Why Your Swifty Friends Get So Mad When You Diss Taylor
Spoiler Alert: it's not about Miss Swift. It's much more personal than that.
If you’re reading this, you are either:
A. a Swifty, and are itching to see if I’ve captured your experience well enough to blast this to every Swift-skeptic in your life, or —
b. a Taylor Hater, who has just received this via DM from your most Taylor-obsessed friend or co-worker.
If you’re the latter, let me make my position clear, since “Swifty” can evoke a broad range of images: on the sliding scale of Swifty-dom - 1 being, “Sure, I know Love Story,” and 10 being, “She sneezed three times during her dinner out with Travis so there’s an album coming out on March 3rd,” - I fall somewhere in the middle.
I adore her music. If you play me one of those TikTok compilations, I’ll likely know every single word. I screamed so loud at the Eras Tour my throat burned for 3 days. I’m a Folklore Rising with a Midnights Moon. “You’re On Your Own, Kid” never fails to bring me to tears.
That said - I could not care less about her personal life. I’m not stalking her Instagram page, desperate to piece together easter eggs about when Taylor’s Version of Reputation will drop. (That said, when it does, please don’t bother me for one-to-two business days.) I own a T-Swift sweatshirt and an oversized tee that I sometimes wear to sleep - but not the series of corresponding Cardigans that she’s dropped for every album. In short: I’m a solid, level 5-6 Swifty, and like all Swifties, I have found myself on the receiving end of plenty of Anti-Taylor-Slander.
“You Swifties always get so defensive!” My friends will say any time I push back against the Taylor hate. And it’s true: we do. I’ve found myself in heated, borderline hostile debates about Miss Swift’s music, her persona, even her outfit choices with some of my nearest and dearest. I’ve thought long and hard about what makes this objectively benign topic so touchy, and after some deep introspection/old-school deadline procrastination, I think I’ve finally found an answer.
Your Swifty friends don’t get mad because we think Taylor Swift is some sort of perfect, untouchable siren - that she can do no wrong, or that every bridge she writes is God’s gift to music.
It’s something much more personal than that.
Let’s start with what is, in my opinion, the single most valid criticism one can have of Taylor Alison Swift:
“I just don’t care for her music.”
Boom! Zero follow up questions. That is a perfectly valid opinion, and I will never force you to listen to “Wildest Dreams” on full blast in the car with me. You’re allowed to dislike her music - even hate her music if it’s not your taste.
…However.
That is rarely the critique.
More often than not, the conversation starts with a fundamental attack on her artistry. The implication that “she’s not a real artist”, despite captivating millions of people from around the world since she was sixteen-years-old. When you resist - “I think she’s one of our greatest living artists” - there’s a swift (yes, ha-ha) and harsh response:
“But she’s not even a good singer.”
What? She’s a very good singer! But more importantly: that’s not the only metric of a great musician. Sure, she’s not Whitney Houston, but that’s not her gift. She’s a brilliant songwriter.
This inevitably evokes a cringe.
“She just writes the same thing over and over again. It’s always about her love life.”
Well, then, you must not be familiar with her body of work. Folklore and Evermore are full-on concept albums exploring the lives of completely fictional characters. She writes about family, friendships, death, the literal Battle of Guadalcanal. Even “Shake It Off” is about not listening to her loudest critics.
This is hardly met with, “Oh! I should probably check out more of her work, then!”
Instead, the criticisms begin to shape-shift.
“Yeah, but all of her songs sound the same.”
What about the three genre shifts? She’s co-written songs with Ed Sheeran, Bon Iver, Imogen Heap, Lana Del Rey, The National, Brendon Urie, Haim…all of which are fiercely different artists.
“Sure, but everything she does is so calculated.”
“She’s not nearly outspoken enough.”
“All she cares about is money.”
“All she cares about is fame.”
“If she does speak out, she’s only doing it for attention.”
“Does she have to put out so much music? Let someone else shine for once!”
The list goes on and on, each rebuke a pivot away from the previous point. People who dislike Taylor Swift rarely have a consistent reason for hating her - it’s a morphing, moving target; a void that’s immediately filled by the critique-du-jour. And perhaps most significantly: it’s always dripping with disrespect.
By every single quantifiable metric, Taylor Swift has proven to be one of The Greats. Whether you measure success in Grammys/awards, Hits, longevity, musical exploration and growth, an ability to connect with people…She’s done it all, and then some. Yet for the Swift Haters among us, placing her in the Pantheon of “legendary musicians” evokes something akin to rage; righteous indignation, even. How dare you speak her name alongside Carole King! Even though Carole herself identifies as a Swifty. You simply can’t compare Taylor to Paul McCartney!! Never mind that Paul was belting out “But Daddy I Love Him” at the Era’s tour, trading friendship bracelets with the crowd. Stevie Nicks wrote the forward to Tortured Poet’s Department; Bruce Springsteen has called her a tremendous writer. But none of these totems of legitimization seem to shake the fundamental problem:
“There’s just something about her I do not like.”
It’s vibes based, and for those of us who deeply resonate with Taylor, this can feel like a personal attack. We are not upset that you dislike Taylor’s music, or don’t resonate with her as a pop-star, or that “Cowboy Like Me” doesn’t bring you to your knees.
We’re hurt that the thing you seem to dislike in her is something that exists deep within us.
Taylor Swift touches all the tender, open-wound parts of me that I desperately tried to hide when I was a girl. The parts that were frivolous and boy obsessed; that cared about being pretty and who wanted to wear red lipstick. Who was Team Edward and loved useless magazine quizzes and would sing for way-too-long in the boiling shower, assaulting my poor parents’ water bill. Who would rather rewatch “When Harry Met Sally” on a loop than sit through “The Godfather Part Two” twice in a row, there, I said it!!!
In so many ways, Taylor is just-like-other-girls — and “just-like-other-girls” aren’t supposed to be taken seriously. Rom-coms shouldn’t win best picture. Beach Reads are not real literature. “Feminine” art has always been considered trite, and when it’s paired with something that’s popular? It’s begging to be dismissed. That said, when you call our most profound pleasures “guilty” or “basic”, it’s hard not to feel shame about who we fundamentally are. The art we love is a mirror that reflects our most private selves. When someone rejects it? It’s easy to feel shattered.
Now: am I saying that Taylor Swift is simply beyond reproach, and that any critique of her is just internalized misogyny? Of course not. As a (probable) human being, she will make mistakes publicly, say cringy shit and even release music that is - GASP! - not great. Everyone’s allowed to judge her work honestly and brutally, whether you’re a dyed-in-the-wool fan or a day-one hater. I’m also well aware that level-10 Swifties are terrifying. You are right to fear them - they should probably be in jail. But when your bright-eyed, levels 1-8 Swifty friends are inevitably glowing from the release of Reputation T.V. (again: one to two business days), consider this before you roll your eyes:
We’re not asking you to join our cult. (Although you should really just come to an introduction meeting, if you don’t like it, you can leave, I promise!!!) We’re asking that you not call our joy simple or stupid. To acknowledge that while T-Swift may not be your cup of tea, she deserves genuine respect. And perhaps most of all: to recognize that she represents something much bigger than sequined costumes, or friendship bracelets, or a song that may-or-may-not be about Joe Jonas.
She’s a celebration of our girlhood.
And you know what? She does write a killer fucking bridge.