All the albums in italics are part of Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour.

I admit it. Even though I’m way past the age of being a Swiftie, I love Taylor Swift. I saw Red before we even took pictures on our phones at concerts, and 1989 when the girls were too young to go to shows on their own, and made posters wishing Taylor a happy half-birthday.

Maybe it was a right of passage, but now that the girls are grown and in high school and college and still want to see Taylor, I couldn’t miss out on the fun, too, when tickets went out for the Eras Tour.

My High Schooler taught me everything I needed to know to hang with the Swifties. It made me feel good when I could Speak Now to Swifties for four and a half hours while waiting in line for “merch,” as they call it.

I could ask questions, “Have you memorized all the chants? Are you exchanging friendship bracelets, and how many are you making? (I only made four.) What album are you dressing up as? What night are you going to? What do you think the surprise songs will be?

I quickly learned the crew neck was the most sought-after item they were selling (though I didn’t buy anything for myself after waiting in that long line).

And I had a lot of insider information because I had been in Nashville the week before for my daughter’s college move-out, which coincided with Taylor Swift being in Nashville, too.

And, funny story, I locked the keys in the trunk. Though unrelated to Taylor Swift, that had to win me brownie points for some Folklore.

I laughed with my new-found Swiftie friends I met while standing in line with how people capitalize on Taylor Swift and how I’m not one of them. I wrote an article about the pre-concert craze for my friend’s magazine, which only elicited 89 views (it’s gone up a smidgen since then.) Not that I need to make any money off of Taylor, but couldn’t I have just a few of her loyal fans?

I have a thing or two to learn from Taylor about how to make a craze.

But as you can tell, I’m not a Swiftie. I didn’t exchange friendship bracelets pre-concert Friday night, though a stranger was so sweet she gave me one to add to the four I made beforehand to go with my outfit.

I dressed up in electric blue pants, not skin-revealing leotards, and glittery dresses with cowboy boots, but the lady checking me in commented that she loved my pants anyway. It made me feel good because I was starting to feel left out. Are there any Oldie Swifties out there?

Come to think of it; I didn’t see an older person at the concert. A few pregnant ladies showed their bellies, and some families were there, but most of the crowd was in their 20s and past the point of conversing.

Everything centered around the VIP tent right in front of us. “Oh, my God. It’s Sabrina Carpenter. No way. It’s Blake Lively. Did you see Phoebe Bridgers?”

Please tell me who these stars are. I’ll scream like I know them, too. Okay, no, I won’t.

And then, a giant graphic of a clock appeared, and the two-minute countdown began. Taylor was going to start precisely at 8. I had my video going, and my heart had stopped beating, but I could keep the video steady enough, and the girl next to me tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Excuse me. You’re not recording.”

Do I know how to stand out in a crowd? Thank God she was kind enough to tell me what I was doing wrong.

And then, Taylor appeared in the middle of the extended runway which made up the stage. Taylor started singing, and I couldn’t hear her while everyone screamed every word in my ear. Do these earplugs even work? I didn’t realize it was a karaoke concert.

And speaking of standing, I had to sit strategically between sets (even though none of the Swifties sat.) The graphics would turn into 3D objects and keep everyone standing so they didn’t miss anything, but my back hurt. (Thank God I wore sneakers. How can Taylor perform if I can’t stand for this?).

But a Swiftie doesn’t complain, whether she, he (the devoted boyfriend or father), or they (someone in drag, about five people dressed up as French Fries and an Olaf from what I could tell). My eldest later explained that Taylor had previously dressed that way.

Swifties know everything about Taylor. They also wait in long lines and pay exorbitant amounts of money to do so, and then when the lines are too long to the lady’s room, they start a line to the men’s room.

It’s all in the name of Lover for Taylor Swift.

Sometimes I’d look at my grown daughters (my High Schooler looked like she was “22”), screaming the words and blissfully dancing, and I wondered how Evermore they’ve loved Taylor through all her eras.

They’ve aged along with Taylor, and come to think of it, I’ve aged too.

How did my kids turn from kiddies to Swifties and then songwriters, and how did I end up in this audience?

The Swifties were kind enough to let me go along for the ride–through the eras of Taylor Swift’s musical journey that didn’t even span the eras of my life.

Sometimes I wonder how Taylor Swift is such a phenomenon. How does she do it? How do her fans stay so loyal?

Maybe I can’t get it because I’m not a Swiftie. Taylor perfectly rehearsed the show; she knew what to say and where to go, and when to tease her bangs. She danced as the music video came to life around her. And her fans knew all her lyrics by heart as they sang them back to her.

With the Eras Tour, Taylor burnt down the house she built her Reputation on. We’ve had our Midnights with Taylor, but now she’s reached a league even she doesn’t understand yet.

But I’ll never stop loving her. I’ll take whatever version she gives me, though I loved her most back in the day.

For Red, when we were trying to get to our seats in the nosebleed section, Alexandra, now dressed as Fearless, clung to the railing and wouldn’t go any further due to her fear of heights. I had the same fear, so I was just as relieved when guest services put us closer to the ground.

And for 1989, we left Alex with the posters the girls had made while we went to the bathroom. We came out, and Alex had made friends with a lady who invited us to go to the floor.

At this concert, we had great seats, which made us lucky, because no one offered to give us anything better.

But I forgot the earplugs. I had bought a whole bag of them and somehow didn’t pack one pair. I love Taylor Swift, but not enough to lose any more of my hearing over her.

I was so desperate, I would have paid any amount to get a pair. I even thought about getting my eyeglass wipe and cutting it up, but where could I get scissors? Maybe First Aid? In the middle of trying to solve my earplug problem, a worker walked by me.

I asked him if there was anywhere I could get any earplugs. He said, “Sure. Guest Services will give you some.”

Seriously? I would have paid any amount of money for them, I was so desperate.

Being so desperate to get those earplugs, I finally understood what it means to be a Swiftie. They’d pay any amount of money, it didn’t matter what they had to go through, they’d find a way to get there, and be ever so kind and grateful for what they got.

Only I have memories that none of these Swifties will ever have, and free earplugs.