Last week I willingly and happily attended a Taylor Swift concert. I forked over a substantial amount of money for tickets, parking and fast food, made the two hour (one way) trek into the city, danced along to mediocre pop lyrics and had a FABULOUS time. Here’s why:
It doesn’t matter that I don’t love Taylor Swift. She does. It doesn’t matter that I don’t love concerts. She does. It doesn’t matter that I felt silly bopping around to tween pop. She didn’t. And when the music slowed down and Ms. Swift settled into a slow ballad my girl reached over and held my hand. It was magical and worth every penny.
I know I’m lucky to have this opportunity; not everyone can afford to spend what we did on a single night or find the time or transportation necessary to make this happen. We can’t always and this was certainly a special occasion that required sacrifice for both K and myself. I think the sacrifice is part of what made it special. We’d have had fun no matter what- it was a great show. But what lasts far beyond the night of the concert is my daughter’s understanding that I believe she is worth the extra effort and sacrifice. That spending time with her, doing things she loves is how I want to spend some of my free time.
She knows this artist isn’t my favorite. She knows I enjoy things that have nothing to do her. She knows I’m my own person. But she also knows that when I do these things with her it’s not a burden or monumental sacrifice on my part. I don’t do it because I should or because I feel obligated. I do it because I am having fun with her. And, at least for right now, she is having fun with me.