Seeing Aretha Franklin live in concert is something that few would be able to forget. As for me, that experience would turn into something so much more than unforgettable.
I saw her when I was 13, at an ice skating show in Chicago. At that time, the premonition of transitioning from playing sports to focusing on singing and performance began creeping into my mind, right along with insecurities about my body.
I wasn't obese by any standards, but I certainly wasn't skinny. I could afford to lose a few, and the other girls in my middle school made sure to let me know that, as middle school girls so often do. After one too many backhanded comments, it started to affect me. I felt like I couldn't eat around my friends, or if I did, it would have to be only healthy foods. All of my friends were skinny, and I wanted to be just like them.
Then that night in Chicago, I saw her. Aretha Louise Franklin stepped out onto that ice rink, wearing a beautiful gold gown that was covered in sparkles. You almost had to avert your eyes since she was shining so bright, but no one could look away from her. She was glowing, both literally and figuratively.
I didn't know much about her at that time besides what I knew from playing Dance Dance Revolution to the tune of "R-E-S-P-E-C-T" with my brothers, and hearing her songs being covered by my favorite TV show at the time, "Glee."
But I, like everyone else, knew that that lady could sing. And I also knew that she did not look like most singers. Unless you live under a rock, you know that Aretha was also not a skinny girl. She was, in her words, "a natural woman," and she knew it. She spoke and sang with a sort of confidence that said, "You can either take me as I am or not at all."
At that moment when I saw her step out on the rink and begin singing, something became clear to me. Aretha Franklin showed me that there was nothing wrong with being confident in the way you look, even if you aren't perfect according to societal standards. She also showed me that being perfect is bullshit. I didn't need to look like every other girl around me, as long as I was confident in who I was and in what my voice could do.
She was truly a role model for every performer who ever looked in the mirror and grabbed the rolls of fat that hung off of their stomach or thighs. Because of her, we know that performers who starve themselves to fit into a size zero will never be able to sing with the type of soul and power she had until they learn to love every inch of themselves.
So thank you, Aretha, for showing that chubby Minnesotan tween that talent can only be found within yourself, and that no amount of diets or juice cleanses will ever be able to find it for you.
You were an inspiration to us all, and I thank you for not only sharing your talents but also your full, unhindered, confident, beautiful self.
You will be deeply missed.