Taylor Swift released studio album number 12, “The Life of a Showgirl,” this month, and it has been met with a considerable amount of criticism. One specific track, called “Eldest Daughter,” has sparked a particular amount of controversy, with some fans finding Swift’s use of pop-culture jargon cringey, while others found it imperative to her storytelling.Â
One of the interesting facets of the criticism has come from individuals who are the eldest daughters themselves, sharing their experiences. As an eldest daughter, I find this is the perfect time to take the attention away from the youngest for once and share my experience.
Aside from some of the controversial lyrics (cough, cough, the title of this article), I do think that Swift’s overall message is relatable. Hence, why so many people have been drawn to it and compare it to their own experiences.
She portrays a character who is desperately trying to fit in in a seemingly effortless and nonchalant way. However, her indifference is a mask that is constantly on the verge of being unveiled, because, in reality, she does care and, in fact, cares deeply. She pretends to be so detached from the desires of romantic love or reliance on anyone else, but those attempts fail, and we see a character who is transparent in her wants for those intimate moments.Â
I think Swift creates a very familiar outline of what it means to be the eldest daughter. There is a constant need to be everything for everyone, but oftentimes, in trying to show up for everyone else, you forget to show up for yourself.
In conversations beyond this song, there is an added layer of being a daughter with the societal expectation of being a caretaker and carrying the emotional burden for everyone else. Unfortunately, this overwhelming empathy often leads to burnout.Â
Growing up, I remember constant commentary from people saying, “You should be stepping up to help your mom with your siblings as the oldest.” Although I could understand their intentions, their comments more often reminded me that I was failing and never doing enough.Â
The crushing expectations that are put on the oldest become woven into the subconscious. The pressure to be perfect, while also being the guinea pig that your siblings can learn from, is all consuming.Â
The perfectionist mindset is rule one in an eldest daughter’s handbook. All eyes are on you waiting for the moment that you slip up and fail. But I have found that the person most disappointed in these so-called “failures” is myself.Â
Somewhere along the way I became my harshest critic, internalizing the commentary and letting it define me. But it is in letting these pressures go (easier said than done, I know) that I can accept that I am approaching life the best way I know how in every given moment.Â
In welcoming failure, you welcome growth. And although Swift did not capture every feeling associated with being the eldest daughter, she created an outline that sparked conversation and allowed us to reflect on and connect our experiences. And maybe the very point is that we are bad bitches, and this is very savage.