Elisabeth Kübler-Ross introduced what is now referred to as the Kübler-Ross model of grief in her 1969 novel On Death and Dying. Before I dive into Taylor Swift’s most recent studio album, THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT (TTPD), I’ll provide some background about this model. First, it’s important to note that it was originally developed based on case studies of patients diagnosed with a terminal illness. It was not intended to depict bereavement or heartbreak, per se. Furthermore, it lacks empirical evidence, even for those adjusting to a terminal diagnosis. It is nonetheless in our common vernacular when it comes to grief and has been applied to grieving death, breakups, and more. 

Of course, there are concerns with applying a non-evidence-based model to people’s grief as though there were some universal and predictable set of stages they’ll move through over time. When people’s experiences do not align, they are set up to view their way of grieving as wrong, which can be scary, lonely, and invalidating. To be clear, before you read any further, assuming you’re not harming anyone, there is no wrong way to grieve. The process is affected by individual factors (e.g., personality, culture, age, life circumstances, etc.), the type of loss (e.g., death, breakup, serious injury, layoff, etc.), and the context of the loss (e.g., relationship to the person, amount of warning, degree of trauma, etc.). Consider the difference in grieving a breakup in which two partners gradually drift apart to grieving a relationship that ends in the discovery of a significant betrayal. 

While there are drawbacks to the popularity of an unproven model, there are also potential upsides. One of the advantages is that people benefit from the sense of impermanence, predictability, and hope that comes from viewing grief as a set of universal stages that ends in acceptance. When the tunnel feels long and dark, the belief in eventual acceptance can be the light that keeps someone going. It helps to believe that it won’t last forever. Additionally, for those whose experiences align with the model, it’s common to feel emotionally normalized and validated, especially for the aspects of grief like anger that can feel uncomfortable, or worse, shameful. It offers permission to experience feelings that deviate from sadness. 

The bottom line is that the five stage model is useful as a framework for discussing grief. An expression of the experiences of grief that may characterize someone’s process. It is not universal, and it may not align with your personal experience. The reality of grief is messy, complicated, and highly individualized. While I’ll explore the stages in order, few, if any, people actually progress distinctly through each of the stages systematically. Some stages may be more prominent than others, jumble together, be skipped, or arrive in different orders. Some people may only experience one or two of the stages. Some may experience other feelings, like shock, in substitution or addition to Kübler-Ross’s five. 

If you’re still reading, thanks for hanging in there. It’s likely you’re here for Taylor, and I promise, I’m getting there. My background as a psychologist, marriage and family therapist, and college instructor gives me an added sense of responsibility for providing accurate information. And, since I’m taking a quick detour from the topic of the article, I’ll also throw out that I’m by no means an expert Swiftie. With that said, I am a fan, and I’m excited to dive into TTPD based on Taylor’s own categorization of the songs into her playlists. In case these playlists are news to you, here’s the introduction to them in Apple Music. 

“When Taylor announces an album, the world takes an interest. That’s certainly what happened in the days after she unveiled THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT, as intrepid Swifties began hunting and assembling and pinning clues to digital corkboards, eventually landing on the theory that her 11th studio album is sure to explore the five stages of heartbreak. And when Swifties agree upon a theory, Taylor takes an interest–so naturally, she’s responded by crafting a series of exclusive playlists, choosing songs of her own that fit each stage.”

The goal here is not to dissect Taylor’s dating life. The brilliance of her music transcends Joe, Matty, and, as much as he is beloved, even Travis. I’ll explore how her lyrics exemplify stages of heartbreak in terms of the lyrics themselves. The muses are not meant to be the focus. Taylor herself says at the end of “The Manuscript” that “the story isn’t mine anymore.” She writes to make sense of and then release her personal experiences; after that, it becomes ours. She wants us to relate to her music from our own perspectives, not hypothesize about hers. While it’s not the subject of this particular blog, I’ll quickly mention that Taylor wrote in her forward to 1989 that “these songs were once about my life. They are now about yours.” So, without further ado, here’s my perspective of TTPD as viewed through the lens of the five stages of grief. Note: I’m going to break this article into parts, so the remainder of this portion will only cover denial. 

