The Room Full of Swifties: What a Taylor Swift Party Taught Me About Belonging

When my business partner Anne Igeltjørn told me she was going to the Taylor Swift launch party for The Life of a Showgirl, I hesitated before asking the question: “Can I come?”

I hesitated because, well, I’m 45. A man. And I wasn’t sure if I’d fit in at an event that, at least from the outside, seemed like it was built for someone else.

But Anne, being Anne, didn’t miss a beat. She’d already called the venue, found an extra ticket, and invited me to join her and her sister. That simple act, “of course, you should come!”, was the first moment I realized this wasn’t just a party. It was a masterclass in inclusion.

The Awkward Part (That Never Came)

Walking in, I’d braced myself to be the old guy in a room full of glitter, friendship bracelets, and youthful energy.

But what I found was something entirely different. The crowd was mixed, men and women, friends and couples, strangers singing and dancing. The average age was somewhere in the 30s, and instead of feeling out of place, I felt part of something joyful, warm, and human.

At one point, I noticed a couple beside me swaying together to the music. She teared up during one of the songs, and he just quietly reached over and held her hand. No fanfare. No posturing. Just presence.

That moment hit me harder than I expected. It was connection. Empathy. Care.

The Real Lesson in Belonging

Here’s the thing about belonging: you can’t manufacture it with slogans or strategy. It happens in small, genuine moments, when someone makes space for you, when you make space for them.

Anne didn’t just get me a ticket; she gave me permission to show up. The couple next to me reminded me that shared emotion builds bridges faster than shared opinions. And Taylor Swift, whether you like her or not, has somehow created a global community built on listening, storytelling, and joy.

That’s inclusion. Not the kind that checks boxes, but the kind that opens doors.

Beyond the Backlash

Of course, the next morning, I opened social media and saw the criticism. The think pieces. The hot takes. Some fair, some not. And a whole lot that revealed something bigger about us - our need to tear down what we don’t understand, or what wasn’t made for us.

But here’s what that night reminded me: when we enter spaces with curiosity instead of defensiveness, we find humanity. When we stop asking, “Is this for me?” and start asking, “Can I make room for someone else here too?”, everything changes.

Why It Matters

I walked into that event feeling like an outsider. I left feeling like part of a community I didn’t know I needed.

And maybe that’s the point. Inclusion isn’t about making everything for everyone. It’s about making sure everyone knows they’re welcome to show up.

P.S. This one’s for Anne - for being the kind of leader who invites others in. And for anyone who’s ever wondered, “Do I belong here?” - try showing up anyway. You might be surprised who’s waiting to hand you a bracelet. 💫