On the edge of a dark forest, a willow tree sits motionless with its limbs coated lightly in fresh snow. The only light that glistens off the tree’s thin branches comes from a waxing moon, crescent in shape, but bright as it fights against the earth’s shadow. The snow blanketing the field is untouched and glows white, reflecting the light of the moon in the same, silent way that the willow does. The only movement comes from beneath the snow’s surface as a stream of gold trickles unnoticed down the willow’s bark, over its exposed roots, and deep into the forest.
The peace is broken by the heavy steps of a hooded figure. She appeared without a trace, leaving the snow in her wake as pristine as ever. Despite being barefoot and in an unfamiliar realm, she walks with purpose, following the golden rivulet right into the forest where the snow melts away and the ground becomes frozen dirt. As she walks, she keeps her head low and the sword she wields in her right hand, down at her side. Always ready.
The deeper the woman journeys into the woods, the louder the trees become as they whisper to her stories of the forest’s past explorers. She endures the heartache of a rejected marriage proposal, the throes of mental illness, the grief of a mourning granddaughter, and the fury of infidelity. She grips the hilt of her sword as this pain envelops her chest, blurring the golden stream she’s trying to follow until it disappears altogether and in its place, she finds a single red rose. The stem splits the ground like a crack in a champagne flute, growing where only magic could allow it to sprout.
She ponders this for a moment before plucking the stem from the ground. From the crack, ivy appears in copious amounts, reaching across the forest floor in front of her. She watches it as it grows rapidly, raising her gaze until she sees the vines climb the stairs leading up to the porch of a cabin. As she acknowledges the cabin that wasn’t there just a minute before, the windows illuminate and invite her in. With a smile, she pads across the ivy-strewn earth, leaves her sword in the bushes by the stairs, and enters the cabin’s peaceful glow.
Below is a collection of stories that could be heard in that forest, recounted by Taylor Swift.
willow
Anonymous:
I fell in love with my husband, knowing my parents would not approve (we have an age difference). I couldn’t not fall in love with him. We’ve been married almost 4 years, I’m a stepmom to his two amazing boys, and he’s the first person in my life to treat me like a queen.
I’m begging for you to take my hand
Wreck my plans, that’s my man
Because I married him, I lost my “relationship” with my parents. They were very emotionally abusive my entire life and I honestly had no idea until I was grown. So yeah, he wrecked my plans in the best way because now I’m safe. I lost some “friends” and “family,” but I gained so much more.
champagne problems
Natasha Preston:
This song hit me hard, especially in the bridge. I deal with anxiety, OCD, and depression, which has affected every relationship I have been in. Whether it be as extreme as in my first relationship when I was told in the breakup that I was too depressed and needed to get help; or in a shorter dating period when my anxiety made me question everything and caused him to back away; or in my last relationship, when my anxiety became such a problem, he broke up with me because of the “difference in our temperaments”—and yes that is exactly what he wrote.
“This dorm was once a madhouse”
I made a joke, “Well, it’s made for me”
How evergreen, our group of friends
Don’t think we’ll say that word again
Since every one of my relationships has ended in these ways, I find it really hard to think of a new relationship. Each time I start seeing someone, I wonder when or how my mental illness will mess it up. There have been times when I truly wonder if I will ever get married like my friends are starting to do now, because I don’t see how someone could marry me with these issues. I am in therapy and I’m trying different solutions, but there is part of me worried I will always feel like this. With my last breakup, I told a friend, “maybe, I am just not meant for love, which is a shame because there’s nothing I want more than to love someone.”
“She would’ve made such a lovely bride
What a shame she’s fucked in the head,” they said
The term “champagne problems” is defined as a problem that seems trivial in the grand scheme of the world. Which I think is how many people view mental health. They will say, ‘oh, but you have a job and a home, you should feel happy because of that,” which completely trivializes real mental health issues as “champagne problems.” Even some of the people I have dated I think do not understand how much they affected me, which is part of the issue and feeling misunderstood.
