Experiencing the Eras Tour Without Being There

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The other day, I was driving to work with Taylor Swift blasting through my speakers (as one does), and I caught myself replaying the Eras Tour in my head. It’s been well over a year since the first show, but somehow those moments still feel so alive, so real.

Which is kind of wild, because here’s the kicker: I wasn’t actually there.

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No, I didn’t step foot in a stadium. I didn’t trade friendship bracelets in a line that wrapped around a parking lot. I didn’t scream “Karma is the guy on the Chiefs” in unison with a sea of sequins. But thanks to the Swiftie community, I still lived the Eras Tour.

Every night, fans held up their phones for hours, balancing shaky hands and portable chargers, sacrificing their battery life and their data plans, so people like me could watch. Some streamed on TikTok, some on Instagram, some even funneled those already-blurry livestreams onto YouTube so that anyone who wanted in could be in. It became this ritual: checking who was going live that night, rushing into the comments with thousands of other fans, and feeling this weird, beautiful connection.

And it wasn’t just about the setlist. The Eras Tour was an event. Announcements dropped like confetti, shocking us in real-time. I’ll never forget watching the livestream where Taylor announced Speak Now (Taylor’s Version)—the collective scream in the chat could’ve powered the stadium lights. Or the absolute chaos the night she revealed 1989 (Taylor’s Version), and everyone instantly started speculating about vault tracks. And of course, The Tortured Poets Department announcement. Watching that unfold live—even from a distance—felt historic. You could feel the energy ripple through the fandom, across continents, through screens.

I think that’s what makes it so special: the shared experience. We weren’t just watching a concert. We were watching history, together. Every surprise song reveal became its own fandom holiday. We’d gather around our screens like it was Swiftie Christmas, hoping for a certain track, gasping when the first few notes started. I’ll never forget screaming into my pillow when “Last Kiss” finally appeared, or the pure chaos of “You’re On Your Own, Kid” with its friendship bracelet lore coming full circle.

Even though I wasn’t in the stadium, I still felt those goosebumps. I still had that pit in my stomach when Taylor went quiet before a surprise announcement. I still laughed when a fan screamed something chaotic and Taylor smirked in response. I still cried during “champagne problems,” even while watching it through a pixelated screen on a random Tuesday night.

And honestly? That’s magic. It made me realize that the Eras Tour wasn’t just about Taylor—it was about us. The Swifties who made friendship bracelets even if we couldn’t trade them. The ones who stayed up until 2 a.m. watching livestreams from the other side of the world. The ones who celebrated album announcements together in real-time chatrooms, comment sections, and Discord servers.

The tour reminded me that community isn’t always about being physically present. It’s about connection. And Taylor built a world big enough for all of us to step into, no matter where we were.

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So no, my feet didn’t hit the stadium floor. But my heart did. And when I look back, I don’t just feel like I watched the Eras Tour. I feel like I experienced it.

And I’ll be forever grateful for the fans who made sure none of us were left behind.

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Long live the memories we made,

xoxo MJ 🎇