I Betrayed Whitney Houston

How music can connect us to our true knowing again

Betrayal is such a dramatic word.

It conjures Shakespearean scenes with sweeping gestures and gut-wrenching screams, but more often than not, it happens in quiet, unseen moments. That’s the way it went down when I turned my back on an iconic woman.

It was a warm spring Wednesday night after an all-out Capture the Flag battle on a sprawling Silicon Valley church campus. My 8th grade basketball teammate had invited me to youth group at least twenty times, and I’d finally relented, coming every week for the last month or so. The sweaty, rambunctious group tumbled down exhausted on the carpet, finally quiet enough to listen to the youth pastor. I kept leaning opposite directions to give my palms a break from the dotted pattern that embedded itself after a few minutes.

He started talking about a popular song on the radio, “The Greatest Love of All,” by Whitney Houston. It instantly played in my head along with the MTV music video that showed her singing the lyrics directly to the camera dressed in a stunning, sparkling white gown with huge diamond earrings like starbursts framing her gorgeous face. She enthralled me. I’d practiced singing along over and over trying to match each trill and intonation, not even daring to hope I could ever be so beautiful and confident.

​​Because the greatest love of all

Is happening to me

I found the greatest love of all

Inside of me

The greatest love of all

Is easy to achieve

Learning to love yourself

It is the greatest love of all

My lips unconsciously formed the words as he slowly pronounced each one in a grave, almost- whisper. The mood shifted, and the warm glow I felt from the song cooled and hardened into alert attention.

“Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all?” he asked with baiting suspicion, running fingers through his thick, curly hair. His round, bearded face with an intensely cheerful smile slackened as he surveyed the group. The tone raised my hackles.

The group’s intermittent giggling ceased as they considered the question. They were prepared for a church talk to point out the evils of a Motley Crew song, but Whitney Houston? Where was he going with this?

“It’s a beautiful song, folks, but what does God have to say about it?” He spread his arms out seeking an answer for a moment, and then clapped them together to launch his response. “Focusing on loving ourselves is just another name for selfishness. Jesus asks us to consider the needs of others above our own. That’s what he did on the cross. Do you think he wanted to die?” Awkward murmurs of negation rippled through the attentive crowd.

“I don’t think so either! But he put our needs, the need for forgiveness of our sins, above his own. He loved us so much that he was willing to suffer and die for us. Now that’s what I call the greatest love of all! Now, who here is ready to agree with God? Who here is ready to accept that kind of love and turn their life over to become a living example of the greatest kind of love?”

My body became very still. I wanted that kind of love; I desperately needed it. A selfish life, a life only focused on me seemed very small and insignificant compared to Jesus’s grand gesture. The glowing vision of a strong, self assured woman absolutely shining with talent, love, and happiness darkened into a caricature of a gaudy, flashy salesman tricking people into buying something that looked valuable, but was actually cheap and flimsy.

I raised my hand.

That’s the moment I betrayed her, and of course, myself.

Whitney’s songs spoke directly to me like a cool older sister or auntie– How will I know if he really loves me? She understood the butterflies and thrill of a crush. I wanna dance with somebody, I wanna feel the heat with somebody, she confided unabashedly. I felt bolder and more connected to myself when I sang along with her voice sailing on the radio waves.

Back then, I was on the cusp of becoming a woman, and was already getting bombarded with messages about holiness and purity that did not combine well with the urges and sexual curiosity I was feeling. The young adult world was just opening up, and the church’s message pounced to block the doorway, prescribing vigilance against the sinfulness prowling just beyond. In that moment, I made a choice to ignore what I knew in my own body and heart for the chance of approval and belonging.

I couldn't understand the message in The Greatest Love of All at the time. The song conveyed a sense of grounded stability and ease that completely enchanted me, but was so foreign that I couldn’t comprehend.

All this time later, thirteen years after her premature death, she speaks to me clearly again. Every word of the song rings a bell of truth in my 53 year old ears.

I return to that moment in 1985 and throw a wadded-up paper note to my incredibly dorky, big-haired, metal-mouth self. I can see her adjust her awkward crossed-legged position to grab it quickly with a glance from side to side before opening it. She reads the words slowly, and a smile spreads across her face. The pastor drones on, but she looks at him now with an invisible wall of detachment that makes room to think things over for herself.

Hey, Karen, don’t worry about what he’s saying. Sure, it’s important to think of others, but you’re one of the people God loves too. Learning to love yourself is one of the most important things you’re here to do. You don’t know this yet, but you’re going to be a singer like Whitney. You’re going to have gigs where you get to dress up and sing powerful songs to listening audiences. There’s going to be a lot of ups and downs along the way, and it won’t look like you think it should. But it’s worth it. It’s how you can stay true to yourself and love others with the gift you’ve been given.

The greatest love of all is happening to me, it’s just taken a long time to get there.

Thank you, Whitney.