i went to a concert. alone.

my mom thinks i’m crazy for doing so, but like i told her, “i’m the best goddamn company i know.”

i’m a huge advocate for doing things alone. as an anxious person, doing simple things like eating alone or even going to the gym alone used to send me spiraling. but over time, i’ve pushed myself to step further and further out of my comfort zone until i don’t think twice about it. because if anyone sees me doing anything alone and for some reason thinks that i’m weird or anything, well shame on them. they need to do some serious self reflection.

when the Lollapalooza lineup came out this year, i knew i wanted to go. i told myself that no matter what, i was going all four days, come hell or high water. the day i REALLY cared about was Saturday. in little letters, the lineup poster read “The Backseat Lovers” under the Saturday heading. oh baby! say no more! i was dead set on seeing my favorite band perform at Lollapalooza.

i tried coordinating with some friends over the summer to really no avail. and i was so upset. i knew that if i didn’t end up going, i would feel really disappointed in myself. like i let myself down because i missed out on an opportunity, once again. i have a bad habit of making a goal like this and then becoming really passive and then boom. opportunity passes me by. and the cycle continues. so i wanted to avoid that self-esteem crash if you will.

well SPOILER ALERT!!! i didn’t go to Lollapalooza this year. i sat at home that Saturday, but i really wasn’t feeling too bummed about missing out. when i thought about it, i would have been paying $150+ to see ONE band that i actually cared about. i just couldn’t justify it. i felt some FOMO because my friends ended up going anyways, but what really got me was the disappointment in myself!! here i was, missing out on something that i promised myself i would make happen and i failed. yeah, i felt like a failure and i began to doubt myself in terms of my future. if i couldn’t even make this silly little music festival work, how was i capable of creating the future i’ve always envisioned for myself? i felt so disheartened and defeated in a way.

clearly, things worked out.

i’ve come to learn that things always work out, maybe not the way i plan or even want necessarily, but nevertheless–it works out.

i knew The Backseat Lovers were touring, but for some reason I didn’t even bother to look up their schedule. the odds of them coming anywhere near where i lived (aka the cornstalks of Indiana) was slim to none. you can imagine my pure elation when my google search pinged results for tickets to their show in Indianapolis on Wednesday, which was only three days away. for a mere $18, mind you. i about pissed my bloomers on the spot!! EIGHTEEN DOLLARS ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!! i plugged in my debit card information faster than you can say, “i wanna be YOUR backseat lover!”

so i had the ticket. but no company. and after the two people i texted to go with me said they were busy, i just decided to go alone. didn’t even think twice. i rode that adrenaline rush for a few hours, honestly. i was SO excited, and i hadn’t felt that giddy about…well, anything in a while.

when i woke up the next day, the nerves and the doubt started to kick in. surely *i* could not just roll up to a concert venue i’ve never been to, in a part of Indy i’ve never been to, where i know absolutely not a single soul. more than anything, i admire people who seize the opportunity even if they have to go alone. and i really didn’t think i could be one of those people!

i am, though. i rolled up to the HI-FI Annex in Fountain Square at promptly 6pm. armed with a borrowed fanny pack and a denim shirt in case i got COLD in the sweltering direct sunshine, i walked into the outdoor venue, chin up, shoulders back. this was the worst part. i didn’t have anyone to talk to at all. i walked directly into the crowd which was only a few rows deep at that point, and i stood and just looked around. partly looking for holes in the crowd to sneak to the front, partly seeking out a few kind looking souls that would take me in. i may have texted my best friend for some hyping.

as i stood there, i was so worried that i would stick out like a sore thumb. that everyone would be looking at me and noticing how i was all alone. in reality, i think i went almost unnoticed. it was like i wasn’t even there which wasn’t a good or a bad thing. it allowed me to take in my surroundings and not feel pressured to entertain someone that i dragged along with me. and i knew that if i got REALLY uncomfortable, then i could leave and not have to answer to anyone.

