We’re back in the late 80s for this one, 1988 to be precise and Metallica’s … And Justice for All release.
This came out at a time in my life where there was a lot of internal chaos, not that anyone would know that to look at me. Eye of the Beholder is all about the lack of freedoms, government control, freedom of speech, and the fact that we all think that we’re ok… Just ever so slightly prophetic some 38 years later! Oh, and it’s also the last Metallica album that I really liked. The black album was ok, but I am an old-school Metallica fan, from before the world and his mother realised they liked them!
But how is this track and album relevant to me back then?
It was about the time that my mental health started to take a slide down a slippery slope, and when I probably felt at my most at odds with who I was. Fifteen year old Sarah had a lot of shit back then. Some of it has never really been spoken about outside of the safety net of a therapy session.
The reason I chose this track was because of something that happened recently, which had the capacity to plunge me back into the dark days of 1988. I am not going to set out all the scene of back then, because there are parts of my story that I am still not prepared to talk about here (though I am sure I will soon)
But imagine me, 15 years old. At an all-girls grammar school (which totally rubs up against my working-class Yorkshire woman roots), being told by the people that are supposed to have my back that I am never going to make anything of myself, that I am not beautiful, that I am not intelligent enough, I am too much to handle, etc etc. You get the picture.
Let’s be honest, I was never going to be beautiful, and that is ok.
I had major surgery on a skull deformity at 12 weeks old. That doesn’t really make for you looking like a ‘Traditional Beauty’, does it? I also had glasses, ginger hair and was bloody left-handed. I also didn’t really like a lot of the 80s fashions, so basically lived my life in black skinny jeans, a biker jacket and a Slayer tee… I wasn’t made to fit in.
Being an outsider was both a blessing and a curse.
A curse, in that when I was in my darkest days, I felt so very alone; but then also that solitude gave me more resilience than I could ever imagine at the time. My only comfort was, and still is, music. Master of Puppets had been one hell of a listen for me in the late 80s; certain tracks really tapped into my mental state at the time, Sanitarium, anyone?
This felt different.
There were a lot of tricky time signatures in this, which made it feel like an uneasy listen, and listening to it now, you get the sense of frustration and anger in Hetfield’s voice sometimes… Apparently, they rarely (if ever now) play Eye of the Beholder, mainly because of that very jarring nature. The anger in this album against the system really sparked something in me, which is still with me today.
Anyways, back to the plot…
Why is this track in my head now?
Well, it’s partly for the title.
I got some shit on Twitter (still not X in this house) this week; someone basically told me I had an ugly man face, which was nice of him… It wasn’t really the words that stung, if I am honest. I have had a LOT of therapy around what happened to me both around my operation, and also what happened in the late 80s, and I am good with some of how I look. It was more that he felt it was acceptable to say that in a public forum.
But it’s also about freedom of speech and when that tips over into abusive behaviour.
It’s something that I care about a lot, but recently, across the world, it seems that people have become increasingly emboldened to insult someone. Ironically, he was fawning like fucking hell a few weeks back.
I am not the only one who gets this. In some respects, I am surprised I get this, because I am not a good-looking woman, nor do I want to be that pretty, highly manicured creature. It doesn’t fit with who I am. And, sadly, most of the women I have seen get this sort of behaviour hurled at them are really attractive.
But what does piss me off is that now some men feel it’s their God-given right to express their inadequacies and vulnerabilities in a way that belittles the women they are craving a connection with.
And that’s the thing. This really isn’t about me. This is about the person behind the profile.
I don’t need him to validate me. I don’t need his adoration. I didn’t interact with him, and that is probably what hurt him ultimately. He didn’t get what he wanted.
That thought made me think of these lyrics…
Doesn’t matter what you see
Or into it what you read
You can do it your own way
If it’s done just how I say
Because as someone born into the female gender, it really doesn’t matter what I do; it will never be enough for some people. I will never be pretty enough, thin enough, intelligent enough or even attractive enough. And that is fine, because my body count is fairly healthy, so someone out there likes me, right?
So if you’re reading this, thinking about applying for the role of my tormentor, then you need to know you need to try so much harder to break me these days. People got there before you and went further than anyone could go now. They were people who I should have been safe with, not strangers. They tried to break me, shape me in their own image.
They failed…
Oh, and the image. It amuses me endlessly that justice is depicted as a woman, because isn’t that just a massive kick in the balls (and also fitting for the album that inspired this post)?
