From Jersey With Love: The Night I Said Goodbye to The Weeknd at MetLife

I’m still processing what just happened last night. Like… how do you even describe the feeling of watching your fave artist literally close the door on an era?
Let me back up.

I’m a Jersey girl, born and raised. MetLife is practically in my backyard, so when I found out The Weeknd was bringing his final tour as “The Weeknd” here? Yeah, you better believe I was in the crowd screaming every word.

Let’s just say the drama was dramatizing in the best way. Red-robed dancers, a fire-lit skyline set, and this MASSIVE futuristic statue of a woman rotating above the stage. My jaw was on the floor and not just because of the visuals.
This wasn’t just a concert. It felt like the final scene of a movie I didn’t want to end.

Fun fact for the numbers girlies:
Over 163,000 people saw Abel at MetLife across three nights. That’s officially made him the top-grossing male Black artist in the stadium’s history. So yeah, Jersey showed up and showed out.
Night 2 (my night 🫶) was next level. The crowd was so loud, I swear the stadium shook during "Blinding Lights." I might still be deaf from that moment, but worth it.

He did everything. From “Can’t Feel My Face” to “Less Than Zero”, and when Playboi Carti walked out for “Popular”? I gasped. Like out loud. Everyone was jumping like it was 2016 again. There was no chill, and we were loving it.

The transitions, the lighting, the wristbands lighting up the stadium, every little detail screamed: this is the end of something big.

Long Live Abel Tesfaye.

If you haven’t heard, Abel’s retiring to The Weeknd's name. After this tour, he’s performing and releasing music under his real name. And honestly? I get it. He’s grown. He’s said that The Weeknd was a character, a version of himself that helped him process a lot of pain.
Now he’s ready to move forward — as Abel — with his new album Hurry Up Tomorrow, which dives deep into the personal stuff: voice loss, anxiety, even healing.

Still, standing there in that crowd, singing my heart out with 80,000 strangers — it hit me.
That was the last time we’d ever see The Weeknd live.

Cue the full-body goosebumps.