Part 1: “Wildest Dreams” (The Quest)

“You’re my hero for this!”

I smiled through welled tears hearing my teenager, Chloe, say this to me after we entered the gates of Arrowhead stadium and were rounding the curved ramp descending to the bottom level.

As someone who often doesn’t feel like enough, or good enough, that was everything.

We were in awe. It felt surreal. Once we made it to our seats on the floor level, emotion overtook us and the thrill came out in the form of tears. That level of emotion continued throughout the rest of the three-and-a-half hour performance.

We didn’t have tickets to Taylor Swift’s sold-out Era’s tour when we embarked on our 5-hour road trip from Oklahoma City to Kansas City on July 7th, 2023. ‘It’ll be fun just to try,’ we told ourselves, and if it doesn’t work out, we’ll grab some famous KC BBQ and explore a city we’ve never been to.

It was almost all over before it began. Although we had been discussing the possibility of taking this trip for months, when we actually set off, it was with a sense of spontaneity, leaving much up to chance.

After being laid off in April, I fully believed that by the time this concert rolled around, I would have a new job and could focus on vacation planning thereafter. But that never happened. I had strongly been considering calling off the trip for the preceding month in an attempt to be financially responsible. I started becoming evasive when the girls brought it up, fearing that I might not be able to come through for them, and judging myself for being irresponsible for even considering going in my current situation. I began making comments like, ‘Well, we’ll see. I don’t know if it’s the most responsible decision right now.’

But as the summer went on, and we had more and more fun adventures together, my mindset started to shift. I realized I may never get time like this again with my girls, certainly not at these stages of their lives, and I’m more aware now than ever that I may not always be in a financial situation to indulge in spontaneous and exciting experiences with them. Ultimately I decided that we were gifted this adventure summer, that my current situation is actually undivided time to focus entirely on myself and my girls, and you can’t put a price on these memories.

So, we left everything about this trip up to chance, from the last-minute accommodations to the concert tickets themselves. We’ve gotten really good at last-minute packing this summer, knowing what to take, what we won’t use, what pieces are versatile, and where everything fits best.

After experiencing everything I had worked toward my whole adult life crumble over the last couple of years, including the dissolution of my marriage and a career shift, this trip was proof of my acceptance that despite our best efforts, we don’t have absolute control over anything. With that realization, I decided to let loose, and it’s been empowering. Anxieties have melted away and been replaced with a feeling of calm. This trip became the culmination of that newfound mindset. Whatever happens, happens, but you have to put yourself out there to even have a chance.

“You’re My Hero For This”

We’d been searching StubHub and Vivid for tickets for months with no luck. We just couldn’t justify prices in the thousands for seats in the nosebleeds, although, after walking away from that experience I’m convinced no one left that area unsatisfied.

At three hours til showtime we arrived at our weekend dwelling— the enchanting home of my cousin and his fiancé, nestled in the eclectic Waldo neighborhood of Kansas City. Their generous gesture of hospitality allowed us to savor the cozy comforts of their house during our visit while they were away for the weekend, and to add a layer of excitement to the trip, we had been told tales of the presence of a friendly, youthful spirit in the historic home.

We continued searching for tickets while simultaneously applying our customary Taylor red lipstick, willing the night to manifest our desired outcome.

At one point Chloe lamented,” it’s already so late and we still don’t have tickets. We should just try for tomorrow.”

“But we look good tonight!” I playfully replied. “Let’s try to go to the stadium. Maybe we can hang out with other fans and make friends in the parking lot and hear the concert from outside.”

“Are we just gonna stay outside of the stadium all night?” she said, her face displaying her displeasure.

“We can decide whatever we want!” I said. “Let’s just head that way and see where the night takes us.”

With an hour left til showtime, we headed toward the venue. The 20 minute drive to Arrowhead stadium took 45 minutes, and another 20 just to get into the parking lot. All roads leading to the arena were inundated with vehicles, causing traffic to crawl from every direction.

We turned onto the road leading into the parking lot and were met with a large, electronic traffic sign warning us that parking was $65, and tickets were required to get into the parking lot. It was too late, there was nowhere to turn around. Nowhere to go but forward. We spent the 20 minutes inching toward the parking gates attempting to even pull up ticketing websites but cell tower traffic was as congested as the road traffic and by the time we pulled up to the booth, we didn’t have tickets to scan. We were shamed with a yellow X marked with what looked like a Bingo dauber in the corner of the driver’s side window and were told to put our hazards on so police officers would see us and direct us out of the parking lot. But they never came.