minutes before the opening act took the stage, two girls stepped in front of me. i tapped one on the arm and said, “oh i really like your tattoo!” we got to talking and when she asked who i came with, prompting me to explain that i came alone, she grabbed my arm and announced to her sister that i would be “with them” the rest of the evening. BINGO! found my kind souls! i didn’t feel alone after that.

for the record, The Backseat Lovers are amazing. like out-of-this-world, shoot-galaxy-rainbows-out-of-my-ass amazing, in my humble opinion. i was in awe the entire set. you know a band is good when they’re even better live. i was so disappointed when they walked offstage without performing my absolute favorite song (ever), “Sinking Ship.” the crowd started yelling ENCORE and to my little heart’s amazement, the opening chords began. one of the girls i’d befriended squeezed my arm as we sang along and i thought what better way to end the night.

i’m not going to sit and recount my entire concert experience, but it was the best night i have had in a long time. and i did it all by myself and for that, i am so damn proud.

kind souls that took me in for the night

so…would i do it again?

absolutely.

this is when my mom’s voice comes in asking but why?

my self-esteem has improved.

i’ll be honest, i feel pretty good about myself. i mean i made it happen! yeah, i missed out on Lollapalooza, but in hindsight, i didn’t really miss out on anything. i ended up with a much much better (and way cheaper) opportunity. and the fact that i pulled it off, successfully, really gave me a huge boost in self-esteem because i kept that promise to myself. i also have the confidence that i could do it again if i wanted, and i can do ever bigger things without needing to depend on anyone else. i’m excited.

meeting new people.

i don’t think i would have met the people i did if i wasn’t alone. while talking with one of the girls between sets, she told me all about the surrounding area and gave me a list of cool spots in Indy to visit. and she explained how she goes with her sister to all these concerts all the time and i just thought that was so cool. i actually briefly talked to another pair of girls earlier in the night who i found out were recent high school grads and one of them had plans to attend bible college in Hawaii in September. i ran into them when i was leaving the venue afterwards. i couldn’t tell you their names, but as we walked down the streetlamp lit street, their kindness will always be remembered and the fact that the one chose to go to school all the way in Hawaii, by herself, will continue to impact and inspire me.

having a raw, uninterrupted experience.

i’ve already said this, but i didn’t feel pressure to make sure anyone else was enjoying themselves. i didn’t have to wonder if they thought the music was a load of garbage or if they regretted coming. and i didn’t feel weird about singing along or dancing, because sometimes i do feel that when i go with others. weird, but i was less inclined to restrict myself if no one knew me or would see me again, for that matter.

fully realizing that there is SO MUCH more to life than the familiar bubbles i tend to limit myself to.

as i stood amongst the doc-marten-clad-crowd, i marveled at the variety of outfits and the meshing of people at this event. all these people from all over the country. and we all came together and crossed paths however briefly to share something in common. excuse my flair for the dramatic. i sat and wondered what it must be like in Utah, and as my subconscious was telling me that i’d never know because i’ll just stay in Greendingle, IN forever, a little voice piped up with “you can go, you know.” or seeing a really cool outfit and hearing my subconscious tell me that i’d never be able to emulate that sense of style. “you can, you know.” i want to experience the subcultures that pique my curiosity and the places that i dream about (more than Utah). it’s an everyday battle to fight the mean voice in my head that convinces me that very accessible things are so far out of my reach.

stop waiting for someone else to go with you! just GO, for the love of all things holy. it’s like that pinterest quote “i was never going to go if i waited for someone to come with me.” buy the ticket, plan the outfit, and go carpe diem that shit already. it’s really not as big of a deal as some people make it.

“if it’s me you’re waiting on, then i’ll say spend your time on someone else’s sinkin’ ship.”

