Miss Americana and the Heartbreak of Becoming
I went from having an overall positive view of Taylor Swift to essentially falling in love with her in the space of an hour and 25 minutes.
The documentary Miss Americana provides an important look at Swift and the growth she’s undergone to become the person she is now. It was shot over 2 years, starting from the Reputation era and ending around the release of her seventh studio album; Lover. It provides an important behind the scenes look at the emotions and events that inspired the two albums, as different as they are. As is to be expected, we get to see Swift’s creative writing process and footage from her concerts. Unexpectedly though, the film goes beyond that with focus ultimately being placed on Taylor Swift’s personal and mental growth over those years. As an adolescent currently navigating the growing pains of early adulthood, I saw parts of my struggle in hers; it was like seeing how a friend dealt with the very things you’re grappling with. Except that friend happens to be an award-winning musician who’s been in the spotlight for more than half her life.
To me, this documentary gives a fascinating look at the events that guided Taylor Swift’s journey of becoming herself, out loud [no matter how cliché or snowflake-y that might sound]. As a young person navigating some similar things, it’s really encouraging to have her be so open and honest about the whole thing. It’s an odd phenomenon to grow up at the same time as some of your favourite celebrities but it’s also uplifting.
“You know, my entire moral code, as a kid and now, is a need to be thought of as good. That’s dangerous. It was all I wrote about. It was all I wanted. It was the complete and total…belief system that I subscribed to as a kid. Do the right thing. Do the good thing. And obviously, I’m not a perfect person by any stretch, but overall, the main thing that I always tried to be was… um… like, just…like, a good girl.”
Lana Wilson, [the director] chose to draw us in with these words, spoken as Swift fondly looks over her childhood journals in the comfort of her home. As a friend would share intimate details of their life, she shares the deep desire she’s always felt to be a ‘good person’. This leads us to what I believe to be the core theme of ‘Miss Americana’ – an ideal that would become a pathological need for external validation. This I understand. Maybe more than I want to. Growing up in the church and going through who knows how many years of sunday schools leaves in you a visceral desire to be perceived as a ‘good person’. Whatever that means.
I’ve lived a lot of my life wanting to be seen as ‘good’ and because I didn’t understand how to define that for myself, I listened to the voices around me for a definition. Seeking out guidance isn’t a bad thing in itself, but for me [and as this documentary points out, Taylor Swift], having external forces be your only barometer for what good is can morph into a habitual desire of living for acknowledgement, external affirmation and adoration. After many years of living like this, I found that my sense of worth was based on these same factors. Which works perfectly fine, until the moments where that adorationa and affirmation was absent.
“But when you're living for the approval of strangers... and that is where you derive all of your joy and fulfilment, one bad thing can cause everything to crumble.”
It was in the moments where I wasn’t actively listening to outside opinions, or honestly when I’d failed and didn’t ‘deserve’ that adoration that I discovered the power and strength in my own voice. It may sound nonsensical to be astounded that I could think for myself only when it was silent, but at the time, this was a breakthrough. In comparing my journey to Swift’s I need to point out that my experiences were less public and involved less media scrutiny but all the same, I can relate to feeling betrayed by the voices I had leant on. In the same breath, I can understand refusing to navigate that betrayal and instead focusing your energy on proving yourself to those same voices. Unpacking and deconstructing your belief systems – the things that define you – takes a lot of work that at many stages of my life I just wasn’t ready to undergo.
“… I was so obsessed with not getting in trouble, that I was like, "I'm just not gonna do anything that anyone could say anything about. "I'm just getting... I'm just... I'm getting to the point where I can't... listen to people telling me, "No, stay out of it. Stay out of it."”
Swift describes her lowest point and moment of reckoning to be when even with seven witnesses and a photo, she had to fight to be believed by a jury about being sexually assaulted. Though she doesn’t consider it a win, she is shown to be incredibly grateful for the moment that inspired her to be a more vocal and active ally for those who can’t fight for themselves in our society.
