I used to have an unhealthy obsession with the Jonas Brothers. I was 11 and in the 5th grade when they came through Grand Rapids on tour with Hannah Montana. I remember desperately crying to my mom for tickets. I remember breathlessly waiting on the phone with local radio stations trying so hard to win. I’ll never forget the devastation of three of my elementary school friends getting a chance to go without me. They all made their matching signs and matching t-shirts. All of their moms posted pictures on Facebook.
But why wasn’t I going!?
Afterall, I had a giant poster of their #1 album taped on the wall where my red, metal-framed top bunk rested in our little two bedroom apartment. Peppered around that poster was every image I could get my hands on of those boys. I cut out interview after interview and headshot after headshot of each of them from each TeenBeat magazine that I got my hands on at the local grocery store. Of course, I favored Joe, so he and Camp Rock were the most present, next to the aforementioned “Little Bit Longer” poster I acquired from the Scholastic book fair. Like I said. Unhealthy obsession.
But looking back now, I can totally see that so much of pouring myself into every JB lyric that rang out of my portable karaoke machine and singing about break ups I had never had with joyous passion in the shower were all coping mechanisms. Music and the Jonas Brothers became this safe escape for me.
I think that’s why going to see them live as an adult with my sister is so ridiculously fun and healing. It’s this wild, safe, escape that my younger self never really thought she would see. When we stand together side by side and scream, “Hold On,” until our voices give out, I am reminded of that happy, safe, space. I’ve never stood more in awe of what my sister and I have been through and what we have become on the other side of it all than I do in those loud concert venues. Call me corny, but it's true.
My sister and I come from a world where you had to hold tightly to the amusement and happiness we found. We come from a world where my dad would be awake all hours of the night, and Sydnie had her 6-year-old body trained to wake up every couple of hours to check on his safety. She would follow him through the house and out to the garage to make sure his cigarette butts were put out. During the day we heated Pizza Bagels and Hot Pockets for ourselves as meals coupled with Hi-C orange juice boxes. My dad would try to prepare food sometimes, but the drugs had him so in and out of consciousness constantly, that we would often come behind him to turn off burners, clean up messes, and lift his head to make sure he didn’t aspirate in his bowl of cereal. When he wasn’t face down somewhere, he was working too hard, or talking poorly about my mother and their divorce. Time at dad’s was about survival. And when you’re fighting for that, you cling hard and fast to what is comforting.
For Syd and I, that was Disney Channel and the Jonas Brothers. Between the 2 of us, we scratched the life out of our JB and Camp Rock CDs. When dad couldn’t be found around the house, we played the music louder. When we were scared, we sang the words louder. When we felt alone, we danced longer. We didn’t realize the solid rock that this boy band truly was for us until many years later.
Maybe you follow the JB Drama, maybe you don’t care even a little, but just so we are all on the same page, after several years of being split up and starting various solo projects, the brothers got back together. They released a new album, and they went out on tour. I genuinely couldn’t believe it when my sister and brother-in-law surprised me with tickets to their reunion tour. I’ve never been so emotional at a concert.
Laugh at me all you want, but that moment was symbolic for so many reasons. Here my sister and I stood in our 20s, a decade past our biggest childhood traumas, and there aren’t adequate words for the gratitude, appreciation, and pride I had for my sister. Standing and watching this silly band that we loved so much work through their difficulties to gift their fans with new and meaningful music was so symbolic of everything we faced as kids, all that we overcame together.
Because here’s the thing: I wouldn’t be who I am, where I am without my sister. Even when we see the world through different lenses, she gets me because she’s been in the trenches with me. I am not me without her. So we have a vow to uphold now; We see the Jonas Brothers every time they tour.
And that’s why we were in Detroit last night. The best part for me though, wasn’t screaming the words to all of my favorite songs. It wasn’t being in the same room as Joe Jonas. It was being in the moment with my sister, sharing that safe, happy space where we just got to be us. My friends, we came dressed as Nick and Joe when they were on the Disney Channel Games. Glorious sweatbands, tube socks, and all. It was silly, and we definitely stood out in a stadium full of 20 somethings in classy jumpsuits and little red dresses. We definitely got looks, but we didn’t care. It was so freeing. And we laughed so much. At each other. At everything. Joy just bubbled out of us all night.
It’s similar to the playful joy I found on vacation up on Beaver Island last week. I get the craziest privilege of going up to the Island for at least a week every summer with friends I consider family. The best part about Island living is that I just get to go up there, breathe, and be. I get to exist exactly as myself with no agenda or plan. I find the most comforting and beautiful freedom in that. So much of that manifests itself in silliness and play while I’m up north.
One of my favorite moments like this happened after a long day of frustration with the wind. I just wanted to nap in my hammock that morning, but it was so windy in our backyard right on the harbor. It was too cold, and it kept waking me up. After lunch, we actually went out for a longer hike, so when I returned to the cabin, I was feeling extra warm. Normally, before this point in the week I would have jumped into Lake Michigan already. But this year was a little cooler, and now that I was feeling the need to cool off, this was my moment. I moved the fastest that I probably moved all week to get changed and grab my beach towel.
Moments later, I was giving in to the breeze and plunging into the icy cold harbor waves. For a few moments I swam, fully submerged, the cold taking my breath away. I would stand up from the water to feel the freedom and joy in the wind whipping my hair and caressing my water droplet covered elbows. I was so awake. So alive. For several moments I stood waist deep and just splashed around like a little kid. I would cup my hand, hit the water, let the wind push the spray against my face, and I would just giggle.
There is such powerful freedom in just finding spaces where you can be fully you, let loose, and laugh, find joy. If you don’t have that space right now, go find it. It’s so important. And then do everything you can to bring that into every other compartment of your life until the real version of you is who the rest of the world gets to see.
The moral of this is, keep the people and the things that bring you joy nice and close. I’m really proud of the person that I am today, and it took a lot of work to get to her. I think my sister would probably say the same thing about herself. These days, I am in a space where I just get to be her, do what makes her happy, chase the dreams she has, and not worry so much about embarrassing herself along the way. Because what matters is the journey I am on and my ability to enjoy moments on that journey, even when I get sideways glances from strangers at a Jonas Brothers concert as a 26-year-old making a Tik-Tok with her sister.
Life's too short. Go be silly today.
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