At approximately 12am EST on October 21st, every 20 something white girl you know sucked in an anxious breath, and pressed play on the long anticipated 10th studio album by Taylor Swift: Midnights.

Okay, maybe not every 20 something white girl, but definitely this 20 something white girl. Amid the sultry, exciting new sound, one track was anticipated by fans more than others, which is “Anti-Hero”, self described by Taylor (yes, I can call her by her first name — we have a parasocial relationship like that) herself as a “guided tour through all the things [she] tends to hate about herself” in an Instagram Reel. And wouldn’t you know it, it’s also the first music video released from the Midnights album.

The music video depicts two different versions of Taylor, one which appears to be the famous, media presenting version of herself that people know her as and the other version of herself — a real, complex person who often struggles to find her footing in between these two vastly different worlds. In the same Instagram Reel mentioned earlier, she says that she “often struggles with feeling like a person”, quickly miming fake tears, and saying not to feel bad for her (a self aware celebrity? Perhaps), but regardless, the feeling remains the same.

During one portion of the music video, as Taylor sings “I’ll stare directly in the sun, but never in the mirror”, we see “real” Taylor stepping on a scale, which simply reads “FAT” while the “famous” Taylor peers over to see what the scale says, and promptly shakes her had at a miserable looking “real” Taylor (photos below).

Now, I can recognize the impulse to immediately jump to “this is problematic and fatphobic” — and it is! — but that’s also… what eating disorders are. They’re problematic and fatphobic, more often than not. Now, this doesn’t mean that if you have an eating disorder that as a person you’re necessarily fatphobic (though it certainly can), but it does mean that your eating disorder is fatphobic, and that’s something that is simply inherent to the disorder in and of itself. Until you fully recover from an eating disorder (and even long after), you will have that problematic, fatphobic voice in your head, telling you (whether it’s true or not) that you’re fat. And, incidentally, Taylor has, you guessed it, an eating disorder. In “You’re on Your Own, Kid”, Taylor writes “I hosted parties and starved my body”, and in an interview with Variety, she says she sometimes sees “a picture of me where I feel like I looked like my tummy was too big, or… someone said that I looked pregnant … and that’ll just trigger me to just starve a little bit — just stop eating”, going on to say “And my relationship with food was exactly the same psychology that I applied to everything else in my life: If I was given a pat on the head, I registered that as good. If I was given a punishment, I registered that as bad.” In her documentary Miss Americana, she discusses her eating disorder, saying that though she knew her habits were unhealthy, “I would have defended it to anybody: ‘What are you talking about? Of course I eat. I exercise a lot. And I did exercise a lot. But I wasn’t eating.”

All of this is to say that, yes, this imagery in the “Anti-Hero” music video is problematic and fatphobic — people aren’t wrong about that — and it accurately depicts that voice that so many women have in their head. I can’t speak for Taylor, but for myself personally, as someone who has struggled with body dysmorphia and disordered eating tendencies, I don’t consider myself fatphobic as a whole, but rather fatphobic towards myself. I don’t pass judgement on others’ bodies, but my own? Oh, that is absolutely fair game. Even when I don’t think I’m thinking about my body, I am: tugging on my shirt, wondering if my thighs look extra big in the angle I’m sitting at, sucking in and trying to keep my posture perfect to make myself look as skinny as possible, etc., etc., etc.

Fat isn’t, and shouldn’t be, a bad thing. I know that to my core. I know that fat isn’t a feeling. I know that, at the end of the day, I’m placed in a “mid-sized” category if anything, and not truly fat (though the doctor at my last visit was sure to let me know that I should watch my diet — “have you tried the Mediterranean diet?” — because we don’t want me “slipping into that morbidly obese” BMI category. So considerate), and I’m sure that Taylor would say the same. But, it’s a hell of a lot easier to change your thinking and the way you treat others than it is to change the way you treat yourself. And, let’s not pretend that outside of more woke social media circles, that fat isn’t still pushed as a bad thing by a good 90% of the population.

Not only are eating disorders themselves fatphobic, but from the context of the video, we can also see this as not only how she feels about herself, but also what she is constantly told by the media. As we see the famous version of her peering over the scale, we can interpret this famous version of Taylor as one that is also representative of the media, and even her fans. In 2018, a supposed “fan account” changed their handle to “@taylorswiftisfat”, tweeting things like “Literally this outfit is so unflattering and really shows how much weight she has put on. Plus check out them thighs!”, and “Maybe if @taylorswift13 would buy some of @KimKardashian appetite supressent (sp) lollipops, she would lose some of the weight she has gained”. Even personal bloggers have written things titled “Taylor Swift is Still Fat and Destroying Herself With Alcohol”, wherein the opening line is “Hi loves, today I will be writing another post on Taylor Swift’s weight. Enjoy!” as if scrutinizing some stranger’s weight is the most normal, and apparently enjoyable, thing to do (this user actually has an entire tag dedicated to “Taylor Swift Weight Gain” on their blog). There’s also an article from OK! magazine titled “Taylor Swift Is Turning To Comfort Food After Tom Hiddleston Split”, writing that “Taylor has been eating super-sized portions this holiday season — and sources blame her rotten love life for falling off the fitness train”. With this constant scrutiny over minor weight gain from fatphobic media, it’s reasonable to assume that Taylor internalized many of these thoughts, worsening her body image issues and furthering her eating disorder. And, it’s also reasonable to assume that the “FAT” on the scale is meant to show what media has said about her, regardless of how thin she actually is.

I suppose what I’m trying to say here is: let’s not blame Taylor Swift for feeling terrible about her body. Let’s blame the people who go into the comment’s section of young women who are a size 4–8 and still get called fat, “mid”, or unhealthy. Let’s blame the tabloids who speculate that celebrities are pregnant when they show the slightest sign of bloating, or who serruptiously and cruelly pick apart every aspect of a woman’s body, every pound she gains. Let’s blame diet culture. Let’s blame the patriarchy. Blame your mom who pushed her own disordered eating thoughts onto you. Blame fashion culture for encouraging fashion models to starve themselves for weeks leading up to events. But Taylor Swift is merely another victim in this much larger game; she’s not a key player, no matter how you feel about her. And finally, and most importantly, two things can coexist at the same time — enter: nuance. People aren’t wrong to say that the imagery is problematic and fatphobic, but to address this as an attack toward Taylor dismisses and makes the video devoid of context. So maybe, just maybe, social media users could use critical thinking skills, and understand what this shot was meant to represent — not that Taylor Swift is actually fat, not that she herself as a person is fatphobic, but that she is under constant scrutiny by everyone at all times, and that she struggles with her own self image.

Anyhow, as an insane swiftie, I must close this by reminding everyone to stream Midnights by Taylor Swift, and to watch the Anti-Hero video, and to learn what nuance is (please).