Britney Spears, queen of the American dream gone sour, twirling in her underwear to Christina Aguilera’s “I Am”, bared lay on Instagram for the world to see. Her makeup smudged around her eyes in a way that feels both unintentional and deliberate, her hands lifting her breasts, tracing movements from two decades ago, spinning in lazy, unsteady circles like a toddler princess drunk on Kool-Aid and bad choices. The song croons:
“Love me or leave me / Just take it or leave it / It’s not that I’m needy / Just need you to see me.”
And here she is, daring us to take it or leave it. Britney Spears, a defiant middle finger to propriety. Who can blame her? What’s left to lose when you’ve been stripped of everything, dissected under a spotlight since puberty, and tossed around like a hot potato between fame, family, and the wolves of public opinion?
While I won’t claim to interpret Britney’s intent or the energies behind her videos, one message feels clear: “I am going to do whatever the hell I want, and you can take it or leave it.” And truly, who could blame her—or any woman—who’s gone over the edge of “appropriate social behavior” and decided never to look back?
Britney Spears is, to me, the living embodiment of our culture’s fixation on the Madonna/whore complex. She was once the virginal fantasy—fetishized as the perfect good girl, a paradoxical sexualized innocence sold to the masses. And yet, she was admonished for embodying this very image, as though it was something she created for herself rather than a script handed down by men who profited from her every move.
Now, the circus rages on, and Britney spins at its center. We watch her unravel, equal parts fascination and disgust. Mock her, pity her, dissect her every move. The so called, empathetic narrative screaming: “Poor Britney, she’s been through so much.” Or worse, scoff at her for daring to exist in her own chaos.
Some of us capable of admitting that we collectively created this wrathful deity we’re so fixated on, and even now, we continue to feed on her unraveling. Perhaps the #FreeBritney crowd was onto something, but even they struggle with the paradox: Britney needs protection, but she also needs agency. She needs the freedom to make her own choices, even if those choices expose her to harm. As the debates over her conservatorship showed us, the legal system rarely intervenes to prevent self-destruction unless there’s an immediate and undeniable threat. In recent years as Britney has “unraveled” on Instagram, the public now questions whether her conservatorship was in fact necessary. Because clearly, her rebuking the status quo of acceptable behavior means her life shouldn’t be her own. Act "normal" or pay the price.
So, what’s really happening here? Is Britney spinning out on energy drinks, sleepless nights, and manic videos that some say belongs on OnlyFans? Maybe. But does it even matter? Other than the harm she might be causing herself, her actions aren’t hurting anyone else.
But perhaps the real issue is that Britney is no longer the Madonna. She’s become the whore, and the world can’t stand it. We glorify sexuality when it’s demure and innocent, but when a woman wields her sexual power overtly, she becomes taboo, threatening, Lilith incarnate-she wants to ride on top and now she is EXILED. Her chthonic glare, the emptiness in her eyes and voice, provocative and threatening at the same time. Britney has been exiled and, also Othered, the way all sexually explicit women become, and it has hollowed her out. Society has always feared the sexually explicit woman, worried she’ll corrupt husbands, taint children, or simply exist beyond their control. Meanwhile, sexually sophisticated men are idolized proof of a double standard that’s as old as time. Men, they’re heroes, playboys, icons. Women? They’re sluts, cautionary tales.
Our collective views on overt female sexuality still seem to be stuck in the shadows of the Victorian Era. Take, for instance, the recent stories I’ve been following about women on OnlyFans who have taken on “challenges” to sleep with 100, even 1,000 men in a single day. The world responds with disgust, shock, and outrage. On a Vice article about the topic, Facebook comments piled up—hundreds of them, filled with judgment and derogatory remarks. In a society that claims to shun bullying, it’s clear that for the so-called “promiscuous woman,” this rule doesn’t apply.
And for all these women, even the most “empathetic” responses barely rise above condescension. At best, people pity these women, speculating on their mental health, positioning themselves as saviors who understand what they really need. The same dichotomy often plays out with Britney Spears. People are either scandalized by her so-called “inappropriate behavior” or drowning her in pity, lamenting how much she’s endured. Rarely—if ever—do we see her celebrated or accepted simply as she is, without judgment, without the need to fix or frame her through a lens of shame or sympathy. Sympathy is really nothing more than shames successful cousin. It feels about the same to those on the receiving end.
Britney is the living, breathing personification of these contradictions, our collective struggle with the dark feminine archetype. She’s also a modern manifestation of the “histrionic woman.” A century ago, we’d have diagnosed her with a wandering uterus, or worse, masturbated her in a gallery of men to show how sex makes her more complaint, once again. But now, we just endlessly comment, speculate, and analyze what’s “wrong” with her.
The bio-medical mental health model is a mythology just as religions are. It’s one of the great philosophies of our time. Britney is making a lot of people very uncomfortable and the need to place that discomfort in a vacuum of safety is overwhelming. Religion offers a similar structure of order to the uncertainty of existence. As Britney’s never-ending saga plays out for us all to see, we’re projecting our own cultural mythologies and narratives onto her, and “mental illness” is the best we can come up with. For someone acting so “abnormal”, according to the values of acceptable society, everyone is scrambling to figure her out. Britney makes people uncomfortable. Not because she’s crazy—she’s not—but because she refuses to play by the rules. She’s messy, unpredictable, alive. The bio-medical mental health model might call that “disorder,” but it’s really just life without the safety net.
But when I look at Britney Spears now, I don’t see someone who is deranged or mentally ill. I see someone who never been not dancing like a monkey for the circus, still dancing like a monkey in the circus. And other than that, she’s doing just fine.
And yet, sometimes, I wonder if her life—then and now—is just a long-running PR stunt. Her videos, her voice, her presence feel too calculated to be entirely real. Some believe she’s a clone; others claim she’s the victim of MK Ultra. My own, and other's theories reflect our inability to accept her as a real, messy, imperfect human being. Despite her being freed from her conservatorship the never-ending commentary on her sexuality, her mental health, her finances, all this Othering continues to deny her of autonomy and agency. But you could also say, it's her own fault for making a public "spectacle" of herself. However, if we didn't collectively have such a narrow definition of "normal", we wouldn't be projecting our values onto her life and behavior. It’s very ouroboric, this situation.
Whatever the truth, Britney Spears remains one of the most infamous women in modern history. How did we let it come to this? And what does her story say about us? If Britney’s life is real—if she’s just a woman fighting against the weight of endless commentary on her body, her mind, her choices—then we’ve got a long way to go. About agency. About double standards. About how we treat women who refuse to conform.
*****And lastly, a writer reflexivity statement: I’ve been thinking about writing this post for quite some time. Personally, I believe in the #leavebritneyalone movement, and I think what Britney needs more than anything, truly, is to be left alone. I’ve grappled with an ethical dilemma while deciding whether to provide my own commentary on what is going on with Britney. However, I do believe that what I’ve shared is relevant and supportive of Britney’s agency, which is what is most important. I also acknowledge that I am projecting my own psychic materials onto her story, and that ultimately, that’s all any of us are doing. Whatever is truly happening with this woman will always be a mystery to those that don’t know her personally. And lastly, this article is fully an original work of my own but utilized AI editing tools.
Image Credit: Annejole Jacobs de Jongh Art (http://bit.ly/3WsdJ5U)
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