Confessions of a Lifelong Fangirl

Fangirl: a female fan, especially one who is obsessive about comics, movies, music, or science fiction.

In my case, it’s music.

The first time I remember being obsessed over a musician was when I was around six years old. Jesse McCartney had just come out with Beautiful Soul and my little brain was convinced that we’d fall in love. I used to daydream about meeting him, certain that a family friend who happened to go to high school with his dad was my ticket to love.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

I caught Bieber fever next, and when my mom surprised me with tickets to see him at SAP Center, I was over the moon. I was convinced he’d pick me to be his One Less Lonely Girl, only to be disappointed when he brought the artist who opened for him out as the special one. I remember my mom consoling me, telling me I was a little too young for him and that my time would come.

And she was right. When I graduated from 8th grade, my mom surprised me again with tickets to see my favorite band in Las Vegas. The tickets came with a room at the hotel where they were performing, so we took a short flight to Nevada and got ready for what was going to be the most exciting 24 hours of my life as a fangirl.

That show was the first time I stood on the barricade and got to see my favorite boy band up close and personal.

I went nuts.

I was singing every song, lyric for lyric, screaming my head off, and having the time of my life. My favorite band member saw me and made a heart sign at me and high-fived me when he came off stage at the end of the night. The interaction was exhilarating and something I’d remember for the rest of my life.

I had been to a couple of concerts before this one, but being so close in a pit of excited fans suddenly made it all so much more real. I boarded a plane home the next morning with ringing ears and a new love for live music.

In high school, I started exploring new bands and attended my first concert without my mom. It was a lineup sponsored by our local radio station. I saw Alt-J, Spoon, Cage the Elephant, and Imagine Dragons. When the lead singer from Cage the Elephant started crowd surfing, I pulled my friend toward the open areas near the front, and through all the pushing and a bit of luck, we managed to reach the barricade. We helped carry the lead singer back to his rightful place on stage, and for the rest of the night, freaked out whenever we made eye contact or high-fived other band members.

Later in high school, I started a fan account for a niche boy band, and within a few months of posting edits of them from under my covers at 3 A.M., I had gained over 8,000 followers. I made friends in different parts of the country, learned A LOT about how to deal with mental health (and how to not deal with it, shoutout 2014 tumblr), and felt like I was part of a community, even in my loneliest times.

Being a fangirl has led me places I never would have gone on my own. I listened to new types of music, tried new hobbies like video editing and writing short stories, and made lots of new friends. It’s the one thing I’ve carried with me through all the different lives I’ve lived, something I turn to when I feel lost or alone.

I thought that when I entered my early twenties, I’d grow out of it, but at 26, I can confidently say I’m still very much obsessed with bands and music.

Fangirl life has just evolved into something different.

When I was a teenager, I always had a friend to come with me to concerts. Before that, my mom was the one taking me to see my favorite artists. But when I moved to New York, I realized I’d have to start going to concerts alone, or I’d never get to see anyone I loved live.

It was scary at first. Waiting in line alone, standing in the pit between the opener and the main performance—it felt weird. I thought everyone knew how awkward I felt. It doesn’t help that I stand at nearly six feet tall. I’ve seen people online talk about going to concerts alone and blending into the crowd, and unfortunately, that was not my experience. But even towering awkwardly over everyone, I lost myself in the music and the feeling of hearing songs I love live.

Thankfully, I now have a best friend who goes with me to almost every concert, but I learned a lot about myself during that time alone. Even though I felt awkward, it showed me that I can do things on my own and actually enjoy them.

I still struggle to be alone sometimes. Going to concerts solo didn’t magically fix my lifelong awkwardness, but it gave me proof that I can handle it. When I feel out of place or anxious now, I think back to those moments and remind myself I’ve done hard things before, and I can do them again.