My time at the Taylor Swift concert requires a thesis complex enough for a law review article. Since I love a good thesis, let’s have it be this: The experience, and Taylor herself, both exceeded and somewhat failed to meet, expectations — but that is how the best, truest things often are.

Intro: The end and the beginning: the bracelets

I am writing this with six friendship bracelets jangling on my left hand, only one of which I made for myself — “overdramatic and true” from Lover, which I will eventually give to my Mom, who wanted one. I began with more bracelets, but some were given away in exchange for nothing. My favorite friendship bracelet, “loving you is Red,” was received the day before the concert from a fellow law prof who also attended the concert with her partner, although she had much better seats. I was five rows from the very top of the stadium, which I feared would make me feel disconnected from the concert, but it did not.

My second favorite friendship bracelet was one I procured from a stranger. Exchanges happened in random and symbolic ways. Looking at one girl’s stash, I chose one of the first ones I saw and absolutely loved, which was exceptionally fitting for me. It just says “IDK,” with red, green, and yellow beads, like the traffic lights in Death by a Thousand Cuts that didn’t know if Taylor Swift would be all right.

I was worried initially that exchanges weren’t happening in the fun, open, loving Taylor Swift way I expected, but then they were. For example, some girls complimented my shorts, which friends helped me bedazzle into the word “Archer,” and I bounded up several rows to exchange bracelets with the group of complimenters with them. My outfit was mostly Red Era, because Red is my favorite song (my friend made me a shirt that says “flying through the freefall”), but I had a bit of Lover, my favorite album.

Folklore is my second favorite album, and I was certainly not going to take the inevitably-needed bathroom break during that set, but luckily the friend I went with agreed to go earlier, during Enchanted. I barely knew the woman who became my friend and concert-mate, a fellow aerialist from my dance studio in Ohio, when I put up posts on social media asking if anyone wanted to see the Eras Tour with me in Los Angeles. Luckily for me, this woman is the exact opposite of me, and she believes in a form of spiritual mysticism that told her the universe was telling her to do this with me. I can be annoyingly hyper-rational, but she was absolutely my Taylor Swift guardian angel. Indeed, we knew each other so little that she thought that when my friends referred to me as professor, it was a joke, like I know things. We didn’t know each other’s jobs. But we both knew that seeing Taylor Swift in Los Angeles was something we needed to do.

She dressed as 1989, and this was her third Eras concert. She is a dedicated Swiftie. I am unclear as to whether I am a Swiftie. Like the bracelet says, IDK.

Part I: Am I a Swiftie?

I never considered myself a Swiftie. I have long casually liked her music, and the concert reminded me of all these songs I knew the words to from way back when, before Taylor Swift was a phenomenon and psychological puzzle to me, and before her lyrics moved me and changed me and became profound to me in literary ways. Now, songs like The 1 and Cardigan, and their interesting juxtapositions, have altered my perspectives on ideas like love. But I knew all the words to I Knew You Were Trouble from a time when her lyrics were just fun and catchy, and the concert reminded me of this past self, as it did for many of us. A girl sitting two seats away from me, who was sitting by herself and was crying for much of the concert, also went through phases of feeling differently about Taylor Swift. Apparently, it was not cool to like TS when she was in high school, and then it became cool again.

A few months ago, for personal reasons, I began listening to Taylor Swift much more. I became fascinated by her life and story, like many, and I listened multiple times to the outrageously excellent podcast, Every Single Album; Taylor Swift. I learned about her personal and musical evolution in ways that deepened my peripheral, glossy understanding of these topics. I wanted to know more and more. I got into the lore. I got into the cultural phenomenon. Her life is a show I was delighted to watch, and that podcast told me that if I really wanted to, tickets were accessible to me. Yes, the price was steep, but I live in Ohio and my favorite food is Kraft Mac and Cheese. I decided to treat myself.

Here’s the thing. I never wholeheartedly like anything, and certainly nothing as complex as Taylor Swift. Her songs are gorgeous and interesting and vivid, but she’s not like Bob Dylan or Simon and Garfunkel to me. I would describe her as talented, but not a genius, and I worry that we dilute society’s understanding of genius by the comparisons being made. She is not generally novel in a profound way. [Edit- many of her songs have a lyrical originality that is perspective-shifting and life-altering, and she certainly captures the inner life and emotional experience of many people, and even beautifully captures her own existence in a way that communicates something remarkable and previously ineffable and makes us all more connected to ourselves and to her.] She is a weird mix of super talented/genetically gifted/uncommonly hardworking, and also the everyman/everywoman. Whatever magic she has that got basically everyone around me at the concert to almost effortlessly know all the lyrics to every one of her songs, including the surprise songs, I wouldn’t consider it to be the kind of thing that animates the question “how many roads must a man walk down before you can call him a man,” or even “hello darkness my old friend.” [Edit: that said, I could listen to Taylor Swift music nonstop potentially forever, over and over.]