You won’t remember all my
Champagne problems
tolerate it
Alexis K:
When my ex and I first bought our house, we didn’t have a lot of money, we had barely any furniture, and the house itself looked really dated. I bought some power tools and taught myself how to make furniture and do DIY projects around the house. I really turned the house around. I spent so much time, effort, and money to make our house look nice and I never asked for help. Every time I finished a project, I would be so excited to show him and his reaction was always just a monotone “nice.”
I wait by the door like I’m just a kid
Use my best colors for your portrait
Lay the table with the fancy shit
And watch you tolerate it
I had been trying my hardest to make him happy and impress him, and all he did was tolerate it, and I wanted someone to celebrate my accomplishments with me.
happiness
Deanna Myrie:
I get that ‘happiness’ is about a breakup, but I actually relate it to the loss of my dad. I teared up the first time I listened. I feel like it’s teaching me that I can still be happy, even though he’s not here; and I can still be me, I just have to learn to do it in a different world. It’s coming up on nine years and I’m still trying to find my footing.
There’ll be happiness after you
But there was happiness because of you
Both of these things can be true
There is happiness
~
Natasha Preston:
Five years ago, I was in my first relationship. We lasted just under a year, and it was fast and passionate and ended for me out of nowhere leaving me heartbroken. The weekend before we broke up, everything felt normal and we were making pizza, watching movies, and for many weeks before, I didn’t suspect a thing.
I was dancing when the music stopped
And in the disbelief, I can’t face reinvention
I haven’t met the new me yet
Before the breakup, it really felt like I was still loving him when he stopped loving me, but I was the fool because I didn’t realize he’d shut off the music. This verse is exactly how I see myself at that moment after he took his bike out of my apartment in Los Angeles when I was left alone to cry. I was so scared of what would happen next, I couldn’t even think of a version of me that did not include him.
However, this song is stuck between both the past and the future, and then the present. “I haven’t met the new me yet” strikes me hard now five years later. It feels like I am almost above the trees trying to tell my younger self that the new me is doing okay.
There’ll be happiness after you
But there was happiness because of you, too
Both of these things can be true
There is happiness
The main chorus feels like it’s something out of conversations I have with my therapist. I have a hard time with my anxiety allowing dualities—the fact that both the thoughts of “I was happy in that relationship” paired with “but I am also happy now” is something I have struggled with. For me, it’s either everything was amazing in the past but sucks now, or vice versa. Allowing both to exist at once is where I have healed.
I can’t make it go away by making you a villain
I guess it’s the price I paid for seven years in Heaven
And I pulled your body into mine
Every goddamn night, now I get fake niceties
No one teaches you what to do
When a good man hurts you
And you know you hurt him, too
Now, I can remember Arizona Springs with him at Renaissance Faires and climbing through rocks with a happy remembrance, but I also see that as the past and find happy moments in my present life. Years after the breakup, I told myself he was a terrible person and that is why I got hurt. But the truth is, while he did have faults and did hurt me, he can also be a good person.
All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness
You haven’t met the new me yet
And I think she’ll give you that
I haven’t seen him since that night of our breakup. I always wondered what would happen if we saw each other again because part of me wonders if he thinks I am still mad. And this final moment of the song hit me so hard because it made me realize I do forgive him. I never thought I would, but I do. This is the new me I hadn’t met that night he left, and it’s the new me who would forgive him. This is what ‘happiness’ means to me now, and I am so grateful Taylor has given me this realization.
dorothea
Madeline Montgomery:
My boyfriend of 3 years and I lived in separate states at the beginning of our relationship. I lived in Memphis, TN and he lived in Birmingham, AL. We were both from Michigan originally and had been moved to those locations for work and felt pretty isolated without each other. This was a tough time being separated, but it was also during that early honeymoon stage of our relationship. We were seeing each other every other weekend, alternating who was coming to who.
Tupelo, Mississippi, which is mentioned in ‘dorothea,’ is about halfway between Memphis and Birmingham. I didn’t tell him, but reaching Tupelo on my drives was always a little bittersweet to me. When I was going TO him, it made me happy knowing I was getting close, and when I was leaving it felt like that threshold where I was crossing to feel so far away from him. Time passed and we both live together in Michigan, but I still sometimes think of that time in the south and the feeling of getting to Tupelo and the different things the city would mean in our relationship.
