The girl-woman singer died in her flat, alone in bed. Too many people said, "It was to be expected," because we knew this girl who was a woman was really a girl. We knew she had problems, and she did not have the luxury the rest of us do to handle our problems privately, with dignity. She was a mess. So what? We are all stinking messes, every last one of us, or we once were messes and found our way out, or we are trying to find our way out of a mess, scratching, reaching.
In her essay, Roxane Gay reflects on the tragic death of a talented young singer who struggled with numerous personal issues. The attention surrounding her death reveals society's tendency to expect such outcomes for individuals who are visibly struggling. Despite her fame, the singer lived with her challenges in the public eye, robbed of the anonymity that could have offered her some dignity in facing her difficulties.
Gay emphasizes that everyone has their battles, regardless of their external circumstances. The notion that we can judge or dismiss someone because of their messiness fails to recognize that we all have our own complexities. By acknowledging the shared human experience of struggle, Gay calls for empathy and understanding rather than harsh judgment in the face of someone else's turmoil.
