stripper pole!!

  • Sexy tongue wagging

  • Butt shaking: From JLo and Shakira?!?!?! Say it isn’t so! These complaints were clearly from people with very little idea of who these women are. 

I firmly believe that if Shakira wants to belly dance in a crop top and JLo wants to work a pole in little more than sequins, they should 100% do that. Unfortunately, many people disagree with my particular brand of “let other people do whatever the hell they want and mind your business.” The groups spewing their (misguided) rage may change depending on the performers and you can fill in your own descriptors of who they may be. I see them as puritanical egocentrics. These are people who believe that their take on how we “should” behave is the ONLY acceptable way of doing so. Anyone who disagrees with their approach to life is wrong and morally corrupt. Maybe these reactions are all just further highlighting the divide between those who believe in women being able to choose what they do with their bodies and those who think our lady brains explode when presented with options. But who made them the arbiters of morality and why don’t they just change the channel? Why must they yuck everyone else’s yum? And what, pray tell, would an “acceptable” halftime show look like to these groups?

I have some guesses and none of them are  Rihanna’s performance on Sunday! Thankfully, she kept alive the time honored tradition of people having a lot of problems with the halftime show going (not that I was worried). There were accusations of lip synching, hissy fits over there not being a surprise guest, condemnation of her lack of dancing, and general foot stomping by people who, from what I can tell, have never performed a Super Bowl halftime show themselves. Let’s not pretend these criticisms aren’t really rooted in sexism, racism, and a bit of good old fashioned jealousy. I find all of these complaints ridiculous because what I saw was a pregnant, billionaire, from Barbados hovering in the goddamn sky, singing a to a set list of hit after hit. Oh, and she stopped mid-performance to check her makeup and rep her brand. ICONIC. The fact that she opened with “Bitch Better Have My Money” made me love her even more since this is a personal favorite and was the first song I dropped on the Tightroping Spotify playlist. Here is the rest of her set:

  • Where Have You Been?

  • Only Girl in the World

  • We Found Love

  • Rude Boy

  • Work: If we turned this video on when Leo was a baby he would stop whatever he was doing to watch

  • Wild Thoughts

  • Pour It Up

  • All of the Lights

  • Run This Town

  • Umbrella: If you have not seen Tom Holland perform this in Lip Synch Battle you must watch it immediately 

  • Diamonds

Though sad she did not do Pon de Replay, a song I listened to on the original iPod Shuffle, she offered a bevy of bangers. We have not seen Rihanna perform live since the 2018 Grammys because she has been busy creating her inclusive and award winning skincare/makeup and lingerie lines, and a person (born in May 2022). This performance was hugely anticipated and the one thing that really surprised everyone (judging from the trending searches) was her pregnancy reveal; making her the first person to perform the halftime show while pregnant. Can we just pause here for a moment to appreciate this? If you have been pregnant before you understand what a big deal this is. She is nine months postpartum and is likely just coming out of her first trimester. I had trouble sitting up fast without wanting to barf at that time. 

Some of the loudest criticisms of Rihanna, Shakira, and JLo after their Super Bowl performances (aside from those already mentioned) revolved around the fact that these women are all mothers. How dare they look sexy, be comfortable in their bodies, and wear something that isn’t a burlap sack? The amount of bullshit ideas surrounding motherhood and what it should look like are something I find infuriating (especially when men are sharing them). I am not a different person because I have a child. Yes, I have different responsibilities and priorities. Yes, I often spend Saturday afternoons at parks to celebrate the birthdays of children I do not know. Yes, I say things like “turd burger” instead of what I want to actually say. But I am still inherently, fundamentally, me. I can only speak from my own experience but I did not become a different person after having Leo and that lack of a shift has been one of my biggest struggles as a mom.**

I didn’t have Leo until I was thirty-eight and by that time you have a pretty good idea about who you are as a person. By then I had my PhD, had just gotten tenure, and my career trajectory was essentially set. I worked a lot and I loved it (aside from the grading). Adding a kid into the mix was not an easy transition for me. I loved being productive and getting things done (thanks to #therapy I now realize that was a whole separate thing I had to conquer) but babies do not care what you think you need to do. They need you when they need you so what I realized early on is that being a mom with a career leaves you in a constant state of guilt. If you are doing well at work you feel like you are neglecting your child and vice versa. We put Leo in daycare when he was nine months old. Before he had a spot I couldn’t wait to get that call that his space was open. I would be able to work and he would get to socialize with other babies. Win/win. Except when he did get the space I felt like a complete failure as a mom because I wasn’t back to work full time and could still have him at home and I was now missing time with him I would never get back. Tears and frustration in both scenarios. 

Being a working mom is basically some version of this guilt at all times. I often think of a quote from the book Forget Having it All: How America Messed Up Motherhood and How To Fix It that rang true to me and many of the working moms I know: We expect women to work like they don't have children, and raise children as if they don't work. We can’t do that and we don’t want to do that because it breaks us. The unrelenting pressure we put on ourselves, the bonus pressure from society, and the difference in expectations for fathers and mothers is exhausting. Underneath all of that exhaustion is a mom, yes, but also a woman who likes things in life that have nothing to do with being a mom. A woman who was a person before she was a mom. Who has an identity and goals that may not actually be linked to her child(ren) at all. A woman who, god forbid, may still want to feel sexy. So pretending that motherhood is the only remarkable thing about us is insulting and it makes me realize just how much we are no longer seen as complete humans. But  if all we are as people is wrapped up in motherhood what happens when our kids are grown? What is there for us? I don’t know and I don’t plan on finding out. I am going to keep doing my job and having interests beyond my son and I think he will be all the better for it. Kids who see their moms happy and thriving learn from that (no matter what their mom does). I’m going to guess that the kids of insanely famous women like JLo, Shakira, and Rihanna  are pretty happy their moms are such forces but so are the rest of us. We may not be globally recognized superstars but we still deserve to do whatever the hell we want without having to hear a running commentary on our choices from strangers. Next time someone is talking shit to you about the choices you are making as a mother, as a woman, or just a person in general, I suggest you hear it in Myron Cope’s voice. You can’t take anything (besides football) seriously with that and you will feel better. Maybe even get yourself a Terrible Towel to wave at them as a distraction.

*I insist it was a date. He believes it was a screening process. Either way it seems to have worked out. 

**Some of the others being: having someone barf into my shirt, the diaper after I gave him beet juice, sneezes directly into my mouth, and the crippling cost of child care. 

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