Taylor Swift's Eras Tour Is About More Than Her Musical Eras — It's About All Of Us

It’s both embarrassing and incredibly freeing to admit my desperate need to stand out from the crowd. As a triple Sagittarius (I know), I’m a self-described agent of chaos who thrives on theatrics and activates for an audience. For all intents and purposes, Taylor should and would have been my bread and butter.

Sure, certain songs stood out — “Wildest Dreams” was the perfect anthem for the Tumblr-era glory of 2014. But, I didn’t genuinely come around until Lover.

I’ve done a lot of soul searching since then, parsing through the particularities that led me down this path. It hit me one day, after years of therapy and some serious work on myself, that I disliked her for the reasons I disliked myself. I was too much, too loud, too extra, too performative, too quirky, too girly, too…everything. And yet, my fear of invisibility stoked every single fire again and again. Like my Sagittarius sister, I’d been the archer and the prey.

So, I passed every opportunity to end up at a Taylor Swift concert as a legitimate fan. Until now.

I arrived at the Eras Tour at MetLife Stadium on Saturday, May 27, heart pumping. Tiktok gave me the blueprint — what to wear, how to film better, when to expect surprise songs — but no tip could prepare me for Taylor in her entirety.

Fans flocked to the stadium in full force, bringing an energy I’ve never seen before.

“Would you like a bracelet?”

“I love your outfit!”

“Do you want me to take a picture for you?”

Before I even walked on the floor, I was on cloud nine. As a Born Again Swiftie, I’m acutely aware that I could easily be considered a bandwagon fan, but nobody made me feel like that. Even the bathroom line (long and lasting) was full of friendly banter and compliments. Everyone was warm, everyone was excited, and everyone was really there for one reason — to witness the sheer magnitude of Mother Taylor.

I only heard echoes of Gracie Abrams and Phoebe Bridgers from the chicken finger line, but the singer-songwriters started the show off with a beautiful bang. People laughed and cried and applauded as loudly as they would for any headlining act. Little did I know, that was just the beginning.

The moment the countdown clock hit two minutes, MetLife Stadium shook. People screamed. I knew I was in for something truly spectacular.

From start to finish, Taylor gave a gorgeous, effortless performance. Every costume, every piece of choreography, every visual, every vocal — she didn’t miss a mark.

The show opens in the Lover era, with pinks and purples billowing across the stage in all their girly glory. While the beautiful background and looming stadium may swallow any other artist whole, Taylor commanded the stage instantly, striking strong poses and strutting confidently from corner to corner.

And it was like that for every section — over the next three and a half hours.

For Fearless, Taylor fluttered and flounced, bringing back the frenetic energy of our youth. Her evermore set evoked wonder and witchcraft. For reputation, she was sexy and sure of herself, ready to play the villain or pursue you at whatever cost. For Speak Now, she literally gave us the sparkling night every girl dreamt of. The list goes on.

While “Cruel Summer” (and its iconic bridge) couldn’t have been a more perfect opener, the second half of the show was quite possibly everything to me. From Red to Midnights, she played hit after hit after hit. In the same way her earlier albums (and the first half of the show) captured the whimsy of our youth, the second half celebrated the absolute fun and chaos and energy of our early adulthood — and she embodied that to the fullest.

From “22” to “Shake It Off,” Taylor had the audience in the palm of her hand, scream-singing and dancing together. I had to check if I still had eyebrows after she lit the stage on fire (literally) with “Bad Blood.” The whole place shimmered, Mikael spirit fingers and all, when she busted out “Bejeweled.”

And while there was the less boppy, folkore-ian interlude, even still she enthralled the audience. The set, choreography, and acting for “The Last Great American Dynasty” were a modern Broadway musical condensed into four minutes. I could have watched an entire show just about that story, but a single smirk between Taylor and the dancer portraying Rebekah — a small, sincere gesture symbolizing a reclamation of loudness, shamelessness, and independence — perfectly summed up the narrative.

That’s the real story with Taylor and her eras. We’ve watched her grow through each moment, witnessing and coveting and analyzing her every single move. And in analyzing her, like me, many of us were really analyzing ourselves. But in that verbal and visual reclamation, Taylor gives us all permission to fully be ourselves as she grants herself the very same.

Maybe she had a lot of boyfriends. Maybe I was a capital T Theatre Kid. Maybe we were all just too damn much. Or maybe we were just right.