We spoke about it recently and turns out he had the same feelings about Tupelo that I did. We are still very happy together, but we have been through a lot since our time in the south. We didn’t know how we were going to work out or if we would ever be able to live less than 3.5 hours away, but we knew we loved each other, and reaching Tupelo would always make our hearts race knowing we were getting close, then subsequently make them break knowing we were leaving.
The stars in your eyes shined brighter in Tupelo
And if you’re ever tired of bеing known for who you know
You know, you’ll always know me, Dorothea
The days of us in Tupelo sometimes feel like another life, good friends we only see in pictures now, which in a way is similar to what Taylor was saying in the song.
ivy
CNS:
My high school and college boyfriend was and is my one true love. No one and nothing can compare to what we had. Long story short, I fucked things up when I was too young and naive to know what I had. I am married with kids now to a wonderful man, but before we got engaged, I sent my first love a letter. I asked him if we could ever be together again, and if so, I would meet him and we could talk about it. He said he needed to move on with his life and try to be fair to his relationship at the time. I decided that was my cue to try to move on and I did try.
Last year, we connected for a long time on his birthday when my husband was traveling for work. We watched a Bon Iver live show together (our favorite musical artist) and it started a sort of secret, emotional affair. He told me that night that he always regretted his response to my letter. He lives in NYC and then when COVID hit, things got pretty intense. We would end things over and over to only rekindle them again, me being just as in love with him as I was before. We decided it wasn’t healthy for either of us and we’ve slowly put walls up between us as well as curtailed almost all communication.
My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand
Taking mine, but it’s been promised to another
Oh, I can’t
Stop you putting roots in my dreamland
My house of stone, your ivy grows
And now I’m covered in you
It breaks my heart every day. I dream about him three to four nights a week, and when I wake up, I always feel a sense of hope—but then reality sets in. ‘Ivy’ is the most heart-wrenching song on this album, for obvious reasons. My pain fitting into the palm of his freezing hands takes me back to the days we had long goodbyes outside of my house; him being rooted in my dreamland; my house is even covered in ivy at the bottom and along the walls of my driveway. It’s such an eerie thing to feel like a song is about you! Then the ending of ‘evermore’ guts me as well, that moment she’s waking from a dream—she can’t be sure, but she feels like she may be able to hope.
~
Rosie W-W:
I gave birth to my first child last December (evermore was released on her first birthday.) It’s been a hard year, the birth and aftermath were very traumatic and left me with PTSD and postnatal depression. ‘Invisible string’ became our song, me and my daughter tied together despite all the pain, and it was all worth it.
How’s one to know?
I’d meet you where the spirit meets the bones
In a faith forgotten land
That opening line gave me the same feeling as ‘invisible string,’ of meeting someone new and knowing you’re meant to be despite the difficulties that led you there. There’s no greater descriptor I’ve found for the love I have for my daughter than:
Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow
Tarnished but so grand
Postnatal depression made me feel broken, guilty, incapable, but despite it all, she lit a fire in my heart, a goddamn blaze in the dark, and put roots in my dreamland by providing an anchor for me in the most bizarre year.
Oh, and my daughter’s name? Ivy.
cowboy like me
Madeline Montgomery:
I met my boyfriend when I took a job I thought sounded exciting, where I would be moved all over the country to travel around to clients and I would get a company car. My major motivation for taking the job was thinking it would be really cool to have my job give me a car and to have a job where I could travel and make my own schedule.
Never wanted love
Just a fancy car
Now I’m waiting by the phone
Like I’m sitting in an airport bar
It ended up really not being that cool. I met my boyfriend when we were in the same group of trainees for the job. So, I literally wasn’t looking for love, just a fancy car. We’re not con artists, but I think the song has a lot of relevance to us and our relationship.
long story short
Tiffany:
For the past 6 years, I had a string of dramatic relationships, unhealthy friendships, and lots of destructive behaviors that just kept getting worse and worse. Then, it finally all came crashing down after an ex became extremely violent and everything could have ended right there. But, I finally got out, started seeing that there was more to life than being scared and sad, and finally started living a little. I’ve been with someone for a while now who is wonderful, I’m taking care of my mental health, and as stressed and crazy as life is during a pandemic, I’m actually doing pretty good.
