I KNEW that I would be very emotional when I eventually got to experience live music again after 20 months.
My last pre-pandemic gig was an International Women's Day concert in The Duncairn, which I hosted. It was a night of empowerment, honesty and sisterhood.
Pauline Scanlon gave one of the best performances I have ever seen from her. It was also one of my first 'post baby' gigs back behind the microphone.
Despite all the amazing energy that night, there was a strangeness in the air. We all know what came next.
Fast forward to October 2021, and I found myself trying to remember how to get dressed up because people were going to see me in the flesh. I was heading out to host a gig again, and I had two in one week.
I walked in to the Harty Room at Queen's, and honestly didn't know how to interact with people. I saw people I hadn't seen in well over two years. When the initial strangeness subsided, I allowed myself to experience real conversation again, even if it was only chit-chat and at a distance.
Then the music started, the room was filled with expression, energy, connection. It was otherworldly.
The organisers of all concerts I have been to have gone to great lengths to provide a safe, comfortable environment for both patrons and performers.
When it comes to live music, there are particular performers who hit the peak of their power when they are on stage, connecting with the audience in front of them.
Freddie Mercury had that charisma and talent in spades, as does Bono - like him or loathe him.
Damien Dempsey is also in this charisma club. Many years ago, I found myself at a 'Damo' gig in The Empire, and what an experience that was.
The Empire in Belfast is one of those music venues which never fails to serve up a memorable experience. There is a particular energy in that space which provides a special communal live gig experience, but experiencing Damo in that space was something else.
I have found what I felt, saw and heard difficult to describe, until recently. I watched a documentary, Love Yourself Today, which follows Damien and some of his fans and explores how and why fans connect with Damien and his music, and how his music has helped them heal their lives.
And there it was: the magic of a Damo gig perfectly captured in pictures and sound. Director Ross Killeen has brought Damo's annual Christmas gigs in Vicar Street to a wider audience.
The music is only part of this film. The audience also gains an insight into the mental health story of three fans - Nadia, Packy and Jonathan - and of Damien himself.
Damien Dempsey has been a mental health champion for many years. I spoke to him about this on my radio show recently and he said that music has been healing him for years, and that by speaking publicly about loving yourself, showing love and gratitude to others, he might be helping others: "If it's alright for me to be open with my emotions, it's alright for them."
A few years ago, I happened upon an episode of the Tommy Tiernan Show where Tommy and Damien spoke about 'the black dog' and what they do when it comes calling. The black dog they were talking about refers to depression.
Damo had arrived on set with some sort of scythe that had been used in the 1798 rebellion, much to the audience's amusement, but within minutes of sitting down, he and Tommy were talking openly about depression and how they manage their mental health.
It was one of the most engaging, honest interviews I have ever seen on television, and it has stayed with me, years later.
Damien mentioned how his mother had helped him to embrace yoga and meditation, and how he finds peace in sea swimming. He has been jumping in the sea for years - well before it was trendy to do so.
His music resonates with audiences for many reasons. And there was such comfort in this documentary.
This can be a particularly difficult time of year for many, this film was full of love and hope - 90 minutes well spent.