And here’s the other thing. I like Jake Gyllenhaal. I dislike that she dug up a relationship ten years dead knowing that the Internet would bully him. She seems like a good, caring person, but sometimes she appears very thoughtless. I dislike the kind of feminism that has women feeling like every loss is a slight due to their gender. I don’t like The Man and don’t agree with it. I don’t find her often positioning herself as the victim empowering.

Does calling oneself a Swiftie require worshipping her in cult-like fashion? Like the bracelet says, IDK. But a Lyft driver told me that traveling 11 hours to see her, due to plane delays, meant I was one.

A different Lyft driver, a lovely Egyptian-American man who has long lived in Los Angeles, didn’t know who Taylor Swift is, and he asked for me to write her name on a napkin. I included a number of her songs, and my professor friends with the good seats added other necessary ones to represent her oeuvre via text. This list-making was on the way to the concert, and it certainly re-invigorated my view of how exceptional she is as an artist, because I loved all these songs and many more.

Part II: The Concert

The actual concert was some combination of group singalong and dance party, people-watching spectacle, and awe-inspiring gaze at a famous person whose personality and career I find fascinating to the point of potential starstruck obsession. I don’t think I got the concert-euphoria amnesia described by some, but reviewing the sporadic videos I captured later – I wanted to also be quite present and not on my phone – made me appreciate the experience even more, so memory definitely clouds my understanding of the event.

The opening acts of Gayle and Haim were fantastic, by the way. The countdown to Taylor was exciting, and we made friends with people around us. I imagine Los Angeles has a slightly less hometown feel than other places, but it was still very open and friendly. SoFi is an incredible stadium, and I felt totally part of the action.

I didn’t memorize the setlist on purpose, but people kept cuing me to what was coming next, and when it was about to be The Archer, my friend signaled, and I noticed from the first few notes and became incredibly excited.

Let me just show you Archer, one of my favorite songs and the word written on the back of my shorts.

I wanted to follow Taylor like a sparkly princess around the stage but mainly watched the giant screens and the joyful people around me, all dressed as different eras. Some performances were so emotional to me that I had spontaneous welling up, like Marjorie, which made me think of my own, extremely different, grandmother, and like My Tears Ricochet, to which I attach personal meaning. Other moments, candidly, felt like a slog. She marches through each number, one by one, sometimes in an almost perfunctory way. I was at the very last concert on the U.S. leg for a while, and she must have been very tired of doing this. It didn’t always feel super fresh, and the concert is long. I was reminded, at times, of how her music, while quite expressive, often lacks soul. She doesn’t have this primal, raw, soulful element I get from Sam Cooke, Aretha, Amy Winehouse, or even Adele. Taylor and I have very different backgrounds, and perhaps different things move us. But she did move me quite a lot, at times. I kept wanting to know where she was on the stage.

Part II.A: Surprise Songs

Many of us knew that New Romantics would be one of the surprise songs. I now like that song in a new way. I do adore the message of embracing love and heartbreak and fighting battles together. Here I am singing.

This was never one of my favorite songs, but now it is.

New Year’s Day is not a song I love, and I was a bit heartbroken she didn’t play Cornelia Street as the second surprise song. I now have read all the Karlie Kloss lore and am of two minds about it.

Part II.B: The Release of 1989, Taylor’s Version

One reason I may not be a true Swiftie is because I am not that invested in her re-leasing albums to own her masters. It feels a bit gimmicky, another way to position herself as the underdog when her original album made her who she was, which is (deservedly) incredibly rich. I think she’s also had new opportunities to purchase her masters, but now she’s committed to the project, which doesn’t feel entirely genuine. I like listening to the old versions, and I don’t love the implied guilt in doing so. I do relish her releases from the vault.

My friend/concert-mate was extremely excited for the announcement that 1989 Taylor’s Version is coming, but I don’t love 1989. I love Taylor in fiery love, or Taylor in contemplation, which is why Lover and Folklore are my favorite albums and Red is my favorite song. I don’t love the bops as much – some of Red excepting. So, this wasn’t the moment for me that it was for others, but I do look forward to the October release.

Conclusion: The end and the beginning, again

I ultimately didn’t want the concert to end, especially not how it did. I was hoping for something extra for those of us who chose her last U.S. concert, before she shockingly announced even more U.S. dates. I wanted something more. Another surprise song. A nod. Another piece of her. I am not sure what. Perhaps part of her appeal is that she always leaves her fans wanting more of her, so accessible yet so distant.

I left the stadium in a daze, with my voice hoarse from the 8 minutes of screaming and cheering after Champagne Problems, which did not get old. It did not get old. It became a ritual to cheer for her after that song, and New York and Los Angeles had the longest cheers, and I wanted to break the record. It was such a release to cheer for so long. We were cheering for her, but we were cheering for all of us.

The next morning, at first I felt somehow disappointed, as maybe it wasn’t worth the money and travel and sleepless nights on a friend’s pullout couch and maybe the adulation was unearned. Then I watched my videos again and received another high from that unparalleled experience at SoFi. Thank you, Taylor Swift and the Swifties, for showing me incredible things.