BREAKING UP WITH MY STAN GIRL ERA

I did not fall out of love or outgrow K-pop. I simply realized the nasty culture that pervades it.

- By ANDREA BERNARDO

My journey as a stan began long before I knew what that term meant. It all started when One Direction hit the scene: I was barely a teenager, but their music and personalities resonated with me in a way I had never experienced. When they went on hiatus, I was devastated. It felt like a chapter of my life was closing, and I wasn't sure what could possibly fill the void.

But when one door closes, another one opens. For me, that door was K-pop.

I had been exposed to some mainstream groups, but my K-pop stan journey officially kicked off in 2019. As I developed a parasocial relationship with my favorite idol, I became conscious of how it could dangerously turn into an unhealthy obsession. I promised myself that I would never behave like a saesang "fans" who invade their idol's private life, often participating in dangerous and illegal behavior just to get close. My motto as a stan: stay closer to the stage and farther from their personal lives.

I couldn't afford albums or merch, but after landing my first job, I saved up for my first concert. It was a VIP front-row seat, the result of my camping out. Camping out for concerts is not so much a rational choice as an exercise in pure devotion. You give up the convenience of home and the security of friends and family to endure a sleepless night out on the pavement with strangers who have also forsaken all comforts. In the process, you meet new friends, get a few mosquito bites, and at the end of the day, go home with a once-in-a-lifetime experience. The planning, pre-concert jitters, and the camaraderie with fellow fans make it unforgettable. Some of the friends I made back then are still in my life, though now our conversations have shifted to where adulthood might lead us.