Cause I fell from the pedestal
Right down the rabbit hole
Long story short, it was a bad time
~
Patricia Armstrong:
I was always involved in so much drama growing up and I wish I could go back in time to tell myself then, “Girl, don’t stress about this now because everyone is going to see the truth!” Which they did!
Past me
I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things
Your nemeses
Will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing
marjorie
Allison T:
I was very, very close to my paternal grandmother. She was the strong female role model I needed when my mom refused to be. I would always stop by her house on my way to and from college to sit at her kitchen table and talk for hours about anything and everything. She passed away in 2015, and while it was heartbreaking when it happened, I feel her with me constantly. In my lowest moments, I feel her embracing me, and I think of her words often. I wear her ring every day and I feel her energy in the air when I’m outside sometimes.
What died didn’t stay dead
I love how it feels to miss her because it means I had her. ‘marjorie’ captures this feeling perfectly. I feel my grandmother’s love in the lyrics, and it helps me feel her all around me.
~
Heather Saldana:
I lost my mother in February of this year and I have been missing her so deeply. When I heard ‘marjorie,’ it touched me so much. She took over for my grandma who sang to everyone on their birthday. My birthday just passed in November and not getting her call this year was so hard, but in my heart, I know she was with me, singing happy birthday. ‘Marjorie’ came into my life when I needed it. Thank you, Taylor, for such a beautiful song.
And if I didn’t know better
I’d think you were singing to me now
~
Chelsea:
I was 6 or 7 when my mom signed over custody to her parents so she could get clean from her addiction. I spent the next two or three years in the care of my grandparents, and they are the happiest and clearest memories of my childhood. My grandmother raised me as a fourth daughter. She taught me to be polite and kind first. To think of others and never be rude. She taught me to be respectful and understanding. She taught me patience. She read me books every night before bed and comforted me when I was afraid I’d never learn to read. I moved to Massachusetts with my mom (who is now 22 years sober) when I was in 4th grade but still spent summers and holidays with my grandparents.
Never be so politе
You forget your power
Nevеr wield such power
You forget to be polite
My grandmother saw me walk in my college graduation, the first in my family. When I called her crying that I couldn’t afford grad school one afternoon, she helped pay for a semester. And she welcomed my amazing boyfriend with open arms into the family, the first male we’ve had since my grandpa passed in 2010. Seriously, even the dogs were girls.
In 2015 she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and dementia. Last month, her doctors updated her to the “moderate” stage of the disease. She doesn’t usually know me, now. She knows I belong to her, but that’s about it. Somehow, she still knows who my boyfriend is, which brings me amazing warmth and happiness.
I should’ve asked you questions
I should’ve asked you how to be
Asked you to write it down for me
Should’ve kept every grocery store receipt
‘Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me
‘Marjorie’ hit me hard. It’s like the perfect description of a moment of clarity for those with Alzheimer’s. My grandmother is one of the most important figures in my life and as usual, Taylor really nailed that one down. I still hear her voice in my head telling me how to act or what I should do.
I know better
But you’re still around
~
Natasha Preston:
In the spring of my senior year, I was driving from my small college in Ohio to Louisville to audition for an acting apprenticeship. At that point in my life, getting this job was all I wanted and dreamed of. I also was terrified of my future; my whole life had been split into semesters, what would happen next? In the drive, which was a few hours, I got to a part of Kentucky where there were just roads and fields, barely any signs or cars or anything. It felt like the middle of nowhere, and it was pouring rain. I started to feel helpless like I wasn’t doing things in my life correctly. The last time I was applying for things and moving on to the next chapter was when I was applying for college, and my dad was driving me to different schools to tour. But when I was 20, my dad died from colon cancer. Dad was not there in the Volvo, it was me alone. I was struck with this urge to have him there. I wished he was telling me what to say in the interview; I wished he was telling me to “go get them Tasha Bear.” I started crying really hard. Out of desperation, I cried out, “Dad, please just give me a sign you’re here.”
