How EXO's 'EXhOrizon' concert healed my inner teenager

I've always been an EXO fan.

I started listening to them when I was 13 because of my friends but what began as simple peer influence eventually became the soundtrack of my teenage years.

Every comeback felt like an event, every new album was something to look forward to, and every song became tied to a memory. Looking back, I can honestly say I grew up with EXO.

Back then, they would often include the Philippines in their concert tours. Every announcement excited me, but they always ended the same way: Me watching from afar. I had no money of my own, and my parents were understandably strict about letting me attend concerts.

I remember crying in my room after seeing photos and videos online, wondering if I would ever get the chance to see the group that meant so much to me.

I made a promise to myself: One day, when I was old enough and capable, I would finally watch EXO live.

More than a decade later, EXO announced they were bringing their "EXhOrizon" concert to Manila.

I couldn't believe it. My heart raced as I searched for ticket prices and started planning everything. The concert was set for my birth month, July, which somehow made it feel even more special, almost like a gift I had been waiting years to receive.

Then the ticket-selling day came.

I did everything I could, but like many fans, I failed to secure a ticket. It felt like my 13-year-old self was crying all over again. After waiting for so many years, I thought I had missed my chance yet again.

But life had other plans. An opportunity to cover the concert came my way. Of course, I didn't let it slip.

The day of the concert finally arrived.

It had been a stressful week, but for a few hours, none of that mattered. I put on the best outfit I had, looked at myself in the mirror, and smiled. I was no longer the heartbroken teenager watching fancams through a screen anymore. I was finally on my way to the SM Mall of Asia Arena to see the artists who had been part of my life for more than a decade.

As the lights dimmed and EXO stepped onto the stage, it all hit me: The dream I had carried since I was 13—the promise I made to myself through tears—is finally coming true.

The opening notes of "MAMA" echoed through the arena, instantly transporting me back to my teenage years when I would spend hours memorizing every lyric, every choreography, and every detail of their discography.

For a moment, I was 13 again, singing alone in my bedroom, dreaming that one day I would see them in person.

And as the band played iconic song after another—"Wolf," "Monster," "Overdose” and “Growl,” I found myself doing what I had imagined countless times before: singing at the top of my lungs, dancing without worry, and joining thousands of EXO-Ls in every fan chant. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

If there’s one thing about the concert, it wasn't just about the performances. It was also about the connection EXO shares with Filipino fans.

During one of their ment segments, Chanyeol surprised everyone by singing a few lines from Lola Amour's "Raining in Manila," earning deafening cheers from the crowd.

Moments later, the members sang Yeng Constantino's "Hawak Kamay"— a touching callback to the song they performed during the Dream K-Pop Fantasy Concert (DKFC) in Manila back in 2013.

Somehow, it felt like they, too, remembered the journey we had shared over the years.

Everything about the night felt so special, but nothing prepared me for "Don't Go."

It's my favorite EXO song and hearing it live was something I had only imagined. As the melody filled the arena, I couldn't help but think of all the moments their music had quietly carried me through—the nights I cried, the days I felt lost, and the comfort I found simply by pressing play.

Their songs had been there through different chapters of my life, and suddenly all those memories came rushing back.

During a short break, "Peter Pan" played through the speakers. Thousands of EXO-Ls sang every word in unison, their voices filling the arena before the members even returned to the stage.

I found myself singing through tears, when I realized I wasn't just a fan singing along to a song anymore, I belonged to an entire generation remembering who they used to be.

By the time EXO returned for their final performances, I could already feel the night slipping away. I didn't want it to end, but instead of sadness, I felt something I hadn't expected: peace.

The teenage version of me who once watched concerts through blurry phone screens had finally gotten the ending she always wished for.

Before saying goodbye, Suho gave fans one last promise.

"As long as you love EXO, we'll be back for sure."

Sehun echoed the sentiment, saying, “We’ll try to be back in the Philippines as early as possible just to see you again. I can feel that it won't be too long.”

As the lights came on and people slowly made their way out of the arena, I realized I wasn't leaving with post-concert sadness. I was leaving with gratitude.

Some dreams take years to come true. Mine took more than a decade.

And if my 13-year-old self could see me that night—dancing to every beat, cheering with my heart’s content, and singing every song alongside EXO—I think she'd smile, knowing we finally kept the promise we made. — LA, GMA News