Friends, family, fans: our long national nightmare rages on. After welcoming her first child in May 2022, our beloved Robyn Rihanna Fenty has once again decided to procreate with Loftstyle Enemy #1, the man that had the gall to take her to Barcade in 2021 (and embarrass her upon entry, no less!): Rakim Athelaston Mayers, known to the public as A$AP Floppy Rocky.
As you can probably imagine, I did not take the news well. My disdain for Rihanna’s [redacted] has been well-documented at this point, but the reveal really hit different after I had spent the last week buying into all the new song/album/tour rumors, only to find out none of it was happening because That Man doesn’t know how to respect a woman. Not to get all tin-hat-conspiracy-theorist on main, but I lowkey think she planted those rumors just so we’d get thrown off her scent.
As for the actual halftime show, I thought she looked amazing, the staging was incredible, and I liked watching the marshmallow men do their lil dancey dance. If you walked away from that performance feeling any type of way other than thoroughly entertained, I implore you to give yourself a good, hard look in the mirror and ask yourself, what else did you want from her??? She included a nod to “Pose” and “Birthday Cake” and she didn’t even bother to utter the words “Lift Me Up” — isn’t that enough for you people?
But honestly, truly, seriously: if your first thought after watching a pregnant woman (who is simultaneously nine months postpartum, mind you) is “go girl, give us nothing,” then the worms in your brain must be reproducing at hypersonic speed, honey. They’re so healthy they’ve probably created a self-sustaining economy and have banned any and all single-use plastics. It’s inspiring, really, what they’ve been able to accomplish, but it’s a shame they’re being wasted on you and your rotting grey matter.
Also, too many people are disappointed Rihanna didn’t have any guests, when they should be counting their lucky stars she didn’t bring out Jay-Z and we didn’t have a repeat of the great “Deja Vu (Homecoming Live)” catastrophe of 2018. She was not about to let a man humiliate her on her big night, and we have to applaud that.
Despite falling for all the new music rumors, I’ve actually come to accept the fact that Rihanna may never release another non-soundtrack related song ever again. She spent the last decade+ of her young life pumping out hits, and if she’s happier girlbossing with six different Fenty Beauty offshoots than making music, then it’s time for us to let her go — and I think the halftime show was the exact send-off that we needed.
I haven’t, however, come to terms with the fact that she and my nemesis are still very much in love, but I’m happy the baby gets to have Rihanna as a mother, I guess.
To help you reach the level of acceptance (and nirvana) that I’ve achieved in the last 24 hours, I’ve put together a ranking of my favorite Rihanna songs in case it helps somehow. They are:
“Watch ‘N Learn”
“You Da One”
“Woo”
“Consideration”
“Bitch Better Have My Money”
“Breakin’ Dishes”
“Do Ya Thang”
“Firebomb”
“Kiss It Better”
“Raining Men”
Don’t forget to hold space for my honorable mentions, “Higher,” “Shut Up And Drive,” “Sell Me Candy,” “Talk That Talk,” and “Sex With Me.”