Taylor swift has tourettes (coprolalia ) and she i
Taylor swift has tourettes (coprolalia ) and she is trying to get all her tics out her system before a interview and her publicis Tree is there and there is dialogue
The air in Taylor’s dressing room was thick with nervous energy. It wasn’t just the anticipation of the upcoming interview – a major one, for a prestigious magazine – it was the constant, low hum of her tics. The words, the phrases, the involuntary sounds, they were all bubbling under the surface, threatening to burst forth.
“Okay, one more deep breath,” she whispered to herself, trying to calm the storm within. She ran her fingers through her hair, the smooth silk providing a grounding sensation. “You got this, Taylor. Just get through the interview, and then you can let loose.”
The door creaked open, and her publicist, Tree, entered. He was tall and thin, with an aura of calmness that Taylor envied.
“Hey, Tay. Ready for your big moment?” He grinned, but his eyes held a knowing glimmer.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she forced a smile, but the forced cheer didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Listen, I know you’re a little on edge today,” Tree said softly, his voice a soothing balm in the tense atmosphere. “Just remember to breathe, and if you need to excuse yourself for a moment, just tell me.”
“I know, Tree. I’m trying.”
He pulled up a chair beside her, placing a glass of water and a small plate of grapes within reach.
“You know, you’re a pro,” Tree continued. “You’ve been through a lot. You can handle this.”
Taylor took a deep breath, trying to focus on the sound of his voice, on the sweet scent of grapes, on anything but the cacophony in her head.
“Just…try to relax,” Tree urged. “Think happy thoughts.”
Taylor nodded, attempting to conjure up a mental image of a tranquil beach, the waves lapping gently against the shore. But her efforts were disrupted by a sudden surge of tics. The words, sharp and unexpected, shot out of her mouth.
“Oh, shoot, sorry,” she muttered, her cheeks flushing red.
Tree’s eyebrows shot up, but he remained calm. “It’s okay, Tay. Just breathe.” He reached out and squeezed her hand.
Taylor spent the next few minutes trying to hold the torrent of tics back, the frustration mounting with each passing moment. The interview was only a few minutes away, and she was starting to feel a sense of panic.
“Tree,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Yes, you can,” he said, his voice firm but reassuring. “You’re strong. You’re brave. And you’re amazing.”
He looked into her eyes, his gaze unwavering. “Don’t let this control you, Taylor. You are in control.”
His words, simple yet powerful, seemed to ground her. She took another deep breath, and this time, she felt a sense of calm wash over her.
“Okay,” she said, a hint of determination in her voice. “I’m ready.”
Tree gave her a reassuring smile, his eyes reflecting a confidence she felt mirroring within herself. “Go get ’em, Tiger.”
As Taylor walked out of the dressing room, she felt a sense of calm she hadn’t experienced in a long time. She knew there would be moments during the interview when the tics would come, but she was ready to face them head-on, ready to prove that Tourette’s wouldn’t define her. She was Taylor Swift, and she was ready to share her story with the world.
