Head first, Fearless

Can't you see that I'm the one who understands me?

Shabbat Shalom. In this week’s Torah portion, God said to Moses, “And all the children of Israel, for all of eternity, will be insecure about their appearance.”

Good morning. It is Saturday April 10th, and it’s been one full day since Taylor Swift released her “Fearless” album re-recorded and the Pentagon announced its new military spending budget. I don’t know which release I was more excited for, as both will impact my life significantly. In all seriousness, I came here today to talk about the formative years of my youth. The golden years, middle school.

According to her Wikipedia page, I went to see my first concert ever, Taylor Swift’s Fearless tour, on either June 1st or 2nd 2010. In that last sentence I did what folks are calling a “dangling modifier.”  You’re not supposed to do them in English but I love to be a crazy party girl who breaks rules. June 1st was exactly a month after my Bat Mitzvah, so one month into my full adult life. After I dropped the kids off at school me and my friends Jess and Maxi went to the Verizon Center, bursting with excitement. The arena was full of hopeful, loud, fun-loving 12-15 year old girls. As Moses would say, my people. We had a great time from what I remember and I left with a t-shirt that is now “so cool and vintage” according to my 14 year old sister.

Yesterday, I listened to the Fearless album re-record all the way through. I listened to the lyrics I heard 11 years ago, 11 years later. I’m in a different place now than I was in 2010. She sounded different too, of course. Her voice is more matured, maybe a bit deeper. She’s an adult now, as am I, according to science. Taylor Swift mastered the art of relatability. “You Belong with Me” was my anthem, as a chubby funny kid who was more likely to make you laugh than make you want to take me on a date to Barnes and Noble. My whole middle school life I had unrequited loves and likes and it often made me feel like what I was doing was not enough. That I should try to be more normal and put more effort into my appearance to catch the eye of a wandering 9th grade boy. Why did I insist on the gold sparkly Uggs and not the brown ones that everyone else had? She wears high heels, I wear gold sparkly Uggs I guess.

So much of her album is about wanting to fit in, wanting to be loved, wanting to be accepted and cherished and adored. Those are feelings we have throughout our lives but they feel especially potent as we’re coming of age. I listen to the lyrics now, 11 years later, and I get a little sad. “When you’re 15 and somebody tells you they love you, you’re gonna believe them.” When I was 15 I wanted a boy to tell me he loved me, and when none of them did I felt like I was doing something wrong. The point is, I spent a lot of time waiting for that love that I lost focus on loving myself. If that last line was too cheesy for you, I have bad news. I’m entering my cheese phase of my life. I’m eating cheese for the first time in since my disordered eating started 7 years ago and it’s having effects on my state of mind.

Taylor babe, if you’re reading this, I do not mean to call you out. Your lyrics are beautiful and you are a gifted storyteller. And I related to you a lot. But I wish I spent less of my formative years forming myself in terms of how I wanted to be seen by others. 

“So why can’t you see, you belong with me.”

That was me for years. Why can’t they see? Don’t they know I’m smart and funny and their parents will love me? Haven’t they seen the beautiful cakes and brownies I make? What’s wrong with me? I never asked those questions to myself. I never asked if I could see myself. And nobody can see you until you see yourself. I have to remind myself of that even today. That’s right, dear readers, I’m not as confident as you think I am. I did improv and standup and I share my thoughts on a public platform once a week but I still get sad at night. I still want public validation and I’m still so hard on myself.

My Bat Mitzvah was May 1st, 2010. I wore a red strapless dress, held in place by my flat chest. I had my hair done and had new clear bands put on my glass braces. I felt the most beautiful I had ever felt. And I was “in love” with the boy I was doing my service with. But at my party, a friend of mine had her first kiss under the chicken fingers station, and I didn’t. I still remember hearing about it and wondering, was she prettier than me? Who wouldn’t want to kiss me on my big day? I later realized I was probably busy making small talk with the table full of my Grandma’s friends, which was better for my comedy career in the long run anyway.

I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 17. I spent years actually being unable to relate to any of Ms. Swifts melodies because I did not yet have the privilege of a love to then feel the loss. But what a privilege it was to have me. Shabbat Shalom.