“I’m hungry,” Chloe said in defeat. “Let’s just go get some barbecue and we can try again tomorrow.”

But we circled the parking lot like the yellow brick road in reverse, getting closer and closer to the center, never seeing an exit. So I made a decision. I turned off the hazards, pulled into a parking space and asked Chloe for a baby wipe.

She looked confused as she opened the glove compartment and pulled out the package of wipes I habitually keep in the car even though I no longer have young babies. You never know when they’ll come in handy.

I pulled a wipe from the package and rolled down my window far enough for my arm to fit through.

“Mom, what are you doing?” she asked incredulously.

I reached my hand out the window and wiped the yellow X off the window.

“We’re stuck in here anyway, we might as well keep trying,” I said. “Both of you, keep searching for tickets,” I ordered, a new wave of determination overtaking me.

Suddenly, I found myself hoping to transform this experience into a triumph and a teaching moment, as it reminded me that sometimes great payoffs require taking bold risks.

What ensued next was a blur of fingers frantically typing. We could hear the echos of the opening act, already performing. Even from our distant view we could see her on the jumbotron, suspended high above the stage in the stadium.

“Oh my god, the prices are dropping.”

“I don’t have any reception. I can’t get anything to load.”

“Oh look, here’s one!”

“Ugh, that one’s gone now.”

“Let’s walk to the back of the parking lot and try from there,” I suggested, and we all got out of the car and started walking in the opposite direction of the stadium.

“We’re gonna get caught,” Claire said to me. “They’re gonna stop us and think it’s weird we’re walking this way.”

“They don’t care,” I told them. “We’re just going to meet your friend so we can all walk in together,” I winked at them. “Just keep trying.”

They nodded in understanding. The batteries on our cell phones were draining from overworking the data. We kept working away.

“Now remember, if you find tickets, the only way to purchase them is from my phone cuz I don’t my new card, yet,” I reminded them.

Just the day before my credit card had been compromised and had to be closed for safety, so purchasing through Apple Pay on my phone with my new card information was our only option.

The second act was now on stage. I found three tickets at a discounted price, not as low as I had hoped for, but we were invested, so I went for it. I clicked purchase, but when I tried to confirm by double clicking the button on the side of my phone, I got a red message indicating that they had been purchased by someone else. That set wasn’t meant to be

Undeterred, we powered on.

“Airdropped,” Chloe said after a time and turned her phone to me. I stared in disbelief.

“Floor seats?” I asked her, my eyes wide.

“Cheapest tickets we’ve seen so far!” she said excitedly.

“Okay, let’s try,” I said.

We all three gathered around my phone, watching in suspense as it actually loaded. I quickly double-clicked the button on the side of my phone to confirm the purchase. It scanned my face. We saw the words Processing Payment and a spinning red circle taunting us.

Then the circle changed to a blue checkmark. The word Done replaced Processing Payment.

I stared at it for a moment. “Done.” I said aloud in triumph, still looking down.

Then I looked up to see the girls’ disbelieving faces. All of our mouths agape.

We had done it.

“Oh my Gosh. No way.” Chloe said in disbelief. “Really?!”

Slowly all of our mouths shifted into amazed smiles, eyes bright with triumphant disbelief and newfound hope.

“Come on!” I said, leading them toward the stadium.

But there were still challenges ahead.

My phone had 10% battery left, and was quickly draining, and we still didn’t have the tickets downloaded, just a payment confirmation. And we were running short on time. The second act was ending and we still had two parking lots and a pedestrian tunnel to get through.

As we walked I continued trying to download the tickets. I had received the confirmation email from StubHub but couldn’t get it to successfully open. I was calm and felt confident, but the girls were more anxious than ever, worried that we were so close yet may not clear the final hurdles.

“What if they don’t let us in,” Chloe said, wringing her hands with a worried look on her face.

“Don’t panic,” I said calmly. “I have the browser confirmation and confirmation number, I have the confirmation email, we’ll figure out how to get through. Have faith, we’ll make it work out.”

Just as we made it to the concrete covered pedestrian bridge that led to the next parking lot, a woman emerged heading away from the stadium.

“Just a heads up, they won’t let you in with those,” she said, pointing to the girls’ small belt bags, as though she was speaking from experience.

“Oh, wow. Really? They’re tiny,” I said.

“They just turned me away with this,” she said showing us her small purse. “I just want to save y’all some time.”

I thanked her as she hurried past us, eager to get hers back to her vehicle and back in time for the feature performance.

