She Finally Got It Right: What T. Swift Can Teach Us About Finding Love
Our favorite cowgirl boot-clad country singer turned pop star released her "1989 World Tour: Live" on Apple Music last month, and for all of us Swifties, it was the greatest thing that has ever happened.
I was lucky enough to witness her all-around awesomeness and shake it off with her in Toronto this past October, but I wanted to relive it all.
How could I not?
After all, she is Taylor Swift.
I've found that if she wants me, as a fan, to do something (like sign up for a three-month free trial of Apple Music that I will likely forget about until I get charged $9.99 in March), then I will most definitely do it.
Karlie Kloss even knows Tay has us eating out of the palms of her hands.
But when I went to watch Taylor's tour all over again, I only made it to the second song.
Tay opens the show with "Welcome to New York" before quickly transitioning into "New Romantics."
Now, "New Romantics" is one of my faves on the album.
It's so incredibly on point and brutally honest that I couldn't help but love it.
It's Taylor's songwriting at its best.
But, that sh*t is depressing.
I think 1989 was kind of the rebirth of Taylor Swift.
There was something refreshing about her new style.
It was jaded. It was honest. It was sad, and it was happy.
It was everything in-between. It was life.
1989 perfectly encapsulates our generation. We are the new romantics.
The first time I heard this song, I knew from the first verse I would love it.
I love what is true, and Taylor Swift took a turn for the unapologetic.
We never have everything we want.
We're always waiting for something better to come along, even when what we have is perfect.
We wear heartbreak on our sleeves, and we're all living our own kind of tragedy.
We voice our mistakes because they need to be heard, and whatever mistakes you made always have to one-up that of another's.
We're all victims of society.
With social media being what it is, there's always room for judgment.
There's always someone thinking something mean, hiding behind a screen and willing to type what he or she would never say in person.
We live in a media landscape that creates this constant battle to be perfect, when in reality, none of us are perfect.
Have you ever noticed how many things you read nowadays about f*cked up relationships?
We're never willing to settle for happiness because even though the man we know we should want is standing right beside us, willing to give his all, we still want that douchebag with the drinking problem whom we think we can change.
The rumors people spread, yeah, they're terrible.
But you know what?
Most of them really are true, and we're okay with it.
Having a rumor spread about you may hurt, but at least you're relevant. #Pathetic.
Romantic? Try dramatic.
But it's what we all want, right?
We can't have a fairytale romance without the ups and downs of an episode of "Gossip Girl."
Heaven forbid you fall in love without being left stranded, crying in the rain at least once, or drunkenly screaming in the street outside the bar until you both wake up the next morning and realize how idiotic you were being.
We are the new romantics.
We thrive in our heartbreak, and we resolve to a boring life in our happiness.
We love the drama of it all.
We consider it a life well-lived to have loved and lost, instead of to have just loved.
We hurt when we go out with our friends and there's no one to go home to, and we hurt with every shot we take.
But, we dance to forget the mistakes, the loves and the losses that really make us who we are (at least until the next morning).
The best people in life may be free, but nobody likes a bargain.
We may hope our friends are genuine, but we'll never truly trust them.
We're the new romantics, and we find romance in tragedy.
Society can have our happy endings.
We don't want them anyway, right?
We have each other, a generation drowning in our own sorrows, fighting our own battles and waiting on a world to change that won't.
We take it for what it is because yeah, it is romantic.
It's the only thing we've ever known.