Mack ❤

having an online presence

it’s hard not to have one nowadays. my grandma has snapchat and even my cousin’s dog has an instagram account.

everyone talks about how too much social media is bad for your mental health, which it is, and how dangerous, no-good people are lurking in the shadows of cyberspace, which they are.

but i’m not here to preach about that.

i just want to talk about MY online presence and MY experiences. (because it’s all about me on this corner of the Web!!!)

if my dad were to read this, i can already hear his sweet voice crowing “THEN JUST DELETE IT!!!” yes, thank you Captain Obvious, but times are different from when you walked uphill both ways to school in seven foot snow drifts.

to get to the jist of it: lately, i have been experiencing a lot of discomfort towards my online presence altogether. which is a reason that i haven’t been posting blogs as frequently as i have in the past.

personally, i hate instagram. it’s part of my little social media routine of course, you know i scroll a bit, double tap on a perfectly curated photo of one of my favorite influencers, watch a few friends’ stories. you know how it goes. and occasionally, i’ll post here and there. but not until i’ve poured over my post and nitpicked everything, ultimately deciding against sharing it with the world. and then i come back the next day and gear up to post my silly little instagram post and the cycle repeats. and i get anxiety about how people will react to my silly little instagram post, even though i will never really know, (which is such a stupid thing i can’t even believe i’m talking about it). and the likes flood in and the cute comments from my friends trickle in and the dopamine receptors in my noggin start to go brazy! then, after i stop getting notifications from my post, instagram becomes the same thing. full of ads and photoshopped photos and false information.

the reason i keep instagram is simple: it’s where everyone is. it’s how i keep in touch with so many people which of course is both good and bad. like you know those people i played volleyball with for one season and we got along, but we never actually hang out. or the people from school that i know via a friend of a friend, yeah i get to see their little fourth of july pics. sometimes that gets old and i don’t care anymore. so i go onto my little burner account and post whatever i want and i don’t think twice really. i only have like 50 followers which keeps it low stress. i only follow people on there that i actually care about so i don’t see all the other rubbish on my feed. i love it. my burner account keeps the ‘gram fun and flirty for me.

my favorite social media is twitter. by FAR. some will argue that twitter is one of the most toxic apps, but i disagree. i understand how it could be toxic if you have a huge account, people love to cause arguments in threads over the dumbest things. the smallest nuances can be misinterpreted and before you know it, you’re viral and being trolled in thousands of threads. it’s a scary thing, and it’s always in the back of my mind. but for me, it’s a way i can engage in the whole social media world without all the drama from instagram. twitter isn’t driven by visuals, it’s driven by text. clearly as a *writer* it caters to me in a way. the downside to twitter is that it’s almost like an insight to my thoughts and my life and into others’ thoughts and lives. in a way, it’s less privacy. i love twitter because i think it allows me to show my personality but it also gives an inside look into my thoughts + feelings. for example, people tend to “like” or “retweet” things that resonate with them especially in the current moment. so if you go through my likes and see a whole bunch of sad quotes or something, you’re gonna know that i’m in a sad mood. or if you see a bunch of tweets about boys, you’ll know i’m involved with someone. and i don’t like that! i don’t like people knowing my business like that if they don’t have access to me anymore. i know it’s not an uncommon thing, but i’ve had exes confess that they and their friends would like analyze my tweets to see if i was referencing them. or they’d read my blogs if we weren’t on speaking terms. obviously people are going to do that, but it’s weird for me to think about. to me, it’s like well why do you still get to know what i’m up to if you aren’t in my life??? well babe, that’s the point of an online presence!! “then switch your account to private, DUH!!!” yeah, i know okay but i just don’t want to do that for some reason. i’ll just stay in this uncomfortable space.

