Lizzy McAlpine’s 2024 ballad Pushing it Down and Praying could simultaneously be considered both an immense success and an act of emotional terrorism. In other words, this song completely changed the brain chemistry of both my psyche and other lovers globally, renowned as one of the most heartbreaking tunes of the mid 2020s. It transcends beyond the typical break-up song, its main interpretation regarding an individual longing for one person while being committed to another. Before moving forward, I would like to announce right now: I do not align with that interpretation at all. And I apologize for the absolutely insane title of this essay. If my poor boyfriend is reading thus far, keep reading babe, the moral of the story is “I love you, I just have issues”. This is simply the unorthodox route to that conclusion.
Disclaimer aside, the role of this short essay’s title stands not as mere shock-value, but as truth: I relate to this song, and it took me a while to understand how. In fact, the discourse regarding this song combined with my mysterious feelings of familiarity to its described accounts plagued me with insane guilt up until now–and Pushing it Down and Praying was released about a whopping two years ago.
I am in an overflowingly loving relationship with my partner of two years. He exceeds the title of boyfriend. When I think of him, ‘partner’ is always the first noun before the ‘boyfriend’ title; he matches me through similarities and compliments our differences. We are a team, essential to one another. So, why the hell do I relate to this song? Some of the lyrics are as follows:
When I close my eyes
You replace him
Wearin’ no disguise
You erase him
I wanna feel guilty
I wanna feel that it’s wrong
Ouch. So why the hell do I relate to this song? That’s the question I asked myself for a long time. And while it sounds dramatic to be so stumped by a ballad, my ability to relate was an entity I had to make out because it was becoming detrimental to my morality and understanding of my own character.
However, in order to rationalize my feelings with the general notion of Pushing it Down and Praying, I first had to understand that it is acceptable to resonate with music. I think what I was generally terrified of when it came to Pushing it Down and Praying were comments from others. Not that I was openly blabbering about my feelings towards this song, but what was being said about others listening to the song. Its comparison to Joji’s Glimpse of Us, how boyfriends should be afraid of their girlfriends’ spotify playlist. I didn’t want to resonate with that kind of person–one unhappy in their loving relationship–I just wanted to feel the song the way I did. Even though I felt guilty, my guilt didn’t stem from a disconnect in my relationship, but the reputation of the song. This was the distinction I had to make for my own peace of mind.
Furthermore, there are other objective factors regarding how music evokes certain feelings. Namely, sound and melody. It wasn’t just the lyrics that instilled such nostalgic, melancholy, and dooming feelings in me, but how the song sounds. The instrumental alone makes me feel queasy, and there are no talks of dishonest feelings in that recording. While this is all true, my feelings are not simply a product of sound. I resonate with many sad songs only because of the sound and feel of the music–omitting lyricism. For instance, another song of Lizzy’s, Staying. I do still partially relate to a portion of the song’s general message of Pushing it Down and Praying: I was pushing a feeling down and praying that it would go away for the sake of my relationship.
Before my current partner, I had only been in one other relationship. While it’s been irrelevant for years, I attribute that life experience to my understanding of healthy and unhealthy love. And most importantly, it was everything to my 15 to 16 year old self. From that experience, I developed major self-concept, attention, anxiety, and security issues that I struggled to resolve for months. I was extremely depressed and eventually abused substances like alcohol and nicotine to cope with my mental state.
Two years later, when I started dating my current boyfriend, I thought those vices had left me; that I had completely healed; that I was going to conquer love differently–correctly–this time. I wanted to do it perfectly because I attributed the failure of my last relationship to being heavily on my part. I didn’t want to recommit past mistakes because of how much I started to care for him. I feared being burdensome to him because of my tendency to be so emotional, attempting to be the “chill” girlfriend in the process. However, in reality, I felt and still feel so much for him that it eventually became impossible to suppress my vulnerability. I think I didn’t want to admit that I was still plagued by the consequences of my first relationship, but my fears were hiding deep within my subconscious, screaming at me to be expressed. I was so scared to love hard again out of a heavy fear of abandonment. Moreover, the fear of the possible pain I would feel again if he left me. I was worried that by entering a new relationship, I would open a door for the hard work I had done from 15 to 18 to be damaged. I know how much I have grown since my past experience, but growth fails to equal complete healing. I still had a long way to go, and I needed to be vulnerable with my current partner to begin finishing the process I started.
Softer, harder, in between
You know just how to get to me
Rationalizing my ability to resonate with Lizzy McAlpine’s Pushing it Down and Praying was truly a moral exploration. I knew myself enough to understand that I was not unhappy with my current partner, prompting an internal conflict that needed resolution. Rather, I was pushing the impact of my last relationship down for the sake of sustaining my current one. Too egotistical and afraid to admit I was still being affected, I thought it had been long enough for the trauma of my past relationship to carry on into my current one. Yet, I eventually realized that it was still getting to me. I was not as healed as I thought. This self-awareness prompted tremendous inner work, and along with help from my loving partner, I can confidently say that I am in a better place than I was when we first started dating. I feel so insanely secure, loved, confident. Nevertheless, I still have a ways to go–there are times where I still feel guilty for being distressed by my past actions and feelings. But now, I attempt to take this kind of recollection to embrace the experience I once had and how it has led me to my current state. Thank you Lizzy McAlpine, for prompting an unexpected journey of self-reflection and late healing.
Rationalizing Pushing it Down and Praying as Someone in a Two Year (Extremely Healthy) Relationship
Written By: AE
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