Chloe looked at me with a worried expression. “It’s better that we know about this now,” I told them, all of us juggling to get our purses off. I took my small wallet out and put it in my back pocket and handed my purse to Claire. “There’s nothing in here we really need. Y’all run our purses back to the car, I’ll stay here and keep trying to get the tickets pulled up.”

The helpful woman wasn’t out of earshot. “There’s wifi in the stadium,” she called back to me. “Maybe when you get closer you can connect to the wifi and get them pulled up there.”

“Oh, there is? Thank you again!” I called to her. We exchanged smiles and she briskly walked toward the parking lot.

As the girls ran the 100 yards to the car and back, I finally got the email pulled up which had a link to the Ticketmaster app to actually download the tickets.

‘Just another hurdle to clear,’ I thought to myself with determination and a little bit of excitement, always energized by a problem to work through. I got to work trying to find the password to give to Claire so she could login it when she got back, which was only a matter of minutes. They returned breathless but still speeding past me to get into the pedestrian bridge.

As we speed-walked through the narrow, concrete tunnel, I matter-of-factly explained our next ticket challenge to them.

“What happens if we can’t get them downloaded?” Chloe says to me with a grimace.

“Don’t worry, this is gonna work out,” I said, energized and more optimistic than ever.

We emerged from the tunnel and saw the stadium up close. We all looked back and forth at each other, cautious, wide smiles on our faces. The anticipation and excitement grew the closer we got.

“This is really happening, isn’t it?” Chloe asked, giddy and allowing herself to believe.

“This is really happening,” I responded, then returned to my phone, waiting for the stadium wifi to appear so I could connect.

Just as we made it to a condescending security guard ahead of the ticket gates, the stadium wifi appeared. I connected to it as I overheard him, mansplaining to a woman, in a sickly-sweet fake customer service voice, that even though her bag was clear and the correct size, it was still considered a backpack because of the straps and that she could try to talk to the head security guard if she insisted but he didn’t see them letting her in. They did.

When it was my turn, I hesitated, now connected but my phone at 5% battery life and moving so slowly I still didn’t have the tickets downloaded. I quickly sent everything I could to Claire, providing her with the necessary information and proof of purchased tickets in case my phone died.

“Let’s go ahead and show them everything we have and maybe they can help us figure out where to go from here,” I said to the girls as we walked through the checkpoint.

In the same condescending voice the security guard, shaking his head said, “I don’t know what they’re going to be able to do for you, but you can try.” With no reason to hold us at the checkpoint he reluctantly allowed us through. With a smirk, I rolled my eyes at his self-importance and walked on to the gate.

I smiled as I walked toward the woman scanning tickets, and started to explain our situation to her. 4% battery life left.

I glanced over at Chloe and saw worry in her eyes. I could feel her tension and flashed her a little comforting smile. I wanted to set an example for her of how to stay calm under adversity, and how to use facts, evidence, and a positive attitude to work through problems.

The attendant looked at me, unsure. “Uh, I don’t know,” she said, turning around and looking over at a friendly-looking man who carried himself with an air of confidence and looked to be in charge.

As he started to make his way over, the tickets finally downloaded on the Ticketmaster app.

Moment of truth. I held the first ticket to the scanner.

Rather than a pleasant ding, a harsh buzzer sounded indicating a failure.

My chest tightened. I knew the girls’ hearts must be racing.

Before I had a chance to look over at them to give them a pacifying look, the friendly man was by our side.

The attendant explained to him that the tickets weren’t scanning. I started mentally preparing how to politely plead my case and show all of the evidence of purchased tickets as I smiled and silently turned my phone toward him to review them.

He looked over the tickets and smiled. “That’s because these are on the floor.” he said to us, then looked at the attendant and kindly said, “They have to be scanned with this,” and he pulled out a hand-held scanner and held it up to the ticket’s barcode on my phone.

Relief washed over me when the pleasant ring of success filled the air. ‘Ding!’

Then twice more, ‘ding,’ ‘ding.’

I was in a lavender haze as he produced yellow wrist bands indicating floor access, and put them on each of us.

“Do you know where you’re going?” he asked us.

“No,” I told him.

“You’ll go left and take this ramp down to the lower level. Be sure to grab bracelets. Enjoy the show.”

I heard ‘Oh my God’ repeated over and over, still in a haze and unsure whose voice it was — maybe all of ours. We eagerly picked up white, adjustable, light-up bracelets with TaylorSwift.com printed on the bands from the cardboard boxes nearby and descended down the curved ramp.

“You’re my hero for this!”

Somehow, I was able to contain my welled tears of pride and happiness until we made it to our seats.