And if I didn’t know better
I’d think you were talking to me now
If I didn’t know better
I’d think you were still around
The rain stopped. The sun broke through just in time for me to pass the first road sign I had seen in miles. “Prestonville 5 miles” I let out a gasp. I started crying and then laughing, and crying again. My father’s name was Ike Preston. Our last name is Preston. He had given me a literal sign.
I remember all those car rides we took. He used to play opera and joke it was my favorite music to make me laugh when I was having a teenaged moody episode. The week before he died, he wanted to speak to me and give me his advice. We were supposed to talk the day he died. I wish I had asked him everything when he was alive.
And I complained the whole way there
The car ride back and up the stairs
I should’ve asked you questions
I should’ve asked you how to be
Asked you to write it down for me
This song made me full-on sob when I heard it because it’s how I feel about him. Even though I never got to ask him questions, he is still here, and his spirit lives in me. When you hear Taylor’s grandmother singing, it gave me chills because those we love really are here still, singing to us from above. They live in our heads, their lessons we live our lives by, and they find their ways to remind us they still are here.
What died didn’t stay dead
You’re alive, you’re alive in my head
~
Rob Henry:
I’m sure I’m not alone in making the statement that this track reduced me to a sobbing mess. A heart-wrenchingly haunting tribute to a pillar and inspiration in Taylor’s life. As it is for me, as well. My Baba (Rusyn for grandma) was a survivor, a fighter, and loving, giving, and generous.
Never be so kind
You forget to be clever
Never be so clever
You forget to be kind
But what connects me to this track is the way my Baba selflessly supported me and never questioned my decisions about becoming who I am. A fervent Byzantine Catholic who bought me my first punk record, the Ramones’ It’s Alive in 1981 without ever asking why or refusing. She knew it was something special and important, and she wanted to always make me happy and secure. Without that record purchase, I would have never become the person I am today. But more importantly, without HER I wouldn’t be the human I am today. And I thank her every time I talk to her, every day. In my head, where she’s still alive.
~
Rhiannon L:
I didn’t personally write a story for my folklore piece because I didn’t immediately connect to any of the songs, so I published without contributing my interpretation of the album. Because of that, I was able to understand and learn folklore through the stories I had collected. This time was different, of course, because ‘marjorie’ is an ode to everyone’s favorite grandmother (or in some cases, the loss of a parent, sibling, relative, friend.)
My best friend growing up was my Me-Mom. She became my babysitter when I entered grade school and made sure I had perfect attendance every single year. In the morning before school, we would play make-believe with these little plush aliens, dressed to the nines in Barbie clothes that didn’t quite fit them. They had names and they had stories. She even tried to play Nicktoons Racing with me on my Playstation. She made sure she was at every single orchestra concert, cheering me on as my number one fan. She came to every Grandparents’ Day at school. She watched RENT with me and introduced me to Chicago. She helped shape every aspect of my life as it is today, right down to my career choice as a medical assistant in oncology.
In 2009, my Me-Mom lost her battle with lung cancer. It was hard on the whole family and ultimately tore a hole in the foundation of it. Christmases stopped being Christmases, and we stopped hearing from the extended parts of our family. It very much felt like we lost her and her memories. Because of my lack of faith in the spiritual world, I don’t feel her around the way my parents do. But this year, my mom asked me to go to a medium reading with them, and even as a skeptic, I found some peace.
And if I didn’t know better
I’d think you were listening to me now
If I didn’t know better
I’d think you were still around
Somehow, and maybe it’s just a coincidence, but this medium knew that I often feel spider-like tingles down my arms. It happens when I’m lying in bed mostly and I attribute it to loose strands of hair. She said it’s my grandmother letting me know she’s around. Maybe that’s true, maybe it’s not. Either way, ‘marjorie’ reminds me that her spirit doesn’t have to be around for her memory to be because I am living proof that she and her kindness, generosity, and love lives on within me.
