Beyonce & Mr. Knowles: A curse that will be broken.


The internet has announced the birth of Beyonce and Jay Z’s twins on the same day that would have been my father’s birthday and the national holiday where we stop and honor fathers: June 18th.  

However, the hive is abuzz with anger instead of congrats after her father tweeted her birth announcement to the world. Apart of me can’t help but feel some sort of pain for Beyonce and her relationship with her father. Once again Beyonce I don’t know how I can love someone I’ve never met but here you go again, giving new life in the face of day that is for me…complicated.

Beyonce 101:

Let’s start with the backstory and some healthy doses of facts.

All we know, as of now is: Matthew Knowles, has tweeted a seemingly innocent tweet telling the world he is now a proud grandpa. He’s even hashtagged his own daughter’s name #beyonce (forgetting the accent) and then added #twins. I want to believe that he’s just an overly excited grandfather but we’ve been burned by him before. There is evidence to prove his innocence and his guilt with the scales of justice leaning rather heavily towards his guilt.

We know Beyonce has once or twice been vulnerable with the public; opening up about her relationship with her father. In summary: it is complicated, like most father-daughter relationships.

Only its also kind of crazy unique seeing as he managed her and her money till she said nope, I got my own, and decided to separate herself from him professionally. Proving as she has said, to be a time when she did not have her father nor did she get him back, at least not right away.

Beyonce’s public admiration and distrust for her father, a tightrope you can barely see much less walk when you’re as famous as she is, is an art in and of itself. How does she do it? How does she manage that?

My guess: She’s actually a decent human with some flaws. She’s not hiding a dungeon of secrets about her past relationship with her dad, she’s just…private. Wouldn’t you be?

Wouldn’t you be private if at the very end of a glorious moment such as giving birth to two humans you had not one but hundreds of news outlets waiting like sharks at the end of Lake Placid. Ready to snap pictures, moments, details, relatives, balloons, and even your baby Blue’s picture. You would hope at the very least your team wasn’t against you but lo and behold someone from the inside has caused a leak, and its your father? And the hive, rightfully so, wants to know: why?

A woman who has hired people to carefully photograph the artistic essence of what it means to give birth and become a mother. A woman who swam in a pool tying nothing but a long see through yellow piece of fabric with dropped roses at her belly at the bottom of a pool as she looks straight into the camera, eyes wide open underwater, is obviously fearless and BEYONCE. Would she appreciate you leaking her birth announcement on twitter? My guess is 1000 nopes. If you’re her father, wouldn’t you know this?

The answer to me is in my own understanding of having a complicated relationship with my dad.

The 50/50 Split: Women who live with men who live in two houses.

When my dad was living I had this constant 50/50 feeling of utter need to have him by my side during moments of achievement, success and trial and also utter dread if he was there. Would he be “normal” that day? Would he want to talk about himself constantly or just be excited for me? Would he greet me in the hallway after a show with a dozen roses and kiss me (embarrassingly so) till I told him to stop? He loved being the proud father but he didn’t always like being stressed out when I asked for more than something less glamorous.

I don’t know what kind of relationship Beyonce has with her father but it sounds hard. I know after she listened to the lyrics written for “Daddy Lessons” she turned to the songwriters (Wynter Gordon, Kevin Cossom and Alex Delicata) and said “This is my life.” It was probably always split between two houses:

the Dad who held her hand and

the dad who liked his whiskey with his tea.

The dad who made her dance and

The dad who made a soldier out of her.

One house built just for her and another house built just for him. Coming home just in time to warn her: when trouble comes to town and men like me come around: shoot.

If I ever have a daughter I hope she’s never warned by the men in her life, I hope we all do better. And when the day must come when she learns to protect herself, I’ll simply rewrite the lessons for her so she at least starts somewhere different. Because my dad’s story is not really my story, but its apart of me nonetheless. I imagine my rewrite will go something like this:

My daddy played classic vinyl and

he made a soldier out of me…

He always played it cool but he was no fool

And right before he died he said remember:

He said take care of your mother,

watch out for your brother

Oh and that’s when he gave to me,


A pen to touch the page

A mind that can’t forget

A sassy hipped mouth

An easy laugh

A music backdrop

A seeker’s heart

A biker’s legs

A crooked nose

A nervous entry

A sensitive soul

A hard earned joy and

A curse that will be broken:

With you.



Check out more from my page: Grief//Code Blue


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