In keeping with this week’s theme of literally violent femmes, Maroon Five’s music video, “Misery,” portrays a sadomasochistic, heterosexual relationship in which the female character physically abuses her significant other. The physical violence occurring within the context of heterosexual relationships demonstrates the role masochism plays in relationships that are inherently unequal. In light of the over-the-top physical abuse occurring in the music video, we are prompted with the questions: Is masochism a necessary element of heterosexual relationships? And what does the female character have to gain from asserting her dominance through means of violence?

The physical violence in the music video provides a visual representation of the power struggle that exists between women and men. Due to the social and economic inequalities that exist between men and women, heterosexual relationships inherently contain a masochistic element. Women experience this masochistic element as a result of loving the person who benefits from society’s imposition of limited social roles and unequal economic status on women. “Misery,” however, inverts the expectation of female masochism and instead presents a femme fatale, who refuses to play the role of devoted wife and loving mother that society prescribes. This angle on heteronormative relationships differs from the usual heartbroken-girl-crying-over-bad-boy trope in which the female character continues to return to a painful relationship even though she knows it will hurt her. By putting the female character in control of the relationship, she preserves her independence and frees herself from having to rely on her significant other for emotional and sexual fulfillment. To demonstrate her liberation from reliance on her significant other, the female character in the music video rejects all of the male character’s sexual advances, returning each advance with a violent parry. She asserts her dominance violently causing the relationship to be a source of both love and pain for the male character.

Despite the knowledge that the femme fatale other will inflict pain, the male character continually submits to the physical abuse. The repetitive lyric “I am in misery,” in conjunction with “Girl you really got me bad,” demonstrates the male character’s acknowledgement that his significant other causes him pain. However, the subsequent lyric, “I’m gonna get you back/ Gonna get you back,” shows that he willingly pursues the emotional and physical pain because of his attachment to her. Thus demonstrating that masochism and love walk hand in hand with another in the relationship.

I am in misery
There ain’t nobody
Who can comfort me
Why won’t you answer me?
The silence is slowly killing me
Girl you really got me bad
You really got me bad
I’m gonna get you back
Gonna get you back

In this shot, the male character watches with a blank expression as the femme fatale plays the “knife game,” quickly stabbing the blade in between each of his fingers on the table. The femme fatales’ intent gaze on the male character’s expression (frighteningly not watching the destination of each stab of the knife) demonstrates the satisfaction she experiences as the person in the relationship who can inflict the pain. The physical abuse continues to occur up until the point that the male character refuses to engage anymore and gives up on the relationship, prompting the female character to walk away.

Due to the apparent failure of the relationship, did the female character gain from asserting her dominance through means of violence? She certainly succeeded at protecting herself from sliding into the submissive role that patriarchal society imposes upon women. However, the inevitable end of the relationship implies that women and men cannot peaceably coexist. The cycle of receiving and inflicting pain ultimately fails to correct the inequalities that exist between men and women and instead provides additional fuel to the fire by creating more conflict within heterosexual relationships.

Raised from birth as Catholic, I spent many of my Sundays and countless days in between learning lessons of morality and spiritual purity. Sitting in the pew before the start of Mass, I often observed the statue of the Virgin Mary, the epitome of feminine perfection—chaste and reserved. During an all-female retreat for catechism, I learned that virginity is a gift, which women must protect solely for the enjoyment of their husbands. I still recall the lesson in which the instructor explained that a part of you forever remains with the first man with whom you have sex. So I lose a part of myself when I have sex? The Church, of course, only explained the virtues of feminine virginity within a heteronormative context. The concept of virginity, especially the notion that I may lose a part of who I am to a man during sex, left me with the question of why having sex was such a definitive moment of life. Why does society attempt to define when a woman may utilize her body for sexual purposes? And why does a woman’s decision of if, when and with whom to have sex determine her worth?