Here is where our paths diverge, because though the past few years of my life have taught me the same lessons, it’s happened in different circumstances. In early 2017 I essentially moved out of my parent’s house [for 9 months of the year anyway] to a new city, to pursue my tertiary education. Though the circles I established were similar to those I had existed in, I found myself much more aware of how little I knew about people and the world. With discovering new worldviews and growing up came an evolving in my beliefs, ideals and some of my core values. Rather than automatically subscribing to the narrative that says I’m becoming too opinionated, I like to believe that my evolving has to do with existing in much wider circles than I ever have. With that comes the side of effect of suddenly caring about people, deeply, sometimes loudly as God calls us to.
“But a nice girl doesn't force their opinions on people. A nice girl smiles and waves and says thank you. A nice girl doesn't make people feel uncomfortable with her views.”
As she discusses the motivations behind her political vocality, we're shown an old interview during which Swift timidly tells a talk show host, “It’s my right to vote, but it’s not my right to tell other people what to do.” This, along with the nice girl narrative that's been used to encourage silence and complacency are concepts I'm sadly all too familiar with. About half an hour later, we're shown Swift tearfully pleading with her management team to allow her to speak regarding the upcoming local elections. Not to spoil anything for you, but she does end up speaking out, and though it doesn't go as she expected, there's still a spark of hope there for her that certainly wasn't there before. As a Christian who was raised in conservative circles then adopted some liberal views as she grew, I can relate to feeling trapped by a world that has no patience for young people raising their voices but also knowing I can't just 'stay out of it' any longer.
One of the hardest things to come to terms with as we grow older is in my opinion, the heartbreak that comes with becoming. Becoming. Like not still where you used to be but also not quite where you want to be. This is because there’s a lot of misconception on the receiving end of sharing the causes you care about. Many refuse to listen or choose to shout in response, saying you’re forcing your views on them. For me, and I’m assuming for Taylor as well, speaking out about the injustices we see and the causes we care about isn’t about forcing our views on people. It’s about being forces for good, and about becoming the people we needed when we were younger. It also comes as a side effect of no longer caring about the narrative that’s pushed on us by people, and about defining what ‘good’ is for ourselves. In a way separate from the pursuit of validation.
When I was younger I wanted to be a spy, or an Olympic gymnast. If you were to ask me what I want to be when I grow up now, my answer would probably be someone who can find happiness simply because she’s happy. A person who only needs to hear well done from the one who created her.
“I want to love glitter and also stand up for the double standards that exist in our society. I want to wear pink and tell you how I feel about politics. And I don’t think that those things have to cancel each other out.”
As I’ve grown and lost the naivety that comes with childhood, I’ve developed a vocal frustration with ‘the church’. I’m not sure if I’m heartbroken, or frustrated or sad or somewhere in between these emotions. All I’m sure of is that I have a lot of feelings, and I’m not quite sure what to do with them in this context. Hear me out here, I love the body of Christ and what it stands for, but I’m growing discouraged by how eagerly this community will support a person, or an idea, or sometimes an injustice simply because it’s been labelled as standing for Christian values. On a big picture scale, we as a group forget to look past appearances, instead falling for words that have been strung together well. In other situations, we choose to be silent, having determined that for us this isn’t a battle worth fighting. It’s in actions like these where the ‘church’ as an organisation has abandoned the lost, the needy, the helpless and the suffering. As a black immigrant woman living in a world that wasn’t necessarily designed for her, I’ve been the person tearfully crying as Swift does, “I’m a Christian. That’s not what we stand for” in the wake of many a scandal.
Much like Miss Americana herself, I’m still learning about myself, and I’m still finding my voice. That’s less of an excuse to be silent when something needs to be said and more of a reminder to let myself navigate this at whatever pace I need to. There’s this weird expectation for me to fit into whatever box sections of my personality fit into, but to be honest I’m still trying to figure some of that out myself. There’s also the temptation for me to be cynical at the church or the world but I’m trying to not end up there. Instead, I’m trying to balance understanding that we live in a broken world with kindness, and working to make it a little better for someone with courage. I don’t believe that you can do much to change a world you’ve given up on so I’m holding on.