Denial ("I Love You, It’s Ruining My Life")

Denial in the context of heartbreak refers to the sense that what’s happening or has happened can’t be real; that it’s not really over, that there’s still hope. Taylor’s denial playlist is interestingly entitled “I Love You, It’s Ruining My Life” despite not including the song that bears those lyrics (“Fortnight”), which is listed on her depression playlist. There are eight TTPD tracks on the denial list, tied for the most tracks with her depression playlist. In “A Message From Taylor” that opens the playlist, Taylor says:

“This is a list of songs about getting so caught up in the idea of something that you have a hard time seeing the red flags, possibly resulting in moments of denial and maybe a little bit of delusion.”

The playlist description further speaks to Taylor’s relationship with denial in stating that it is “heard (and felt) in a huge swath of her catalog,” so as to say that this is a somewhat common experience for her, or at least a point of view that she often explores. From here forward, I will use “her” to refer to the narrator of each song rather than Taylor herself, unless otherwise mentioned (similarly, I’ll use “he” for references to romantic partners in light of her use of pronouns throughout the album). While she’s the songwriter (sometimes alone and sometimes in collaboration with others, most commonly on this album with Jack Antonoff and Aaron Dessner), and the album is considered autobiographical in nature, I’m not going to assume that every lyric is her experience or perspective, or that I’ve interpreted it exactly as she intended (these are my thoughts about the lyrics - I won’t pretend that I have a special insight into knowing hers). Now that we’ve reviewed the fine print, let’s look at the eight TTPD denial tracks.

“imgonnagetyouback”

The first song on the playlist is “imgonnagetyouback,” a song that vacillates between two meanings of the word: recoupling and revenge. It conjures images of a person who still has strong feelings for someone who is also hurting her (“I’m at Aston Martin that you steered straight into the ditch then ran and hid”). The muse, at least from her perspective, appears to also still desire her, but is not acknowledging this openly (“I can tell when somebody still wants me, come clean”). She is in denial about him leaving her and the impact that had on her. Throughout the song, she maintains that he’ll one day realize that he’s always been hers (“you’ll find that you were never not mine”). 

In the meantime, she acts “like I don’t care what you did” and despite the red flags described throughout the album, convinces herself that they’re “becomin’ something new” while the past fades away (“bygones with be bygone, eras fadin’ into gray.”). She admits to her friends that “I hate you but I love you just the same;” nonetheless she is determined that “even if it’s handcuffed, I’m leaving here with you.” She does not want to acknowledge that it’s over, that she does not actually have control over whether this relationship can happen, or that she may never get the revenge she’s currently contemplating. She cannot, in fact, “flip the switch and leave you like a dumb house party.” She’s not gonna get him back.

“I Hate It Here”

Next, her denial shifts from getting back together or exacting revenge, to a focus on dissociation and escapism in “I Hate It Here.” She wants to be anywhere but here, and she wants to do anything to protect herself from being present with her current circumstances. It’s too much to sit with and feel. Perhaps she’s in denial about the viability of her relationship, and thus desperately wants to live inside her own mind to escape having to consider that it is, or should be, ending. She is, after all, only “tolerated” by the object of her affection, but not ready to face ending the relationship, either (ok, I drifted into evermore territory…). 

Back to TTPD. Clearly, she’s not in a good place, but rather than directly acknowledging it, she says, “I’m lonely, but I’m good, I’m bitter, but I swear I’m fine.” Her response is to hide in the imaginative and secretive world of her own mind - the “secret gardens” and “lunar valleys” that only she has the key to access. She may even be in denial about her mental health - it seems that she's not, in fact, good or fine. Although she’s currently “scared to go outside,” she also acknowledges that “nostalgia is a mind’s trick” and that she doesn’t “believe in good luck.” It does not feel safe to reflect on the past, present, or future. She actively maintains denial by avoiding reality. If “here” is too much to bear, she’ll “save all my romanticism for my inner life and I’ll get lost on purpose” because “in my fantasies, I rise above it, and way up there, I actually love it.”