~
Kelly Renshaw:
My grandma is still alive and maybe that’s what made this song sting in a different way. In the last two months, my grandmother’s health has taken a turn for the worse. She’s been suffering from Alzheimer’s and now, to couple with that, she is having a mental health crisis. She’s hurting everyone, and I know that she’s scared and I’m scared for her. She’s stubborn and witty and funny and she’s losing all of it as this progresses. We haven’t been able to see her because of COVID but, even if we could, she’s not herself. My grandma and I have birthdays that are two days apart. On my 21st birthday, she turned 80 and my family threw us a surprise party. We had a 101 Dalmatians themed cake because she loves Cruella Deville and for what felt like the 100th time, she whispered to me her wish and I blew our candles out making a double wish just like I have every year.
‘Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me
Watched as you signed your name Marjorie
All your closets of backlogged dreams
And how you left them all to me
To add, we’re currently in the process of helping her move. The day after evermore came out, I was loading a U-Haul up with boxes to take to a storage unit. I pulled over and sobbed when I heard this part of the song. I was sorting through boxes with memories and I couldn’t ask her anything because even though she’s here, she can’t answer the questions. I missed the person who was just on the other side of the door. She was right in front of me, and I missed her. I feel like I’m grieving for a person who’s living and it’s devastating to experience.
~
Ashley Wideman:
For me, ‘marjorie’ hit deep because it reminded me of my dad. He lived at my grandparents’ house for a few years growing up, so I would see him when I went there on weekends. We used to play video games together and we bonded over our love of animals. When he wasn’t living there, I wouldn’t see him for maybe a few years at a time. He had a lot of mental health issues and struggled with feeling like he wasn’t good enough to be my dad, which breaks my heart because I would have loved to just have him there in whatever way he could be.
I never had a close relationship with my dad because he struggled with addiction and mental health. I always imagined we would have a relationship when I was older and he was in a more stable place. He passed away when I was 20 and it broke my heart to know I would never get to have that relationship with him that I dreamed of having someday. Listening to ‘marjorie’ made me feel like he was right there next to me!
~
Hannah B:
So, ironically enough, a few weeks ago I was cleaning out some things at my parents’ house and wound up coming across a ton of old photos of my family. A lot of them were of my grandma, who died of lung cancer when I was 11. Her illness and death hit me really, really hard at that age, and I was at a weird in-between age where I didn’t have healthy coping mechanisms, but death wasn’t this weird foreign thing like most kids experience. I had my mom scan some photos of hers from the 50s/60s so I could print them and hang them because they were gorgeous photos and I wanted to keep her memory alive.
I had been thinking about her a lot lately, and feeling upset that 15 years later, I hardly remember anything about her. I don’t remember the conversations we had, I can’t think of any sage advice she gave me, and even the sound of her voice is a fleeting memory. I had to listen to ‘marjorie’ a few times to process it, and on Friday midday I was sitting on my couch working when I heard the line: “I should’ve asked you more questions” which made me just break down. I felt the exact same way and having never experienced heartbreak in the same way Taylor has, this was the first song of hers that hit me so viscerally and so hard. I feel closer to my grandma by listening, knowing that her memory still lives in me.
~
Wanika Budlove:
My father was killed 10 years ago in 2010, right at the start of my sophomore year in college. He wasn’t always emotionally available as we were growing up, but he did the best he knew how. 2009 was a rough year for our family and 2010 was supposed to be our comeback time. So when he was killed….it was a shock because it felt like we got denied our new beginning with him. In the time since then, I have been through every stage of grief more than once, particularly denial and avoidance. Hearing ‘marjorie’ for the first time took my breath away because it felt like my dad had asked Taylor personally to send me a message. This song blasted out of my earbuds and with invisible strings, wrapped itself all around me to give me a hug straight from heaven. I’ve always been thankful for Taylor and her amazing songwriting abilities, but I never expected this.
~
Kacy Taylor:
My mom was my best friend, my confidante. We spoke daily despite living apart. Two of our biggest shared passions were music and saving animals. One of the last things we were able to do together, before she got sick, was pick out a beautiful sound system. I didn’t know it at the time, but our last peaceful moment together would be spent listening to Adele’s new album on that system less than a year later.
