Somebody that I used to Know

 Somebody That I Used to Know by Gotye

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8UVNT4wvIGY

When I first heard Somebody That I Used to Know by Gotye, I mostly thought of it as a breakup song. But as I reflected on my experiences with black women in my life, listening to this song started to feel like more as a metaphor for misunderstanding and dismissal of one’s pain. Like noted in my former blogs, I often dismissed black women’s anger as “overly emotional” or “bitter” in the past. I thought their frustration was personal or irrational, rather than recognizing that it could be a response to systemic pressures and repeated injustices. Reflecting on Gotye’s song made me realize that I had been just like the guy in the song; blind to the deeper truth of someone else’s pain. 

Reading Audre Lorde’s The Uses of Anger gave me language for something I didn’t really understand at the time. Lorde explains that anger is not something to fear or dismiss, but it is a powerful response to injustice. Thinking about the black women I know, I started to see that what I once labeled as bitter were just frustrated at being systematically ignored. For the first time, I understood that anger is not inherently destructive but can also bring healing. I felt embarrassed thinking on how I had misread their emotions for so long, but I also feel grateful for the chance to learn.

Brittney Cooper’s Eloquent Rage further deepened my understanding by emphasizing how society tries to silence black women’s anger and demanding that they appear “acceptable” rather than authentic. This resonated with me because I realized I had unconsciously participated in that silencing by judging their expressions of frustration as personal flaws rather than seeing the context behind them. Cooper also helped me recognize that anger can be a form of clarity to point out the cracks in the system. Connecting this to Gotye’s song, I saw parallels between the singer’s inability to understand the other person’s perspective and my own failure to listen to black women in my life. 

Joan Morgan’s Hip Hop Feminism also offered insight into how black women navigate spaces that simultaneously demand their voices and invalidate them. Morgan describes the delicate balance black women maintain, asserting themselves in a world that often misreads their strength as hostility. And making a defense for it when people call out the industry for being demeaning towards women. This made me think about my own assumptions. I realized that I had often dismissed their words and emotions without fully understanding the weight of what they carried. Even seeing rappers like Cardi B makes me wince because I thought all their gimmick was just flaunting their bodies and nothing else. Obviously, there’s a bit more about that. 

Looking back, the combination of the song and these reading these feminist texts forced me to confront uncomfortable truths about myself. I realized that my initial ignorance might not have caused physical harm, but it was still harmful, nonetheless. I felt ashamed thinking about how dismissive I had been, especially toward black women I allegedly cared about deeply. But I also felt motivated to do better, to listen without judgment, and to approach anger with curiosity. This process of reflection has made me see that empathy and awareness towards issues like this are actions I should actively keep up with.

In conclusion, Somebody That I Used to Know became a mirror reflecting my own misunderstandings. With the guidance of the other feminists works I wrote about, I began to see anger not as a personal attack but as a signal of injustice, and I began to recognize my own blind spots.