I heard the Spice Girls for the first time in fifth grade, and my ten-year-old brain was blown. Poof! It was not long before I was knee deep in the Spice Girls fandom. If it was in any way affiliated with them it was a must-have. So, I chewed a lot of bubble gum trying to collect all of their stickers. I bought the chocolate bars, the candy, a Sporty Spice doll, ball cap, the movie, their albums, and of course any magazine I could get my hands on that where the Spice Girls graced the cover. I was a fan. My friends were fans. Naturally, my room reflected this fandom with posters of the girl band plastered to its walls.
Around that same time I discovered a boy band that I threw myself headlong into adoring as well. The Backstreet Boys were the center of many a conversation between my best friend, Becky, and I throughout middle-school. Which guy was the cutest? We disagreed on this very important matter. How could we go about meeting them? What on earth would we do if we did? I believe our tween brains thought that coffee would be in order, should our paths cross, because that is what adults drank. I rang in the millennium with two of my dearest friends with jubilation, then we promptly poised ourselves on Becky’s living room couch so we could watch the premier of the music video for “Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely.”
The Backstreet Boys are woven into my younger years with much fondness. I have continued to appreciate their more recent musical endeavors, perhaps with less vigor than my thirteen-year-old self, but appreciation nonetheless. I mean, I went as far as seeing if their tour takes them anywhere near my neck of the woods because nostalgia was hitting me hard and I thought it would be fun to recapture some of that youthful fanfare. I figured as a married mother of two I was past the posters on the wall, screaming fangirl stage of life. Then I discovered BTS.
One night last year, Pandora started playing a song I had never heard before, in a language I couldn’t understand. It was a catchy, though, I liked it. I clicked the “thumbs up” and didn’t think too much of whether there were more songs by BTS or not. I started seeing a lot of references to them on Twitter, though, and scrolling through the comments I realized that there were some hardcore fans out there. They spoke fondly of the guys, naming them, singling one out of as their bias and I thought, “Hm…I can’t tell them apart.” I was embarrassed to admit this, so I took it upon myself to learn the differences. It wasn’t long before I, too, could see that they were indeed seven individuals with unique personalities, talents, hopes, and yes, faces.
In my journey to learn more about the members of BTS, I discovered they had a whole lot more music out than “Fake Love.” I caught the excitement, and delved deep into the rabbit hole of information there is on these young Korean men. Ah, but there is the key word there. No, no, not Korean. Young. They are all in their twenties.
Big deal, right?
I came across a post on Instagram asking fans how old they were. Most were teenagers, or early twenties, and the first girl to say she was thirty had a troll lambaste her for being immature and not having her priorities in order. I thought, “Yeesh, I have thirty-three creeping up on me…Am I too old to like BTS? Am I really already over-the-hill to these people?”
I scooped up one of their albums, Love: Answer, on a whim at Target. I slipped the plastic wrap off, slid the contents out of the sleeve and felt a little embarrassed to now be in possession of poster, photo card, stickers and a booklet with a photo spread. What do I do with them? The other part of me was excited to now be in possession of said things because I am a fan and when I am a fan of something or someone I want to display that. (My display cases filling with anime figures and Funko Pops attest to this.)
~I need to take an updated photo. They are nearly full now!~
Being a boy band fan in my thirties has been a truly odd experience, and honestly dragged along a whole lot of baggage that has been hanging around with me for years (seriously, my self-worth comes up a lot in prior posts). It has been exhilarating discovering so many new songs to add to Melissa’s soundtrack, but it has also been shamefully depressing. These guys are out there encouraging everyone to love themselves and be true to who they are, and here I am conflicted as ever, wondering how I fit into this puzzle; not just the puzzle of being a thirty-two-year-old BTS fan, but life in general.
It was easy gushing over the Backstreet Boys. I was a giddy tween with my whole life ahead of me. This time around I am a wife and a mother of two, already feeling woefully decrepit under the weight of all of my chronic pain, hating the signs of aging cropping up on my face, trying to figure out where my faith took a deadly blow, and terribly lonely. I cannot seem to find peers who like the same things I do. Look how many people wanted to see Hamilton! It was a BIG deal. When my husband got me tickets to see Hamilton for my birthday, no one in my close circle had a clue what we were going to see. But I digress… (Oh, I will say Hamilton live was pretty flippin’ awesome, though!)
~San Francisco bound to see Hamilton for my birthday~
My almost nine-year-old is a huge BTS fan as well. Her room is starting to look a lot like mine used to. She is more than happy that I introduced her to the K-Pop group, and took a shine to Suga right away. Sharing it with her is special in its own way, but not the same at all as sharing an interest with a peer. Which brings me back to how out-of-place I feel being a thirty-two-year-old BTS fan, and in the world at large.
