Assignments piling up. Deadlines everywhere. The constant feeling that there was something else I should be doing.
I’m sure we’ve all had one of those weeks when life gets too stressful, whether it’s school, work or whatever else life decides to throw at you.
For me, as a 15-year-old, it was school. I thought this concert would only stress me out more since I wasn’t at home doing homework.
Then Sierra Ferrell, the second opener, walked onto the stage and said, “In a world full of hate, we need to love each other.”
It felt like she was looking straight at me.
In that moment, I remembered that love isn’t only something we give to other people. It’s something we owe ourselves, too.
Instead of beating myself up about my stressful week, I could choose love, let myself breathe and enjoy the night.
Always choose love.
Sierra Ferrell and her band were INSANE!
Normally, I think of the band as the background to a singer’s performance, but this band felt just as much a part of the show as Sierra.
Every musician added something special, and their chemistry made the entire set feel alive.
My favorite song of her set was “Years,” her cover of the John Anderson country classic.
The song reflects on how quickly time passes and how looking back on both the good and bad moments shapes who we become.
There’s something comforting about realizing that even the hardest moments eventually become memories.
It reminded me that the stress of this week would fade, too. One day, the assignments that felt so overwhelming would just be another memory.
Ferrell’s positivity was so contagious. It was hard not to feel positive yourself when she seemed so genuinely happy to be doing what she loved.
Her story made that message even more powerful.
Raised by a single mother in low-income housing, Ferrell experienced significant hardships as she got older, including periods of homelessness and addiction.
Her journey reminds me that your past doesn’t define you.
Even if that past was just yesterday, when your boss got upset with you or you received a bad grade on a test, one difficult moment doesn’t have to determine what comes next.
And just when I started overthinking about school again, BAM!!
Ferrell started banging on a huge bass drum decorated with flowers and the words “Heavy Petal Music.”
It was such a fun, unexpected way to close her set. It might honestly be one of my favorite set closers ever.
Then the words “For one night only… Turn it up… Are you ready…” started projecting onto the screens.
Everyone was already loosened up from the opener, so now the real party was about to start.
From the moment Mumford & Sons took the stage, the energy was unreal.
Everyone seemed completely in sync with the music.
Then came “Little Lion Man,” a song that has always stood out to me because of its raw honesty.
It’s about regret, mistakes and facing the parts of yourself you might not be proud of.
There’s something powerful about singing those feelings out loud instead of pretending they don’t exist.
After spending the week beating myself up over everything I hadn’t finished, hearing thousands of people sing along to a song about imperfection made me feel a little less alone.
The band moved through songs like “Awake My Soul,” “Lover of the Light” and “Hopeless Wanderer,” building an atmosphere that made it almost impossible to stay still.
The music wasn’t just something to listen to. It was something to feel.
And then came a surprise I somehow managed to avoid seeing on social media: the band changed stages.
Despite all the concert clips and spoilers that usually make their way onto my feed, I had no idea what was coming.
When the band headed to the smaller B-stage, I was genuinely surprised.
For the first two songs there, we had to be really quiet. It was a completely different atmosphere from the loud, energetic main stage.
Instead of thousands of people shouting lyrics over the music, we got to sit with the songs and appreciate the musicianship.
It felt intimate, almost as if we had been invited into a private performance.
The B-stage set included “Timshel” and “Clover,” with guest musicians Rob Moose and Matt Menefee joining the band.
Their contributions added another layer to the performance, making these songs feel especially warm and intricate.
Then came “White Blank Page.”
The song explores heartbreak, longing and the pain of unanswered questions that remain when a relationship falls apart.
Hearing it in that smaller setting gave it a different kind of intensity.
It was a reminder that live music doesn’t always have to be loud to be powerful.
Sometimes, the quiet moments are the ones that stay with you.
One of the most special moments of the night came when Sierra Ferrell returned to the stage to perform “Here” with Mumford & Sons.
After her opening set had already left me thinking about love, resilience and the way our past doesn’t have to define us, seeing her return felt like a full-circle moment.
“Here” is about the desire to be present, to take responsibility for your past, and to find peace where you are now.
I was at a concert I’d been looking forward to, listening to music I loved, surrounded by thousands of people sharing the same moment.
And for once, that was enough.
Having Ferrell join the band made the performance even more meaningful.
It connected the beginning of the night to the end, reminding me that sometimes the right people, songs and messages find their way to us exactly when we need them.
Then Marcus Mumford did something I’ll never forget.
During “Ditmas,” Marcus Mumford ran through the crowd while singing, making his way all the way toward the nosebleed seats.
He wasn’t just waving from a distance or thanking the audience from the stage. He was physically running toward the people who had come to see him.
And let me tell you, he was FAST.
As someone who runs track and cross country, I feel qualified to say that.
Watching him sprint through an arena while continuing to sing was impressive enough on its own.
Social media has even been calling it the “Mumford Mile,” which feels pretty fitting.
But what I loved most wasn’t the speed. It was what the gesture represented.
He made an effort to reach fans who were sitting far from the stage even in the nosebleeds, showing that they mattered just as much as the people standing right in front of him.
It was a small but meaningful reminder that connection requires effort.
Sometimes, you have to run toward people instead of expecting them to come to you.
Mumford also spoke about how the Kia Forum was one of his favorite venues, and you could feel how much he enjoyed performing there.
My favorite song of the night was “I Will Wait.”
There’s something about this song that makes it almost impossible not to sing along.
The banjo kicks in, the drums build, and suddenly the entire room is exploding with energy.
When thousands of people sang “I will wait, I will wait for you” together, it felt like the whole arena was sharing one enormous promise: that the hard parts don’t last forever, and that the people and things we love are worth holding onto.
The night ended with “Conversation with My Son (Gangsters & Angels),” and it felt like the perfect way to close the experience.
The song’s personal, reflective nature brings to mind a conversation between generations about navigating a complicated world, recognizing the good and bad around us, and deciding what kind of person we want to become.
After everything that had happened that night, the message felt especially fitting.
Sierra Ferrell had started the evening by reminding us to love each other.
Throughout the concert, the music had reminded me to accept my mistakes, appreciate the present, and recognize the connections we share with people around us.
Now, as the night came to an end, I was left thinking about the kind of person I wanted to be when I walked back into the world outside the Kia Forum.
In a world full of hate, we still get to choose how we treat people.
We can choose kindness over cruelty, understanding over judgment, and love over hate.
We can also choose to give ourselves that same kindness, especially when life gets overwhelming.