“The Bolter”

The next song, “The Bolter,” describes an insecure attachment style. Relationships with her start fun and light “with a kiss” but ultimately, “it always ends up with a town car speeding." That represents the avoidant quality of needing freedom, keeping relationships at a superficial level, and being prone to fleeing once the relationship is perceived as becoming too deep, suffocating, stifling, or close. These men are apparently caught off-guard and respond harshly to which she wishes “he wouldn’t be sore” but admits that despite their response, “it felt like breathing” to leave. While for the most part, this song illustrates classic avoidant attachment patterns, there’s also a potentially anxious quality highlighted when she shares that she “liked the way it tastes / taming a bear, making him care.” That taming and caring may just be the initial excitement of a new relationship that ultimately becomes too much (avoidant), but could also be aimed at reassuring her deep-seated fears about abandonment by taming him and getting him to show his affection first, which might provide the safety she needs to stay (anxious). 

In terms of denial, this song highlights the red flags she might recognize and respond to earlier if not for being in denial. She runs away when she “sees the littlest leaks down in the floorboard,” which from an avoidant perspective may be the sense that they depend on her too much, and from an anxious perspective could be signs that she’ll eventually be hurt by them. Either way, she fears drowning when the leaks in the “tiny rowboats” overwhelm the capacity of the boat to remain afloat and it reminds her of “the time she fell through the ice" in "frigid water" when "she almost drowned when she was six." There’s perhaps denial about the type of men she’s choosing, her role in the pattern, the fact that ultimately she knows she’ll leave, and that over time, she may lose herself too. The cycle of unmet needs, feeling better off alone, trying again, and coming to the same conclusion. Although “at first blush, this is fate” and “they’re off to the races,” “none of it is changin’ that the chariot is waitin.’” At the end of the day, “there’s escape in escaping,” further echoing her tendency to run. As stated in Taylor’s album summation, “lovers spend years denying what’s ill fated” and later in the same summation, “it was self harm.” Like an escaped convict (more on this in “Fresh Out The Slammer”), “she must bolt.”

“Robin”

Next up is “Robin,” a song presumably written about Aaron Dessner’s son, Robin, based on the track name and co-writing credits with Aaron. The lyrics describe protecting the imagination and innocence of childhood. In essence, adults actively facilitate a lack of awareness about the cruelties of the world for children, which perhaps could also be extended to pets, notably her deeply loved cats. You might say, facilitating their denial by way of ignorance. You simply cannot accept something you’re completely unaware of existing. 

“The time will arrive for the cruel and the mean,” but for now, the adults in this child’s life will “curtail your curiosity, in sweetness.” She wants Robin to embrace his wildness and lightness, to look ridiculous without concern, to talk “utter nonsense” with absolutely no self-consciousness about it. To be free to be fully and unapologetically himself without compromise or worry. To swing on “your favorite spot on the swing set,” “roar at your dinosaurs,” and be “covered in mud” as long as he can before the realities of the world set in.  

“My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys”

Moving on to “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys,” another interesting exploration of an avoidant attachment style, but this time written about the narrator’s partner rather than the narrator herself. On Amazon, Taylor shares insight into some of the album tracks. Regarding this song, she states “it’s kind of like a song about denial really so that you could live in this world where there’s still hope for a toxic, broken relationship.” The lyrics beautifully illustrate this viewpoint. The partner “saw forever, so he smashed it up,” but “you should've seen him when he first saw me.” Although she recognizes that she’s “queen…of sand castles he destroys” and that he’s “left all these broken parts,” she nonetheless ends the song telling the listener that despite him telling her that she’s better off, she does not agree. 