~Pretty proud of her first BTS album~
I am thrilled for these young men and their success. I do not know them personally, nor will I ever, but they seem to come a from a place of genuineness. However, the global scale of it all is overwhelming and I selfishly get lost in it all, wondering just how insignificant I am as one of millions of people who are cheering on RM, Suga, J-hope, V, Jin, Jimin and Jungkook. They are rubbing shoulders in circles I cannot even imagine being a part of, and it reminds me that I really want to do something meaningful. I want to make a positive impact, and truthfully, yes, be seen. Part of me really doesn’t want that because with recognition and accolades comes the flip side with criticism and jeers. However, when thirty-year-olds are the “old” ones, it makes you think a little too hard about how little time you have left to accomplish something amazing. The odds are fantastically small that you will ever reach any sort of wide scale celebrity, especially the likes of BTS (which is why they are rightfully crushing so many records).
I look at my own life, and I wonder why it isn’t enough. I got all the things that bright-eyed BSB-loving teenager longed for: a husband, children, my own house, and I get to teach. I desperately wanted those things. Then I sat down at a park, not long after my surgery, clad in leggings because they were comfortable over my incision. I scanned the park and saw all the other moms in leggings and tees, toting babies around and sipping coffee. My brother-in-law playfully quipped that I should get a “Leggings are Pants” shirt and I decided then and there I needed a new wardrobe. My six-year-old is taking soccer, I travel around in a mini-van…I am a soccer mom. I am a soccer mom in a mini van! All of those things are not really associated with super attractive, and certainly not youthful. I don’t mean to knock my fellow soccer moms, or legging lovers either, because it is certainly a personal conflict more than anything. I see myself in the most negative light possible, no matter what stage of life I am in, but this is the first time my age has mattered.
~Found some denim and a Fairy Tail shirt~
I have never dreaded a birthday. It has always been one of the highlights of my year to celebrate. I’m dreading thirty-three. I feel old. I didn’t expect that to happen so soon. Yet while my body is doing its best to make me feel like I have one foot in the grave, and my self-esteem is cackling at in me in the mirror, as a person I still feel like Melissa. It’s funny how easily I still fall hardcore into fandoms, like the MCU. I have probably squealed more than once in anticipation of the Avengers movie coming out on Friday. I still love collecting plushies, and stuffed animals. I love figures, anime is awesome, bubbles are the best, butterflies make my heart flutter, I jump on the swings whenever I have a chance, I’m still catching Pokemon, and yeah, I really like BTS. While liking BTS has been the catalyst (of no fault of their own) to a lot of self-searching, and heart cries to God, being a fan has also opened the door for a lot of happiness. Confession: I actually got a little light-headed when my husband confirmed he had snagged tickets to one of their concerts. *cue flushed cheeks* Singing along to their songs with my kids, watching my daughter perform her version of the dance from “Fire” in the middle of the cul-de-sac, and having someone to go crazy over B21 stuff in Hot Topic with is fun (my haul pictured below).
~Not pictured: my daughter’s Shooky keychain~
Do I have a snappy conclusion to this long-winded heart-to-heart with the void that will consume this post? I suppose that is a fair question. I suppose it is that age doesn’t define what you can or cannot be a fan of. I am sure there are some exceptions, but in general we should be able to be fans of whatever band, television show, song, etc. that we want. I think we still feel young at heart no matter how old we get. I am sure that the sixty-year-old woman sitting behind me in church still feels like they are still themselves, just in an older body. I am having trouble grappling with the aging side when it comes to my body, but when it comes to my heart I am still youthful in a lot of respects. I am sure there are other thirty-something BTS fans out there. Some of them may even have families like I do. I don’t know where all the people who share my interests are hiding but they can come out at any time… This leads to my last piece of advice.
If you have found a close-knit group of people who lift you up and share your interests, hold onto them. The part of me that is feeling so left out looking at what the members of BTS have in one another and their fans would be glad to have a group of people to work toward a common goal with, to cheer on and be cheered on by, to accomplish great things and just have fun together; people who are invested in me and care about my comings and goings. Maybe those people are there and I am just so blinded by depression that I cannot see them, or maybe God has been waiting to bring them into my life. Whatever the answer, I am certain it is special to have a group of friends as an adult and if you are blessed to have such a group, like I said, don’t let them go.
While I am sorting out my existential, too-early-to-be-a-mid-life crisis I am going to continue to be a fan of the things that bring me joy. If that means being a thirty-two-year-old BTS fan, then I guess…so be it!
~My daughter and me~
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