The preservation of feminine virginity until marriage is one method with which patriarchal society attempts to stifle female empowerment and sexual expression. Traditionally within the home, husbands and children looked to the mother for moral guidance. Thus, men understood the successful preservation of virginity as indicative of future wifely success—similar to how admissions boards rely on SAT scores to predict student success in college. Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s novel, Chronicle of a Death Foretold, demonstrates the profound importance for women to protect their virginity as it is the ultimate indicator of feminine morality. The narrative chronicles the events surrounding the murder of Santiago Nasar, a young man who is thought to have taken the virginity of Angela Vicario, an unmarried woman. When Angela’s new husband discovers that she is not a virgin, her husband returns her to the house of her parents, reducing her to a “fallen woman”. Though, arguably, Angela does a ‘moral thing’ by telling her husband the truth and not lying about her past sexual experiences, her husband fails to recognize her honesty as an indicator of morality. Evidently, Angela Vicario’s worth as a wife and a person lay between her legs. Following her social demise, Angela submits herself to a life of menial labor and pining for her absent husband. Thus within the context of patriarchal society, virginity remains the only object of worth that a woman may give to her husband.

The idolization of virginity as equitable to women’s morality renders all accomplishments, ideas and other values that women bring to society, void. Society’s emphasis on virginity makes if, with whom, and when a woman has sex the main and only concern. However, I believe that a woman’s decision to have sex before or after marriage does not determine who you are as a person or how good you are.

In the video and book, “The Purity Myth,” the media’s portrayal of sexy, single, female celebrities declaring their commitment to abstinence demonstrates the relationship that exists between virginity and morality in society. American society praised celebrities such as Britney Spears and Miley Cyrus who proudly declared their virginity to the public. Within the context of patriarchal society, the two ladies’ proclamation of sexual purity increased their moral worth and their worth as women. As the narrator of the video assertively states, American society and media (though not exclusively America) “leads women to believe that their moral compass lies somewhere between their legs.” This notion drastically sets back the feminist movement because it reduces women to sex objects. It does not take into account other attributes, which make someone a good person.

Even from a young age, society teaches girls that in order to be moral, they must preserve their virginity until marriage. This emphasis on virginity reduces young girls to potential sex objects, especially by promoting the fashion of purity rings – physical indicators of sexual purity. Girls may as well wear a sign that reads “I am the ultimate object of male desire.” Shortly after receiving my confirmation, I received a purity ring and was told to pledge my virginity to God. I was told upon receiving the purity ring that I had to wear it until I swapped it for a wedding ring—the one ring to rule them all. In other words, I had to wait until a man chose to marry me before I could have sex. This took away my power to make my own decisions regarding my sex life. Taking away a woman’s ability to make decisions pertaining to her sex life encourages submissiveness and reinforces the traditional gender role of female servitude in the household. As I grew older, I began to perceive that my innate worth was tied to the preservation of my virginity. This idea, I have since relinquished. The purity balls, which the video and book describe, illustrate society’s early attempts to brainwash adolescent girls and initiate them into the “cult of virginity.” During these balls, girls deck white dresses to symbolize their sexual purity and pledge their virginity to their father. The young girl’s pledge of virginity to their father until marriage is reminiscent of the literal transfer of property rights from a father’s household to a husbands, which popularly existed up until the last century in western countries. Female sexuality is thus commoditized as a girl who has had sex, such as Angela Vicario, can be seen as “damaged goods.”

To take the necessary step in the direction towards social equality, young girls should be taught how to recognize their accomplishments, personalities and ideas as objects of worth, not whether or not they waited until marriage to have sex. Women must be able to fully control their ability to choose if, when, or with whom to have sex, without society instructing them on the proper choice or designating a moral value to it. With the power to choose how to utilize one’s body, comes true equality. Women are worth more than their virginity.

Márquez, Gabriel García. Chronicle of a Death Foretold. New York: Knopf, 1983. Prin