Swifties pose with their Taylor merch outside Murrayfield Stadium, Edinburgh (6 June) (Getty)

Last night, I couldn’t sleep.

It felt like all my Christmases had come at once. Truthfully, I haven’t felt this nervous, excited or nauseous since my wedding day.

The cause of my stomach-churning anxiety? I’m seeing Taylor Swift on the UK leg of The Eras Tour. Yes, I’m 31 years old and no, I’m not embarrassed in the slightest.

(AFP via Getty Images)

Growing up, I teased my younger brother for being a fan; rolled my eyes when I got a Swift-themed card for my 22nd birthday. I thought she was a bubblegum-hued pop princess for the kids.

How wrong I was.

It was only when her phone call with Kanye West was leaked back in 2016 – asking permission to call her a “bitch” and suggest that they “might still have sex” in his song, “Famous” – that I started to take notice.

She denied giving him consent, and West’s then-wife, Kim Kardashian, shared an edited snippet of the call to the world – claiming that she was a liar, and called the day “National Snake Day”.

The fallout was phenomenal. Grown men and women, celebrities and even people in positions of power jumped on the bandwagon to attack this 27-year-old musician – driving her to her darkest place yet.

Of course, the fallout brought us Swift’s sixth album, Reputation – the first album I listened to. I’d not heard anything like it. Flooding her Instagram with snakes was a groundbreaking, inspiring comeback. It spoke of revenge in the slickest, most powerful way that no musician ever had.

The same year, Swift countersued DJ David Mueller for battery and sexual assault, after he sued her for defamation following her claims she had been groped by him. She won, and was awarded a symbolic $1 in damages. She said she fought for everyone “who feels silenced by a sexual assault”. Finally, I got it. I respected her, both as a singer and a woman.

Since then, I’ve pre-ordered her re-recorded albums, and have (reluctantly) boycotted the ones that haven’t been. I’ve studied every single one of her music videos for easter eggs, and I even screamed and sobbed along to “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” after my ex cheated on me.

Even now, in my thirties, I can safely say that I still relate to everything Swift has written about. Toxic female friendships, breakups, depression, love, heartache, bad men – the list goes on. I’ve had whole, body-lurching sobs over “All Too Well” (10-minute version) – it just feels so real.

Yet, for some reason I should be embarrassed about it. Embarrassed about being over 30 and listening to Taylor Swift. I honestly believe I’m as excited to see my favourite singer in Edinburgh as I was to get married – and I’m not ashamed.

I screamed, cried and nearly threw up when my friend secured us tickets last year. I’ve had my outfit planned for months – I’m going Lover era – and have saved up for merch. I’ve even meticulously planned when to pee between set changes, thanks to detailed reels from fellow Swifties.

Fans queue outside Murrayfield Stadium in Edinburgh ahead of tonight’s gig (Getty)

I’ve actually kicked my husband out for the weekend, having pre-ordered Swift-inspired cookies for a pre-gig party. It’s cool, he understands. Yet, no one would judge him for being this excited to see his favourite bands – the likes of Metallica, Guns N’ Roses, or Iron Maiden. So, why the change in attitude when it’s Swift?

Whenever I talk about being a Swiftie, people always smirk or snigger. “Don’t you think you’re a little old for that?” is the inevitable response. Sadly, I have actually held back admitting my love for her for fear of judgement.

My friends have also told me that, when buying Swift vinyl, they’ve been made to feel embarrassed and pretend it’s for their younger sister to avoid feeling ashamed.

I’m sick of seeing this trope online, and hearing it among friends and peers, that being a Swiftie is something to be a embarrassed about.

Swift herself is 34, three years older than me, and I feel like I’ve grown up with her, through the heartache and bad boyfriends.

As an adult, there’s not many key life moments anymore that get to make the bucket list, and this certainly is one of them. I won’t be made to feel embarrassed for admitting that something gives me joy.

So yes, my name is Emmie, I’m 31 years old and I know all too well that I’m a Swiftie.