Going back to attachment styles quickly, the dynamic between the narrator’s anxious attachment and the muse’s avoidant attachment become clear. She’s chasing after the magic of their early days and “should’ve known it was a matter of time” but continues “repeating myself” that “there was a litany of reasons why we could’ve played for keeps this time.” If she does everything right, they could be forever, or at the risk of including another album, “end game” (reputation). She’s in denial about the fact that he’s not treating her well as evidenced by continuing to tell herself that “he runs because he loves me” and because “I knew too much there was danger in the heat of my touch.” What does this mean? That she was getting too close for an avoidantly attached person. Now, he must run. She is in denial about the self-harming and dysfunctional nature of this relationship and clings on to hope that they’ll return to the start despite the evidence to the contrary.

“But Daddy I Love Him”

In “But Daddy I Love Him,” the focus shifts from the dynamics of the relationship itself to the public’s interference in it. She asserts that she’s going to make her own choices and tune out the critics who only want “gray for me.” These “judgmental creeps” who “sanctimoniously perform soliloquies I’ll never see thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he touches me” are “just white noise.” She’s in love, and she’s willing to “burn my whole life down” rather than “cater to all these vipers dressed in empath’s clothing.” Normally, she’s the one to bolt, but her feelings are so strong that she’s “telling him to floor it through the fences.” This time, it’ll be different, and they’ll run off together “just screeching tires and true love.” 

This relationship was the “one thing I wanted” despite knowing “he’s crazy.” She’s expressing her denial about this relationship being worth fighting for, worth “not coming to my senses” and worth disgracing her “good name” - it is, after all, “mine alone to disgrace.” In my interpretation, the song shifts towards the end when she’s no longer stuck on the old relationship(s), and now is proudly focused on a new relationship where she can dance “in my dress in the sun and even my daddy just loves him” (backed up by the Eras tour transition in this set from this song to “So High School”). Now, she’s “his lady” and “no, you can’t come to the wedding.” 

“I Can Do It With a Broken Heart”

“I Can Do It With a Broken Heart” immediately tells the listener that we’re situated in the Eras tour with the click track and performance-related sounds in the background in addition to lyrics that describe her “glittering prime” and lights that “refract sequin stars off her silhouette every night.” We’re meant to know that she performed on tour with a broken heart - that “I can show you lies, ‘cause I’m a real tough kid, I can handle my shit.” The relationship that “shattered” “all the pieces of me” was so brief that she’s left questioning whether it even happened. She says, “I keep finding his things in drawers, crucial evidence, I didn’t imagine the whole thing.” But, don’t worry, she’s “sure I can pass this test.”  

Despite the toxic elements described in previous songs, perhaps most notably so far the smashing of their forever and breaking of her as his so-called favorite toy, she’s still “obsessed with him,” continues to feel that the relationship was “too short,” and shares that she’s been holding her breath “since he left.” Furthermore, rather than sitting in her sadness and grief, she’s actively performing as though this deep pain is not there. “I’m so depressed, I act like it’s my birthday every day.” She’s manifesting denial for her fans, too, by “grinnin’ like I’m winnin’” and “hittin’ my marks.” She’s “miserable and nobody even knows.” And that’s exactly her intention. 

“I Can Fix Him (No Really I can)”

The last TTPD track listed on the denial playlist, “I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can),” describes someone who truly believes that this man is “a perfect case for my certain skill set.” She is of the mindset that this person is capable of having “a halo of the highest grade, he just hadn’t met me yet.” She acknowledges that “the jokes that he told across the bar were revolting and far too loud,” but she can fix him, “no, really, I can, and only I can.”  She wanted to “show you heaven,” but he could never be the “angel” she needed to make him “all mine.” 

She also takes the opportunity to chide the public again - “they shake their heads..when I tell ‘em he’s my man…but I can fix him.” She “can handle me a dangerous man.” That is, until the final stanza when she apparently overcomes her denial as demonstrated by “I can fix him…woah, maybe I can’t.” Her first significant acknowledgement in the denial tracks that she’s wrong, this isn’t going to work, and hope for the two of them is gone. It’s no surprise that this song is listed last of the TTPD tracks in the denial playlist. She’s realized that it is over, she can’t fix him, and it won’t work. 

This brings me to the end of Part 1 of this blog. Click here for Part 2 where I pick up with the next playlist: anger.