Coming back home

If you were to ask me if I miss my childhood, I’d say I’m fine with being an adult. But if you were to ask me on a deeper level, I’d say that I miss being that carefree girl, singing along to my favorite K-pop song in front of the TV.

As I sit on the bus while it takes me back to the monotony of my everyday life, a surge of emotions suddenly wash over my body. I try my best to hold it together since I don’t want to break down in front of strangers. But it’s difficult, especially with the lump in my throat that’s been choking me since Saturday night.

I can still remember it. It was just another school morning, with the MYX Daily Top Ten playing in the background as I got ready for class. A familiar voice caught my attention during the intro of a song, and when I glanced at the screen, there was Sandara, performing alongside a group of boys and girls. They were singing in a language I didn’t understand.

The song’s beat was catchy and unforgettable, and soon, I was chanting along to it. A few months later, the songs “Fire” and “I Don’t Care” were released and I couldn’t resist trying to sing along every time I heard them.

Before I knew it, I was dedicating my elementary years to going to computer shops with the little money I saved to watch 2NE1 videos or to print out the lyrics of their songs. I’d go to a neighbor’s house to watch MYX, where we’d copy the dance moves. I’d even watch the Tagalog-dubbed version of their show.

By high school, I became more involved in supporting the girls. I created stan accounts and joined online fan clubs to connect with other fans. I engaged in silly fan wars, both online and in person, to defend my girls’ honor. Each morning, I’d scroll through their photos on my phone, and every night, I’d scour the internet for updates on their activities. I bought posters and celebrated their birthdays. People would tease me and my friends, saying our idols didn’t even know we existed. But I didn’t care. I was genuinely happy.

When they first had their concert in the Philippines, I was devastated. I didn’t have the money, and I was too young to go alone. I cried so hard that day that my mom told me to study hard so I could go to the next one. I took that to heart.

Their performance at MAMA 2015 is a memory I’ll never forget, partly because it sparked the last big fight I had with my brother. He was playing in a DOTA 2 mini-tournament, while I was watching CL perform live.

When the rest of the girls started appearing one by one, I couldn’t contain my excitement and cranked up the settings to HD, hogging all the bandwidth. What followed wasn’t pretty because I took several punches that night. Honestly, I didn’t care. I was too happy to see my girls after the hiatus and issues to care about the pain.

Come the unexpected announcement of their disbandment.

For someone whose world revolved around those four Korean women, it felt like my entire universe had come crashing down. My friends watched as I bawled my eyes out, unable to comprehend the news.

Soon, I lost interest in K-pop. Sure, I still listen to some songs and follow other groups, but I never invest as much time and emotion as I did with 2NE1 and Big Bang.

As an adult, I often tell people that while I might go to concerts, I’d never again feel the over-the-top joy and excitement I did as a teenager. I used to say that those memories would always hold a special place in my heart, but I had moved on to appreciating new interests and experiences. However, I ate my words.

When 2NE1 announced their comeback as a group and their reunion tour, the wave of nostalgia and excitement hit me harder than I ever imagined. It was just as intense, if not more than what I felt in my teenage years. I was at work when I saw the announcement, and I couldn’t focus. My hands trembled, tears streamed down my face, and I could barely contain my emotions.

I couldn’t sleep for weeks until I managed to secure VIP tickets. The buildup to the day of the event reignited the pure joy and uncontainable excitement I hadn’t felt in years. It reminded me that some things never truly leave us, no matter how much time has passed.

Then, the moment came. I finally did it. They were real, and I saw them perform up close. I cried four times during the concert but not during the sound check. I was too stunned to even process what was happening. They were so close, and I’d like to believe we made eye contact at some point. After the concert, my voice was completely gone, and my body ached so badly that I had to slather on ointments. Thank goodness I filed for vacation leave because while my heart and soul were still that young Blackjack, my body clearly wasn’t.

During those two days, I heard the songs that helped me go through puberty and early adulthood. I reunited with internet friends I’d known for years and met new acquaintances who shared the same love for the group.

As the final note lingered in the air and the lights dimmed, I felt like I was back in my youth. At that moment, I realized one thing with absolute certainty: I had come back home.

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Aureen Kyle Mandap is now 25 years old and still a proud fangirl.