the grudge

"the grudge" is a profoundly raw and introspective exploration of the emotional aftermath of a deep betrayal by someone the singer once loved and trusted. The song's central theme is the immense difficulty of forgiveness and the heavy, consuming burden of holding onto resentment. It details a specific, life-altering event—a phone call in May—that shattered Rodrigo's world and transformed her "undying love" into a persistent grudge. The lyrics capture the cyclical nature of trauma, where the singer obsessively replays every detail of the betrayal, unable to move on.

The song also delves into the psychological complexities of being wronged. Rodrigo grapples with feelings of inadequacy and hears the betrayer's voice in moments of self-doubt. There's a powerful internal conflict between her desire to appear strong and unaffected (saying "I don't care, I say that I'm fine") and the overwhelming urge to scream in frustration and pain. She explores the possible motivations of the person who hurt her, speculating that their actions stem from their own insecurity and unhappiness, touching on the idea that "hurt people hurt people." However, she makes it clear that the pain inflicted was not mutual or equal.

Ultimately, the song is not about finding resolution or closure. Its power lies in its honest depiction of being stuck in a state of unresolved pain. Rodrigo admits that while she knows forgiveness takes strength, she simply doesn't feel strong enough yet, leaving the listener with a poignant sense of lingering hurt and the difficult, ongoing journey of healing.

The narrative begins with a stark, traumatic memory tied to a specific moment in time: a phone call on a Friday in May that completely upended the speaker's world. This event, a profound betrayal of trust, has left a lingering confusion that she cannot shake. The person responsible, she laments, took everything she held dear and carelessly destroyed it, seemingly without a second thought for the devastation they caused. While the betrayer likely never reflects on the damage, the speaker clings to every painful detail, replaying the events as if her life depends on remembering the specifics. Her once "undying love" has now twisted and hardened into a heavy grudge.

This internal turmoil manifests as a persistent voice of self-doubt, echoing the betrayer's words whenever she feels inadequate. She puts on a brave face, trying to be tough, but internally she is screaming, unable to comprehend how someone could inflict such pain so effortlessly. She tells herself and others that she doesn't care and that she's fine, but it's a facade. Deep down, she knows she is incapable of letting go, despite countless attempts over a long period. She acknowledges the common adage that forgiveness requires strength, but vulnerably admits she doesn't feel strong enough to offer it.

The speaker finds a hollow sense of victory in the imaginary arguments she wins against this person—in the shower, in her car, in the mirror. In these private moments, she is powerful and can make them feel the guilt she believes they deserve. She even fantasizes about a moment where they express genuine remorse for their actions. Trying to rationalize the betrayal, she speculates about their motives, concluding they must be deeply insecure and unhappy themselves. She recognizes the psychological principle that "hurt people hurt people" and concedes that both parties may have inflicted wounds, but she firmly states that the damage was never equal.

The bridge of the song introduces a powerful metaphor, describing the betrayer’s offerings—symbolized as flowers—as being filled with poison ("vitriol"). This person, she sings, built her up only to watch her fall, a cruel act from someone who already seemed to have everything yet still craved more. Despite her attempts to be tough and mean in response, she confesses a heartbreaking truth: even after all the pain, this person still means everything to her. The song concludes on a note of resignation and unresolved tension. She knows the other person doesn't care, and while she tries to accept it, the inability to let go remains. The final lines reiterate her struggle with forgiveness, ending with the poignant admission, "I'm not quite sure I'm there yet."

"the grudge" was written by Olivia Rodrigo in collaboration with her producer, Dan Nigro, for her second studio album, Guts, released on September 8, 2023. The song was recorded at Amusement Studios in Los Angeles. Rodrigo has described Guts as an album about navigating "confusion, mistakes, awkwardness & good old fashioned teen angst" at the age of 19. "the grudge" was one of the most emotional songs for her to write, and she reportedly cried during the process.

A key lyrical breakthrough for the song was inspired by the music of The Smiths. During a drive to the studio, Rodrigo was listening to their song "I Know It's Over," which contains the line "it takes courage to be kind." This sparked a thought for her: "What if I don't want to have courage and don't want to be kind?" This moment of frustration led her to write down the line, "It takes strength to forgive, but I don't feel strong," in her phone's Notes app. She and Nigro reportedly had a musical "tug-of-war" over finding the right melody for this pivotal line.

While Rodrigo has never officially confirmed the song's subject, fans have speculated it could be about a romantic ex-boyfriend or a professional fallout, with some theories pointing towards an alleged feud with Taylor Swift over songwriting credits for Rodrigo's song "Deja Vu." Rodrigo has refrained from confirming any specific inspiration, stating she prefers not to "pigeonhole a song to being about this one thing."

"the grudge" utilizes a relatively simple and direct rhyme scheme that prioritizes emotional clarity over complex poetic structure. The verses often follow an approximate AABB or ABCB pattern, using near rhymes and slant rhymes (e.g., "lingers"/"fingers", "did"/"it") which contribute to the song's conversational and diaristic feel. The chorus maintains a consistent rhyme, particularly with the lines ending in "scream" and "easily," reinforcing the central emotional outcry.

Rhythmically, the song is a slow-tempo ballad, primarily in a 4/4 time signature. The pacing is deliberate and mournful, guided by the piano. The lyrical rhythm in the verses is fluid and speech-like, mirroring the pattern of someone recounting a painful memory. This contrasts with the chorus, where the rhythm becomes more forceful and sustained, as Rodrigo holds onto the higher notes, emphasizing the emotional weight of the words. The interplay between the gentle, steady rhythm of the piano and the dynamic, emotional rhythm of her vocal delivery is crucial to the song's power, allowing the emotional intensity to build and recede naturally.

