I've been to 13 music festivals and just attended Coachella for the first time. Here's why it wasn't worth the hype.

• I am a music reporter and festival enthusiast who attended Coachella for the first time in 2022.
• Overall, I didn't think it was worth flying across the country and paying thousands of dollars.

This weekend, I went to the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival for the first time, an event I've been yearning to attend since I was 15 years old.

This is the reputation that Coachella has cultivated over decades of celebrity endorsements, historic headline performances, and its very own genre of fashion — a reputation of excellence, yes, but more precisely, of inspiring FOMO. Trekking to the desert in Indio, California is framed as something to be envied without question.

But after experiencing it for myself, I think its iconic status is overblown.

I began my love affair with music festivals while attending high school in Connecticut, starting with New Jersey's emo-era staples Warped Tour and Bamboozle.

Now, as a music reporter based in Brooklyn, I've been to a variety of major festivals over the years, from New York City's Governors Ball to Chicago's Lollapalooza and Dover, Delaware's Firefly. I'm well-accustomed to the demands of these pursuits: long lines, expensive food, sticky weather, sore feet.

Even so, after sharing a collection of photos I took throughout this weekend, revealing some of Coachella's downsides that you don't often see online, I've received dozens of messages calling me bitter or delusional (or worse).

I understand the impulse because, if you admit that an event wasn't all rainbows and butterflies, it's much harder to justify the money and time spent excitedly anticipating it.

As one fashion critic put it, "Coachella is the perfect example of how capitalism sells us the promise of unforgettable experiences, community, and music, all under the guise of participating in capitalism. It is the vehicle, and the destination is 'fun.'"

Of course, that's not to say Coachella isn't fun, or anything less than an expertly crafted event. I always felt safe, which is most important, and very lucky to be there.

But Coachella is simply not the extraordinary experience that its outsize legacy and social-media presence would have you believe.

While most of my gripes could be ascribed to other festivals, the point is that Coachella claims to be incomparable —a divine pillar in a sea of copycats. In reality, it is a music festival much like any other, equal parts fun and fatigue.

Unfortunately, even my moments of bliss — seeing some of my favorite artists perform, like Billie Eilish and Phoebe Bridgers — were slightly marred by circumstance. As my editor and fellow attendee Courteney Larocca wrote, the surrounding audience can make or break your experience at a concert, and the majority of Coachella's crowds did not pass the vibe check.

In terms of priorities, enjoying the music was clearly secondary for many of the people we encountered. The stylish concept of "being at Coachella" loomed much larger.

Coachella gleams with the promise of bragging rights and Instagram photos dotted with palm trees. People travel from all over the world to attend.

I flew across the country and spent literally thousands of dollars on the trip — an expense that was subsidized by my company, and yet, one I still could not justify again when there are closer festivals I've enjoyed just as much (if not more), especially when lineups tend to have similarities.

More than any other, Coachella seems designed to benefit VIP patrons, whether they're influencers or fans with money to burn.

There are restricted areas everywhere with luxurious lounges and fountains. Celebrities pose in private but rarely venture into the wild (the festival provides golf carts to carry them between backstage areas). Sponsored pool parties and after-hours ragers take place all weekend, but they're closed to the general public.

For the typical music lover on the ground with a general-admission wristband — hiding from the sun, trying to fuel your body with a $13 hot dog — it can often feel like you're suspended in amber, vaguely wondering if it was all worth it.

Follow along with Insider's Coachella coverage here.