TRENDING

Dear Taylor,

To some people, it might seem odd to pen an old-fashioned thank-you note. But if there’s one thing you’ve taught me, it’s the extraordinary power of a carefully crafted sentence, a single word, a hook and, most importantly, a bridge. 

So I’m fully embracing my Tortured Poet era to thank you for everything you’ve done for me…and millions of others around the globe.

You and I go way back—almost 15 years, to be exact. I remember my first listen of Fearless: My mom bought the CD for me after I read your cover story in the December/January ’09 issue of Girls’ Life (which, given the fact that I’m currently writing this cover story about you for the 30th anniversary issue of the same exact magazine, is a freakishly full-circle moment). 

By the time I got to “You Belong With Me” (track 6), I was absolutely enthralled—and not just in a dance around your bedroom singing into a hairbrush kind of way (though I definitely did my fair share of that). I couldn’t believe how your songs perfectly mirrored my own teenage experiences, in all their best friend, first kiss, daily insecurities glory. 

I was so inspired that I taught myself how to play guitar and took the stage at my middle school’s annual talent show. Donning a white eyelet sundress and cowboy boots, sparkly guitar in hand, I (the tall, gangly, kinda awkward sixth grader who was too afraid to even raise her hand during class) stepped into the spotlight and sang my heart out to “Love Story.”

I was only performing to a handful of students sitting criss-cross applesauce on the gymnasium floor, but it could have been Madison Square Garden. Because you made me feel like I could do anything.

As I got older and rode out the highs and lows of adolescence, you were right there alongside me.

You were there when my very first crush flashed me a smile at my locker (“Hey Stephen,” and I conveniently changed the title to “Hey Brennan”).

And you were there when I sobbed on the bathroom floor after said crush asked the popular girl to the school dance instead of me (“Teardrops On My Guitar”).

You were there when I looked in the mirror before my first day as an upperclassman and wondered if I was pretty enough (“Tied Together With a Smile”). 

You were there when I left my hometown behind and moved to Nashville for college (“Never Grow Up”). 

You were there when I broke up with my long-term boyfriend (“My Tears Ricochet”) and when I fell in love again—even though I didn’t think it was possible (“Daylight”).

More than just the soundtrack to my life and the background music to my most important memories, you validated my sweeping, tumultuous emotions. 

From head-over-heels romances to devastating heartbreaks to finding my place (or lack thereof) in a friend group, you reminded me that I wasn’t alone—and that I wasn’t messy or damaged for feeling things so deeply.

@oneillkat

Fast-forward to today: I’m well into my 20s…and I’m still trading friendship bracelets, dressing up to go to your concerts and staying up ’til midnight for your album releases like I’m waiting for Santa Claus. And you know what? I’m proud of that, because to be a Swiftie is to celebrate life for all its creative, joyous, messy, beautiful, smart, silly, empowering and challenging parts.

You’ve reminded all of us that it’s OK to be imperfect. And that it’s OK to feel immature…or misunderstood…or like you haven’t quite figured everything out yet. 

And you’ve given us courage in the face of it all: to embrace our vulnerabilities, to show up authentically, to pursue our wildest dreams, to reinvent ourselves and to emerge from all the curveballs as stronger, better women.

Unlike you, I didn’t follow up my talent show debut with a record-setting music career—just a few coffee shop gigs that, in a roundabout way, led me down the path of writing this story right now (after all, you’re the one who got me hooked on pouring my thoughts out on a page). 

But because of you, I have the confidence to share my passions, to put my whole heart into everything I do and to feel things fully and unapologetically. 

So thank you, Taylor, for giving me (and millions of Girls’ Life readers) the space to be real, raw and honest—and for walking us through life, one era at a time. 

@oneillkat

Hey, girl! Just wanted to let you know that this story originally ran in our August/ September 2024 issue. Want more? Read the print mag for free *today* when you click HERE!

Top artwork by Dayat Banggai.

by Kathleen O'Neill | 9/1/2024