like twitter, my blog is obviously a highway into my mind at any given time. i love this platform i’ve built for myself even if it needs a lot of overhaul. but it also gives me a lot of anxiety sometimes. the act of writing is so vulnerable because there’s a chance someone could see it and read it which is the whole point of my blog. it’s just so weird to me that when you read something that someone wrote, even if it’s not a particularly sappy subject, it’s still vulnerable because you’re literally consuming thoughts that someone had. does that make sense??? instead of showing you pictures of myself, i’m showing you the most vulnerable part of myself!!! and it gets uncomfortable at times. even writing this, i feel uncomfortable because i think well what if none of this makes sense and people will think i’m just dumb and explaining the obvious.

i’ve noticed a shift in how i regard this platform since i started it in high school. it started as just an outlet for me to mess around and get a feel for posting whatever the hell i wanted to write about. that’s all it was, i wrote about things that mattered to me at the time like my senior jeans that i painted. back then, the only people that read those blogs were my close family and maybe a few people from my close-knit community who knew me. nothing escaped the bubble.

now that i’m in college, i don’t have a grip on who reads this stuff. depauw is a whole new community. i mean, i don’t have a huge following or anything, not even close. honestly, i’m kinda in the dark on how many people i’m actually reaching. but it’s enough that people i’ve never met before tell me they read the blogs. and I LOVE IT, it makes me so so happy to know that people tap my link and read my thoughts or care what i have to say. especially when people that i have a lot of respect for say that they’re “fans” of the blog, it makes my day!

actually, it spans beyond just my peers reading this stuff. as with other social media, employers look into this stuff. personally, i don’t believe that someone’s social media should be a basis of employment or anything unless that it is a part of the job description. for example, i worked as a social media assistant for the depauw marketing team this past year and of course, my boss looked into my social media and my blog. that makes sense. but now, i have a little concern for the future. when i started the blog, i never intended for it to be part of my portfolio for job applications. it was just a way for me to dip my toes into the water and to have fun with writing again because i was bored and uninspired writing essay after essay in school. now, i have to be cognizant that my future employer will probably be looking into this. (i mean when i get a job in my intended field, which right now as an english major is publishing/editing). don’t get me wrong, i love my blog but i’m aware that it’s not exactly “professional.” and it isn’t supposed to be professional! it’s supposed to be a creative outlet where i don’t have to worry about formality! it’s supposed to be fun. but once i think about all this stuff, it isn’t much fun anymore.

having this platform is kinda like a double edged sword. i have the opportunity to voice my opinions/thoughts/feelings and express myself freely. i get to write what i want (for the most part) with the possibility of it resonating with someone else and building a little community. on the other hand, i open myself to criticism and judgment. i can’t control who consumes my writing. imagine a stranger reading about one of the most vulnerable parts of your life and having that information. what about the people who actually know you? sometimes, i muse about how someone has this information about me during a conversation with them. i have actually had moments where people ask me how i’m really doing because they read my blog about how i was going through a little bump in the road and i couldn’t play it off because they already read it! uncomfy!

what is most concerning to me is that my vulnerabilities will be used against me in some way. it’s like giving someone the ammunition to shoot you down.

there are things that i want to write about SO BADLY because i think that it would resonate with a LOT of people and you know, i think i have some good wisdom to share. but i haven’t quite figured out how to do that. i’ve gotten very weird about writing about other people because in certain situations, i don’t want that person to know i’m referring to them or even i don’t want other people to know who i’m talking about if that makes sense. for example, i’ve wanted to write about navigating the dating world in this day and age but the thought of people reading it and knowing who i’m referring to makes me uncomfy. i know what you’re thinking. “Ummm didn’t you write a detailed post about your breakup last year?” and the answer to that is a simple yes. i want to die laughing when i think about it because i don’t know why someone didn’t stop me from putting that online for hundreds of people to know the tea. you live and you learn, but this is what i’m talking about. there’s no way to get around that and it’s weird because on one hand, it’s my experience to share. but it’s also a shared experience and how do you get consent to publicly discuss it if you don’t even talk to the person anymore?

anyways, i know that i probably provided myself a lot of solutions to my issues outlined in this blog. but i often times refuse to take my own advice.

Mack