Taylor Swift and Vulnerability

I can hear what you’re thinking, in the collective brains of all my friends and family out there - Jill, are you seriously fucking writing a blog post about Taylor Swift??

Yeah, I am. Stick with me, homefries.

When I’m writing this, Taylor Swift is only 24 years old. Love her or hate her, she’s put together one hell of an empire for herself, hasn’t she? Think about that for a second. 24. What were YOU doing when you were 24? I don’t say this to make you feel bad (or good, for you achievers) about yourself, I just want you to be aware of how you felt when you were that age. I know that I was still trying to figure out life.

Wait.

What the fuck am I talking about? I’m *still* trying to figure out life.

I was little more lost (so to speak) at 24 though. I’m a bit more comfortable in my skin at this age (as I write this, it’s 35). I was scared. I had essentially just packed up my truck and moved from Ohio to way northern Wisconsin. I was living in a motel (!!!), I did have a job (very close to the hotel, natch), but I was nowhere near Tay-tay status. She has paparazzi in her face 24/7, and her every move is scrutinized, more, because of her reputation with relationships. One could most certainly make the argument that she put herself in that position - absolutely - but remember that you screwed up in relationships when you were that age (or younger, or older), and if you’re perfect and married your high school sweetheart, and you have a perfect life with 2.5 children and a dog, well, bravo for you (read: I hate your guts).

The rest of us don’t have that luck.

So that kind of brings us around to her most recent album, 1989. Another album was recently released in September of Ryan Adams covering that entire album...his interpretations of all the songs. I read an article on The Current (an *amazing* public radio station in Minneapolis) about the release (as I’m listening to his version of Blank Space) and was moved by a quote of his; “ [The songs are] very vulnerable and brave…” and I started really *thinking* about vulnerability. I immediately switched over to her version of the song (which - make fun of me if you want - I love *sigh*) and listened to it with new ears. It is very vulnerable and brave, as is Shake It Off...and the rest of the album. Ryan’s version of 1989 is amazing (I might be a little in love with him at the moment) and moving; you can hear that there is not a lick of cynicism in his rendering.

Think about those lines. “Ain’t it funny? Rumors fly about me...So it’s gonna be forever, or it’s gonna go down in flames. You can tell me when it’s over if the high was worth the pain. Got a long list of ex-lovers, they’ll tell you I’m insane. I got a blank space baby, and I’ll write your name.”  I absolutely loved this song, because I *felt* it. Seemingly, the girl (Taylor, presumably) in the song went through a promiscuous period that I have gone through myself and may have mentioned in a previous blog post, but just in passing. I’m coming down harder on the issue now because it should be discussed. I skimmed over it the first time because I didn’t want to deal with slut shaming. Now I’m ready. Call me whatever you want, but I know who I am, and I’m paraphrasing a Tyrion Lannister quote, but I’ll wear it like armor.

Now, really absorb her lines. That is a tough thing to say for a 35 year old who is comfortable in her skin, let alone a 24 year old, let alone Taylor Swift who always has a camera in her face. And this poor girl has to deal with slut shaming on a constant basis. I’m not going to keep repeating that she is partially responsible, but do you think she could have really escaped all of those paparazzi? I don’t know either, because I’ve never walked in Taylor’s shoes. She’s also famous (as everyone knows) for writing songs about ex-boyfriends or ex-lovers ...skim over any of the YouTube comments, and those trolls are just foaming at the mouth attempting to figure out who *this one* is about. Really? Is that wholly necessary? Do we really need to know what’s going on in her bedroom? Why? I certainly didn’t want anyone to know what was going on in mine. That was for me, and me only. It still is. I understand that she’s a little more...up-front about her business, but if she doesn’t offer it up I don’t think that it needs to be brought up otherwise.

This is not the first time that vulnerability has come up today (or in the last few months for me) so I think I should try to touch on it a bit. Writing for the blog is extremely difficult, because I expose myself a little more every week, and that’s fucking terrifying. If you don’t think it would be, you’re probably a narcissist. I’m enough of a narcissist to think that people would *care* about something that I have to say, but I’ve actually had people flat-out tell me that they’re interested in what I have to say. In more than one setting, and complete strangers. (I think I mentioned other therapists and people I’ve met in looney bins.)

So there.

I was sent a surprise by a high school friend recently, and it’s a total metaphor for me writing my blog. She calls them my thinking/writing pants, and I’ve got them on now. It’s a pair of amazingly cool leggings, but I am totally not used to wearing something so tight  - I feel naked. I asked her - K - how long it would take until I felt not-so-naked and just walked out the door with them on. She says that she doesn’t even think about it anymore - they’re now pants. Then it hit me - the longer I wear them, the more comfortable I feel; the more I write, the more comfortable I’ll feel doing it and publishing the results.  

It’s a terrifying experience to put yourself out there. I would have loved to have been in Taylor’s head as she recorded, as she released the record, and the video. I’m sure she was scared, but not as scared as the first time she took the stage, or stood behind the mic. Just keep moving forward - it’s fucking frightening, but put yourself out there. I’m sure I’ll get knocked down - everyone bombs. I can’t think about that right now. If I worry about what I can’t even predict, I’ll never get anything done.

Some days I just sit at the computer and try to will the words out of my fingers. Some days I write about stuff that will *never* see the light of day - it’s for me only. I’ve got a “stack” of posts that I’m not quite sure what I’ll do with - they’ve got bits that I *love* in there, but as a whole, they just suck. I read them all occasionally, to see if this piece will fit with that piece, but the thought “this is going to suck and I’m going to lose readers” is always in the back of my head.

But I keep writing. And I’m going to keep publishing.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo