The Early Exit - Why do I always want to leave the function, even when I’m having a good time?
'I just love the music, but don’t we all?
I know a night out or a festival is appealing in different ways for different people: some view it as a social event, some to forget the stresses that are going on in the real world for one night or weekend. For me, I (predominantly) love going out to dance and listen to music, I always have. So why is it that I spend half of the time just, kind of, wanting to go home? I have long had a tendency to leave a function early, and if someone else in the group suggests leaving, eight times out of ten, I will follow.
UK: 2019
At the ripe age of 18, in a big city, with new people, I felt the peer pressure of having to go out, or having to stay out until at least 4am. Don’t get me wrong, a huge part of me wanted to do it, this was an entire new world that was fun and exciting. However, some of the time, as an almost-20-year-old with (concerningly) cheap alcohol being thrown at me in every direction, I found myself drinking and drinking in order to enjoy myself. To put it bluntly, I would often only have fun if I was fucked. I know I’m not alone in that feeling.
And then, a new club opened in my final year, and I loved it there; I would go almost every night if I could. Because when I was there, I never felt the need to get drunk to have a good time, sometimes even going sober, buying no drinks and just boogieing with my friends all night.
Part of me is probably still chasing that feeling.
Melb: 2026
As a now-25-year-old, I’ve managed to find the balance between going to events for the sake of it or succumbing to peer pressure to instead being selective and intentional about where I exert my money and energy. I have a much stronger grasp on the music and venues I like and the groups of people I go out with, so I don’t often find myself in spaces where I think fuck, why am I here?
I did, however, feel this with a recent festival. We got tickets because it was new year’s day and our options were limited. And whistl I was having a lot of fun for the first half of it, the vibe seemed to switch up suddenly and drastically, as did the crowd, and two thoughts entered my head, first: I need about six more drinks right now to be having a good time and second: isn’t this exactly how I would feel when I was 19?
Unlike five years ago (out of fear of being called boring), I just went home, knowing it was not an event I should probably have been at anyway. Sitting at our kitchen table eating toast afterwards, I said to my housemates, "I feel really anxious right now and I don’t know why” and they responded with: “honestly, same.”
Going from starting an event with such high energy to ending it in a weird state of mind was not what I was anticipating would happen. Yet, I sat, acutely aware of the guilt of not enjoying something I was supposed to. Particularly as it was the 1st of January, this feeling spiralled into an anxious presumption that this would somehow set the tone for the whole year.
“This is fun. Why am I not having fun?”
Whilst that event was the catalyst for writing this piece, it relates to feelings I’ve had for almost a decade: I can understand my want to go home if I’m having a bad time, but even if I’m having a good time, part of me still, honestly, wants to go home.
This appears completely contradictory considering my nature to crave the freeing euphoria that comes with being in a large crowd with music, whether that’s small scale in a club or a gig or in a huge warehouse or festival. I’ve tricked myself into thinking that maybe it's just because I’m introverted or even a homebody (two things which couldn’t be further from the truth), but I think actually, I’m craving something more.
DJing as a role reversal
It is no coincidence to me then, that these feelings sit hand-in-hand with wanting to break into the music scene, particularly DJing. The idea of DJing occupies a grey area in the middle: of not leaving but also not really staying. Whilst the number of sets I’ve done can fit on one hand, the main takeaway I’ve each time (aside from nerves) has been the undeniable feeling of fuck, is this what I’ve been chasing all along?
I want high energy, crowds of people, no phones, no outside world, dancing, laughing, singing with your favourite people, but being on the other side of it instead, controlling the narrative almost. I want to shape a night rather than being subject to it. But why is that?
I’m a control freak after all
I have a slight problem with being productive (all the damn time honestly) even if I’m relaxing or socialising. So one plausible suggestion is that it meets both of my needs here: getting full creative reign over the music and energy in the room whilst simultaneously functioning as a form of work. Now, I’m certainly far off from this being a tangible career for me, but nonetheless, it’s still a form of creative productivity, an activity that feels purposeful.
Connection vs. disconnection
So, I like to control how I experience music, what else?
Music can be both a very private and very public experience. DJing, to me, is a way of intertwining the two: from taking something personal, curating it, and turning it into a performance almost, into something inherently public and social. This, then, creates the optimal balance. Being at the forefront, as the ‘maker’, allows for a new level of emotional connection with an audience or group, as opposed to just being a participant. It’s twofold.
Looking inward, this dichotomy between the individual and the collective seems to be what is at play here. And this connection is in direct opposition to the emotional disconnect I felt in my younger years.
Ultimately, there are several driving forces behind my desire to DJ, but this reason has possibly the most interesting parallels to draw from. So do I really just want to go home, or am I craving a connection that I haven’t been getting? It seems to be the latter. Sitting, ironically, both on the periphery and at the core, is exactly where I want to be.