Musical Techniques:

• Piano-Driven Power Ballad: The song's primary instrumentation is a soft, melancholic piano that builds in intensity. This structure mirrors the song's emotional arc, starting with quiet introspection and swelling into a powerful chorus that reflects her inner turmoil and desire to "scream." Critics have compared its piano-led composition to her earlier hit, "Drivers License."
• Dynamic Vocal Delivery: Rodrigo's vocal performance is a key stylistic element. She moves from a more delicate, almost whispery tone in the verses to a full-throated, high-ranging belt in the chorus and bridge. This dynamic range effectively communicates the raw, unfiltered emotion, shifting from vulnerability to anguish.
• Crescendo and Layering: The production, helmed by Dan Nigro, uses a gradual crescendo. As the song progresses, subtle layers of synthesizers, guitars, and percussion are added, increasing the sonic texture and emotional weight, culminating in the cathartic bridge.

Literary Techniques:

• Direct Address and Rhetorical Questions: The lyrics often directly address the person who wronged her ("How could anybody do the things you did so easily?", "Ooh, do you think I deserved it all?"). This creates an intimate, confrontational tone, as if the listener is hearing her side of an unresolved argument.
• Vivid Imagery: Rodrigo uses concrete imagery to describe abstract pain, such as crushing everything she loved "in between your fingers." This makes the sense of loss and destruction feel more visceral and immediate.
• Internal Monologue: The song functions as an internal monologue, revealing her private thoughts and fantasies, such as winning arguments against the person "in the shower, in the car, and in the mirror before bed." This provides a raw and honest glimpse into her coping mechanisms.

Released on September 8, 2023, as a track on Olivia Rodrigo's highly anticipated sophomore album, Guts, "the grudge" received significant attention from critics and fans. The album itself was a commercial success, debuting at number one on the Billboard 200 chart in the United States and topping charts in 14 other countries. All 12 tracks from Guts, including "the grudge," charted within the top 40 of the Billboard Hot 100. "the grudge" debuted at number 16 on the Hot 100 and also charted internationally, reaching the top 10 in Ireland and New Zealand and the top 20 in Australia and Canada.

Critically, the song was often highlighted as a standout ballad on the album, with many praising its lyrical vulnerability, emotional depth, and Rodrigo's powerful vocal performance, drawing comparisons to her breakout hit "Drivers License." Much of the public discourse around the song centered on speculation about its subject matter. Fans and media outlets theorized that the lyrics about betrayal from someone she admired could be directed at Taylor Swift, following a rumored falling out over songwriting credits. Rodrigo has neither confirmed nor denied these rumors, which has only fueled further discussion.

The song was included on the setlist for Rodrigo's successful 2024 Guts World Tour, where it was performed live, solidifying its place as a key emotional anchor within her discography.

"the grudge" employs several powerful metaphors and symbols to convey its emotional weight.

• The Grudge as a Physical Object: The central metaphor is transforming the abstract feeling of love into a tangible grudge. The line, "My undying love, now I hold it like a grudge," visualizes resentment as something she is forced to carry, a heavy burden that was once light and cherished. It symbolizes how broken trust can corrupt a positive emotion into a source of ongoing pain.
• Flowers Filled with Vitriol: In the bridge, the line "Your flower's filled with vitriol" is a striking image. Flowers typically symbolize affection, praise, or support. By filling them with "vitriol" (a word for cruel, bitter criticism or poison), Rodrigo suggests that the praise and support she received from this person were insincere and laced with malicious intent, designed to build her up only to facilitate a greater fall.
• Unequal Cuts: The lyric, "We both drew blood, but man, those cuts were never equal," serves as a metaphor for the disproportionate nature of the pain inflicted in the conflict. While acknowledging some mutual fault ("we both drew blood"), the imagery of unequal wounds insists that the damage she suffered was far more severe than any she may have caused, highlighting the injustice she feels.
• A Friday in May: The specific mention of "that Friday in May" acts as a symbolic anchor for the trauma. It's not just a random memory but a fixed point in time to which all the pain is tethered, emphasizing how deeply the event is seared into her memory.

Several recurring phrases and motifs anchor the lyrical and emotional themes of "the grudge":

• "That Friday in May": The song opens with this specific time marker ("I have nightmares each week 'bout that Friday in May"), immediately establishing it as the singular, traumatic event at the heart of the narrative. This phrase grounds the abstract pain in a concrete moment, highlighting its lasting and haunting impact.
• The Act of Trying ("I've tried, I've tried, I've tried for so long"): This repetition in the chorus emphasizes the singer's exhaustive and futile efforts to move on. The threefold repetition conveys a sense of desperation and prolonged struggle, making her admission that she "can't let it go" feel more tragic and relatable.
• The Conflict of Forgiveness ("It takes strength to forgive, but..."): The phrase "It takes strength to forgive" appears multiple times, acting as the song's central thesis. However, it's always followed by a confession of her own perceived weakness: "but I don't feel strong" or, at the very end, "but I'm not quite sure I'm there yet." This recurring motif highlights the internal battle between knowing the path to healing and being emotionally unable to take it.
• The Internal Scream ("I try to be tough, but I wanna scream"): This line recurs to underscore the contrast between her external composure and internal agony. It's a motif representing the suppression of intense emotion and the immense effort it takes to maintain a facade of being "fine."