The Girl in the Dress Wrote You a Song

On Speak Now (Taylor's Version) and Revisiting Your Inner Teenager

I was 15 years old when Taylor Swift dropped Speak Now in 2010. And man, was I an unforgiving teenager. My Dad likes to remind me that I had a phase where I denounced Taylor Swift. Her songs would come on the radio and I would give an “ew, who’s Taylor Swift anyways?” Ironic, considering I was a huge fan during her self-titled album (known to fans as Debut) and the Fearless era. I had even met her when she herself was only 16 and performing for crowds for the first time. My anti-TS phase occurred mainly during the Speak Now era, which in some ways feels appropriate given everything we know about this album. It is stunningly defiant.

Speak Now is Swift’s only album without co-writers. Responding to criticism that she didn’t actually write her own music, she gave a big ol’ Nashville fuck you to critics by dropping an album of entirely solo-written content. Swift shares with us that these songs were written from the time she was 18-20 years old, experiencing massive fame, a star-studded career breakout from the Fearless album (Album of the Year winner at the 2010 Grammys), and living on her own for the first time.

In preparation for Speak Now (Taylor’s Version), the re-record of the 2010 album in response to Scooter Braun’s acquisition of her masters, to be released on July 7th, I explored my own historical dislike of this album. Without a doubt, it is one of the bigger fan-favorite albums, despite not reaching the kind of critical acclaim that albums like Red, 1989, and much later, Midnights achieved. In reading through the online Taylor Swift forums, it was abundantly clear that next to Red, the re-record of Speak Now was one of the most fan-awaited moments of this period of re-releases. Those who fell in love with this album when it originally released speak to feeling seen as a young girl themselves. So, what gives? Why didn’t I feel that way as a teenager?

Much of the reason I love Swift as an artist comes from the fact that I’ve grown up with her. Debut gave me the confidence to burn the pictures of my middle school crushes. Fearless came out just as I was entering high school. I was iffy on Red when it came out, but despite acting like I still didn’t love TS, I was listening to All Too Well on my drives home when no one was looking. 1989 was with me in 2015 when I lived in a major city for the first time. Her reputation album walked me through a time where I felt insular and misunderstood, but also where I experienced some of the most intense love of my life so far. Even now, I let Midnights become my afternoons as I inch towards turning 30 and taking stock of how (for better or for worse) all of my decisions have landed me where I am now.

The only language I’ve ever been able to land on as to why Speak Now never spoke to me is that she sounds so young. Truly, when you listen to the original album with the voice of a young woman singing about breaking up weddings, feeling haunted by ex’s, fearing growing up, and sparks flying, you’re struck with how naive the narrator seems. Though, at 28, that naivety feels endearing in a way it didn’t when I was living through it myself. Often, I attribute people’s dislike of Swift’s music to the fact that she tends to put a mirror up to the listener’s face. When I listened to Speak Now when it came out, I’d think of how young she sounded, and I rejected the idea that I, at 15, also sounded that young and naive. I rejected the mirror that was placed in front of my own face. I wanted to believe I was above it all, older than I actually was, and wiser beyond my years. But I wasn’t.

Now, I listen to vault tracks like When Emma Falls in Love and remember what it felt like to think things like, “And to tell you the truth, sometimes I wish I was her.” Swift gives credence to the dreams and fears of a young teenage girl in Speak Now. With her mature vocals and updated production, it’s like an older sister hugging her teenager sibling and saying “I know you don’t believe me, but it really will all be okay.” Speak Now, for all its heartbreak, is also full of comfort.

I can’t promise that Speak Now will ever be my favorite Swift album (I’m a pop girlie, okay?), but I can see why many feel a connection to it. Speak Now feels like it sits on the precipice of adulthood, but has one foot back in your youth. It’s that moment where you can feel yourself being propelled into the “real world,” but with the princess fantasies of a young girl held tight in your hand.

While listening to Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) this weekend, I am reminded to go easy on your inner teenager. My own was desperately trying to figure out where she fit in. One song I really loved, to no one’s surprise, was Mean. I envisioned myself looking back at all the people who didn’t want to be associated with me in high school and telling them off with “someday, I’ll be living in a big ol’ city, and all you’re ever gonna be is mean.”

In belting that out while unpacking my new apartment in Boston, MA, this weekend, I’ve felt struck by how proud my teenage self would be by the woman I’ve become. She would never believe what we’ve accomplished - the educational opportunities I’ve had, the jobs I’ve found, and the incredible friends I’ve met who have found me a place in this world. I can’t help but think that Taylor Swift herself might be having this moment right now, too. A taking stock of how your young self would be so proud of how you’re shining like fireworks over ‘someone’s’ sad empty town. In that way, I hope that this can be my make-up Speak Now era, where I can unabashedly belt the songs about being enchanted to meet you and getting back at your ex’s current girlfriend without fear that I’m not being “cool enough.” I’m embracing what I know now that my 15 year old self didn’t know in 2010 - that it’s okay to act your age, to not know how the story will end, and to dream impossible dreams.

Honestly, I wish I could’ve just been myself when I was 15. Maybe I would’ve saved myself several years of confusion and rifts in my personal life. I’d go back in time to change it, but I can’t. But this weekend, with Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) I join millions of other fans as we go back to 2010 and give our teenage selves a much-needed hug. In many ways, Speak Now will always be Timeless.