She died of metastatic lung cancer, just after Christmas, nearly 5 years ago. One of her last wishes was to die at home, so my family and I took care of her until the end. I have no regrets about this or the care we provided her. But despite that, in every dream I had about her after her death, I was killing her.
This summer, I had to make the decision to send her last living dog back to her. It was harder than I’d imagined it would be. The night before the vet came to my home, I had a dream about my mom. And for the first time, I wasn’t killing her. Instead, we were back in her home, listening to music. Only this time it was folklore. I had once again found peace.
‘Marjorie’ is the Christmas gift I didn’t know I needed. I recently had to make an emergency move, 2000 miles away from home, to help my brother. It’s been incredibly isolating and the holidays became much harder for us five years ago. But this year, Taylor gave me ‘marjorie.’ She reminded me that I’m not alone, that my mom is right here with me. And that is the only gift I need.
~
Jennifer M:
My Nanna was born and raised in Canada, and her life without borders showed me the possibility of settling in the great somewhere else. We spent weekends together sipping white wine and talking about life, travel, and what was next. She asked me once if I’d ever considered moving to Canada but I shrugged it off, focusing instead on other places I wanted to be. December is a magical time of year. The traditions of the season remind us of the epic thread of life woven through a tapestry of generations. It’s a spell of warmth tinged with the somber note of memory. This December marks the fifth anniversary of my Nanna’s passing. December days become increasingly melancholy as the time draws nearer. Christmas is marred with grief knowing the next day holds the anniversary.
The first time I listened to ‘marjorie,’ I was flooded with thoughts of my grandmother. As I drove through her hometown, my hometown now, I pondered for the nth time that my Nanna walked the same streets I now traverse. She found solace in the sound of the same waves and saw majesty in the mountainscapes that were here long before her and will be there long after me. Remembering in Los Angeles was grief; remembering here (Vancouver) is restorative. In a way only Taylor Swift can manage, ‘marjorie’ has made this December—a December that should be more difficult—bearable. The ache is there, but there’s peace too.
There’s something almost spiritual about being the family historian. There is honour in recording the voices of ancestors and committing their stories to your heart. My Nanna was the family historian, and she passed that torch to me. Every genealogist knows what dies never stays dead, not when memory lives on through the songs we sing and the stories we share.
closure
Anonymous:
Last year (and into this year), I had a major fall out with a best friend. She ghosted me, told everyone I abandoned her in her time of need, acted like she was physically scared of me to our leader at church, etc. I have not spoken to this woman since she blocked me, but she has tried sending messages through friends, calling me, messaging me, and my personal favorite, publicly bashing me on her Facebook with pictures of me, links to my blog, videos making fun of me/my anxiety, and threatening to sue me. You can imagine that ‘my tears ricochet’ hit home HARD, especially since folklore came out right after the last time she pulled one of these stunts.
Yes, I got your letter
Yes, I’m doing better
I know that it’s over
I don’t need your closure
In the months since, I’ve really struggled with the hurt/anger and finally realized that it’s okay if I’m still upset. It was REALLY bad, and I don’t have to forgive her on anyone else’s time but my own. That’s between me and God, ya know? I don’t need to feel guilty about it. When I saw the tracklist had a song called ‘closure,’ I told my friend, “I think it’s the song that’ll mean a lot to me.” And I was right, even though it was much different than I anticipated emotion-wise. It confirms that feeling of still being hurt and it being okay.
It’s been a long time
And seeing the shape of your name
Still spells out pain
I get very triggered seeing her name, which sucks since my foster child’s biological mom has the same name. I am currently fine with my spite, my tears, my beers (or vodka), and my candles.
evermore
Madison S:
CW: suicide, wildfire
Late this summer, I lost a close friend to suicide. I reached for folklore to carry me through the grief in the days and weeks that followed. A month later, much of my town was consumed by a wildfire. Our structure was the only home in the neighborhood that wasn’t leveled by the fire, leaving us with feelings of disbelief, overwhelming relief, and tremendous guilt. Although we didn’t lose many of our items, we ended up needing to leave our home.
