Ctrl: A Love Letter to Black Women
- Nicolette Maina
- 2 days ago
- 6 min read
“If I lost control, or did not have control, things would just... be fatal.”
Singer-songwriter SZA’s debut album Ctrl is a dynamic piece that dives into the experience of self-discovery in early adulthood, encapsulating the good, the bad, and the ugly. While it resonates with young people from all backgrounds, the raw and unfiltered way in which she breaks down the constant balancing act between trying to maintain control while simultaneously battling her own feelings of insecurity, frustration, and anger is an arguably perfect reflection of exactly what it means to be a Black woman navigating love and life in young adulthood.
The acoustic guitar that introduces the album in the track Supermodel, paired with her hypnotising voice which sings, “I’m writing this letter to let you know...”, sets the scene for an invitation to her internal thoughts, making this album not only soothing but truly personal and vulnerable. Though she was initially hesitant to release the album, her stream-of-consciousness style of songwriting feels like a diary, and it is this authenticity that has made it such a timeless piece that has stuck with so many young Black women around the globe.
The album opens with a voice note from Solána Rowe’s (SZA) grandmother – Norma Rowe – where she says, “If I lost control, or did not have control, things would just... be fatal,” capturing how control prerequisites life as a Black woman. From an early age, Black women (and other women of colour alike) are taught that we cannot experience emotion in the same way as our white counterparts without being perceived as “reactive”, “melodramatic”, or feeding into the “angry Black woman” stereotype.
This has created such a narrow societal view of Black womanhood and an expectation for us to display strength and composure in a way that leaves little room for vulnerability. This not only presents itself in everyday life but systematically as well. In an April 2023 article, The Guardian’s Candice Brathwaite writes, “British Black women die in childbirth at an appalling rate,” referencing a 2018 statistic that showed that Black women are five times more likely to die during childbirth.
This heartbreaking statistic is just one example of the demand for resilience in Black women, which can often manifest itself as emotional unavailability, feelings of inadequacy, and self-doubt — specifically in the context of relationships and love. While these themes are central to the entirety of the album, they are beautifully dissected in the album’s lead single Drew Barrymore, a ballad named after the talented ’90s actress — a symbol of emotional authenticity, imperfection, and raw.
This song — one of my favourites on the album — feels less like a track and more like a confessional as we take a deep dive into her insecurities and, subsequently, her envy of the love interest’s new girl. The way she exposes her flaws is frankly breathtaking, as the same Black women who have had to put on a façade of collectedness to feel accepted are able to find comfort in her vulnerability.
In particular, how she explicitly states her own perceived shortcomings when she sings, “I’m sorry I’m not more attractive, I’m sorry I’m not more ladylike...”, is a testament to society’s hypermasculinisation of Black women (specifically dark-skinned women), and how we often have to grapple with being put into a box of what Black femininity looks like.
This desire to be judged by the same criteria as other women is again repeated in the album’s twelfth track, Normal Girl. Here, SZA explores how Western beauty standards often exclude Black women in a way that causes many of us to internalise that we will never be “the type of girl that you’d take over to Mama.” Regardless of the fact that SZA is undoubtedly gorgeous, she expresses how the racist standards she is measured against limit her from ever feeling truly valued, as they were never built with her in mind.
Indeed, in an interview with The Breakfast Club radio show, SZA says, “I’ve lacked control my whole life, and I think I’ve craved it my whole life,” a sentiment that reflects in this song when she repeats the line, “I really wish I was a normal girl” — an admission of the longing to be desired, not for who the world expects her to be, but for who she truly is.
The paradoxical dynamic between the yearning for love and the inability to show emotional availability is further seen in the tracks Love Galore, The Weekend, and Broken Clocks. In these tracks, SZA creates an illusion of detachment, where she shields herself from betrayal and pain through low-commitment, casual relationships.
While many listeners categorise these songs solely as “side-chick anthems”, her expression of emotional numbness reveals how her desire to be accepted has caused her to hide parts of herself and invest little time and effort into her romantic entanglements in an act of self-preservation.
Despite her “taking the power back” attitude, her will to be loved still peaks through the mask of disinterest in a real and exclusive romantic relationship. In these tracks, she constructs emotional ambiguity by delving into the contradiction between craving a connection while simultaneously protecting her peace.
All her frustrations are delicately tied together in the album’s penultimate track — Pretty Little Birds — an ode to all the Black women who have had to show up anyway, despite being beaten down in ways that often leave our dignity bruised. The song opens with the line, “You are but a phoenix among feathers.” Her use of the “phoenix” over any other bird is not merely a coincidence, but a symbol of resilience; this mythical bird is known to be reborn from ashes — born to burn, but destined to rise.
A symbol for resilience and strength in a world designed to bring them down. Here, SZA addresses the listeners and sings, “Pretty little girls, we hit the window a few times,” a line that teaches us that while there will always be things that trouble us, there is so much beauty in having the courage to fly anyway.
Internally, however, SZA still grapples with the desire to be “the golden goose” and not have this hardiness demanded from her.
The way she oscillates between heartbreak and hope blends in perfectly with the album’s final track — 20 Something. Here, SZA takes an introspective look into this version of herself and, though she still has her questions, she confronts her feelings inwardly, accepting that her current state of diffidence is all part of the experience of youth — a final step towards peace of mind. In a 2017 interview with Apple Music, SZA articulates this sentiment and says, “Accepting that... I can’t get it together, it’s just part of my thing — like, it’s just the way I am.”
With this in mind, we see how Ctrl stresses the importance of coming to love yourself for who you are, instead of trying to fit into the mould of who society wants you to be. The lyric, “God bless these 20 somethings,” tells us that feeling unfinished during this phase of life — full of uncertainty — is simply a part of growing up, and we must learn to accept ourselves for who we are and find joy within the journey of self-discovery.
SZA’s Ctrl is therefore more than just an album; it is a piece of artistry that transcends time, experiences, and identity. The way she expresses her internal conflict between wanting to feel loved and sheltering herself from being hurt resonates so deeply with the experience of being a Black woman in a society that consistently puts us at a disadvantage.
This is perhaps why many fans who discovered the album during adolescence admit that the more they have grown up and had experiences of their own, the more they resonate with it. In this sense, it is SZA’s unfiltered songwriting that has caused this album to achieve its longevity and remain close to the hearts of all the young Black women who have had to fight for themselves, even when they felt beaten down.
She shows us that self-discovery and the path to self-acceptance are not linear and that it is okay for there to be a dissonance between who you are and who you are becoming. In the end, what matters is not being defeated by these adversities, but being brave enough not to be overcome by them.
Edited by Daniela Roux
Album photo courtesy of SZA