I cannot imagine a life without music. It has been a major part of my life and a source of comfort in trying times. It can contain and incite so many emotions—nostalgia, joy, sadness—in a way that few other art forms can for me.
However, one aspect of enjoying music has never been my favorite, and that is concerts. I am a person who has dealt with sensory issues my entire life, specifically with sound. Though it has improved as I have gotten older, sudden loud noises make me very anxious and upset. Add in other unpleasant factors like the crushing crowds of people and bright flashing lights, and the idea of concerts becomes distressing to me. Thankfully, there are resources out there to help people deal with those unpleasant aspects of a concert, from the crowds to the sensory overload.
I didn’t know that at the time, however. I felt embarrassed that something so cool brought me so much anxiety. So, I just turned down offers to go to concerts rather than doing research on how to cope. Even though this strategy led to me missing out, I viewed it as better than risking a meltdown at something that was supposed to be fun.
But last summer, everything changed. Over the first half of the year, I had rapidly become a huge fan (again) of the band Fall Out Boy. They had put out a new album in March, which sparked a reawakening of my middle school obsession with the band, and I got my mom interested in them as well. They were going on a massive international tour, and one of the stops on the tour was in Tampa, a 30-minute drive from our house.
My mom wanted to go super badly, and even though I was nervous, I said yes for two reasons. The first was that she had wanted to go to a lot of concerts with me, but because I didn’t want to attend them, she didn’t go. I felt bad that she would miss another concert (with a band I introduced her to) because of me. The second reason was that the setlist was fantastic, and I knew that if I didn’t go, I’d regret it for the rest of my life (like I had with the Eras Tour). So, when my mom asked me if I wanted to go, I said yes.
The old fears still loomed, however. I’d done my research, so I decided to alleviate my concerns by planning for the worst. The first aspect of the plan was earplugs. My friend had given me a nice pair as a gift, and I made sure to put them in my concert purse before I headed out. The second aspect of the plan was an escape route. This sounds dramatic, but it really wasn’t. When we reached our seats at the concert, I figured out the path I would take outside the seats. That way, I could take a minute to myself and calm down if I got overwhelmed. I also attempted to focus on the positives of the experience rather than the negatives: how fun it was going to be and how good the experience was going to be, rather than letting myself get lost in my fears. Despite my preparations, I still felt nervous on the drive over, worried how well my coping mechanisms would hold up in practice.
While we waited for the concert to begin, though, I began to see so many instances of community happening around me. The person sitting next to me had made beaded friendship bracelets (à la Taylor Swift) and even though my mom and I hadn’t made any, she gave us bracelets without expecting anything in return. People were friendly, eager to talk about their history with the bands we were there to see. I felt connected to the people around me even though I didn’t even know their names.
As Bring Me the Horizon, the opening act, began playing, those feelings of connection intensified. Though I knew nothing about the band or their music, seeing everyone around me sing along and headbang to the songs made me feel secondhand elation. When Fall Out Boy came out, I got to be a part of that joy firsthand. I scream-sang until I was hoarse. Looking around and seeing so many people doing the same made me feel pure joy. It was a wonderful reminder of how music really does bring people together, cheesy as it is to say.
Another form of that community was found in the feeling of catharsis. Some of the songs played hit home for me in personal ways. Singing those songs with everyone else, knowing that many others related to the words being sung, was powerful. I’ve rarely had that experience before, and I believe it is because an emotional release can be felt through music. Hearing it live just amplifies that feeling.
I left the Fall Out Boy concert hopped up on adrenaline, bracelets lining my wrists, and feeling incredibly happy. When the band announced that they were having a second leg of the tour, with a stop in Orlando, me and my mom got tickets immediately. We’ve been making friendship bracelets for months, and I can’t wait for this concert and the ones that are yet to come.