As I listened to folklore, I grieved these losses. I know that I’m far from alone in this experience, but the whole experience felt more personal than other albums or songs have felt to me before.
And then evermore came out. The title track particularly resonates with me, with lyrics that feel like they were written just for me. After the fire, I went into a pretty heavy depression that bottomed out in November. I really felt that the pain would be forevermore. In a very literal sense, I’ve journaled my thoughts about the fire that so completely ruined my community.
Gray November
I’ve been down since July
Motion capture
Put me in a bad light
I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone
Trying to find the one where I went wrong
Writing letters
Addressed to the fire
Thanks to the unconditional love of my husband and family—along with therapy and treatment—I am breaking through the floor of my depression, and I’m ending this godforsaken year with “a feeling so peculiar, this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.”
~
Kelly Renshaw
CW: wildfire
During this pandemic, like many people, I’ve felt more alone than ever before. ‘Evermore’ to me was a song that perfectly described some of my lowest points during the pandemic. I live in Oregon and in September we were hit with horrible wildfires. I live in an urban area and was put into level 2 evacuation (get set). At the time, I was two days into owning my first puppy. The air quality was horrific, I couldn’t walk him to get his energy out and all of my family was in danger. I remember staring out the window and thinking about how badly I wanted to be outside. I’ve always loved the outdoors, but at this time, my favorite hiking and camping spots were up in flames and I couldn’t do anything. I felt helpless, as I had for most of 2020.
And I was catching my breath
Staring out an open window
Catching my death
And I couldn’t be sure
I had a feeling so peculiar
That this pain would be for
Evermore
Suddenly, it was like everything was coming to a halt and I didn’t know what to do. Because of the pandemic, I couldn’t go stay with my family. I just had to sit and stare out the window and hope that the fire wouldn’t come any closer to me. I was praying that the fire would stop, slow down, or that we’d get rain.
Can’t not think of all the cost
And the things that will be lost
Oh, can we just get a pause?
Eventually, of course, it stopped. It gave all so many of us a front-row view of climate change. It showed us how powerful our earth is. To say this year has been a challenge would be a complete understatement to the people who have died, gotten sick, lost their jobs, lost their homes, the list goes on. There’s been so much loss this year and I hope as we move forward and begin to restructure, we’re able to think back to the losses suffered and never forget what enabled them to happen and what caused them to take place. I know this song is probably about a breakup, but to me, it’s about this year and the fires that burned across the world and all that was lost. All of the pain.
~
Rachel:
CW: miscarriage
When folklore came out, it really felt like magic to me. Three weeks after the release, I found out I was pregnant. The album had already been on heavy rotation, but now it was the soundtrack for the drives to my doctor’s appointments and the background music for all the conversations Aaron and I had about this exciting new chapter. But, everything changed two weeks ago when I lost my baby in my second trimester. Lyrics I never thought twice about before twisted in my head and now mean something entirely different. I still love the album, but it’s tied up in this now complicated chapter.
Hey December
Guess I’m feeling unmoored
Can’t remember
What I used to fight for
I rewind thе tape but all it does is pause
On thе very moment, all was lost
Grief is weird. You attach yourself to weird thoughts and grasp at whatever is going to get you through that day/hour/moment. And today (December 10), I feel that evermore, an album I haven’t even heard yet, is my beacon of hope. Hope that I’m going to be okay, that I’ll have another baby. It always felt like the magic of folklore brought me my first girl, and having another new album is bringing me the same kind of light.
I had a feeling so peculiar
That this pain would be for
Evermore
I recognize that this all seems ridiculous and irrational because it is. Because grief is weird. But today, Taylor’s magic let me feel some hope instead of despair. So, I’m going to lean into that.
I think the epitome of the album for me though is all of ‘evermore.’ It’s so heartbreaking, but the end of it has given me so much more hope than anything else, particularly the switch of the line into: “I had a feeling so peculiar that this pain wouldn’t be for evermore.” It’s the simplest line that helps me remember I will survive this.
Experience evermore
