BTS Is Coming Back—And It Feels Like Reconnecting With An Old Friend

I first got into BTS when I was in the 7th grade, and my friend kept insisting that I must listen to this amazing K-pop boy band. I wasn't even into K-pop at the time, much less familiar with this random boy group. But I always did have an open mind, and with BTS' whole discography Bluetooth-ed to my phone later, I started familiarizing myself with the group.

I learned which songs I liked and reported back to my friend, who duly showed me all the band's music videos while I was in the getting-to-know-you phase with the boys. I told her which faces I found most attractive (Jungkook in "Dope" and Taehyung in "Boy In Luv" will forever have a chokehold on me), and my friend started her own training camp to teach me to recognize which name matched which (admittedly good-looking) face.

And despite my intense frustration upon learning that my associating-hair-color-to-name was not a viable strategy, considering K-pop idols dye their hair every other week, I eventually got the hang of it. (So maybe they don't look as alike as I initially thought!)

Eventually, I became my friend: I came to be that girl who would go up to her friends, shove a picture of BTS in their face, and ask which boy is the most handsome. I turned into the fan that would wait for 11 p.m. (midnight in Korea) for music video drops and chat excitedly (read: fawn over our biases) with my friends who were fellow ARMYs—BTS' fanbase name, BTW!—the next day in school. I found myself constantly streaming their music and buying their merch and wanting more, my heart beating extra fast with every comeback announcement.

Though BTS initially struggled, through grit, persistence, determination, and sheer belief in themselves, they gave their "Blood, Sweat & Tears" and eventually reached unparalleled levels of success, slowly climbing higher and higher until they reached "The Most Beautiful Moment in Life."

BTS wasn't like other groups. They didn't just sing and dance to pop songs—well, they did, but they also talked about struggles of the youth, about mental health, and about societal pressures. And there was always a personal touch to their songs because the members themselves were involved in the songwriting process.

They became known for their intense choreography, synchronized performances, and strong group chemistry (watching their year-end award show performances became one of my favorite Christmastime activities 🥵).

In their later years, I watched them explode even more into popularity, if that was possible, with the release of "Dynamite," "Butter," and "Permission to Dance"—all full-English songs that you can tell were written to target their US audience. 

It wasn't necessarily a bad thing—I mean, who am I to complain if I'm getting songs I actually know the words to?—but a part of me just felt like BTS was losing part of what made me love them so much: their authenticity. (ARMYs, don't come at me, that's just my opinion. 😔)

I still loved them, though—you don't fall out of love that easily. I loved them through all their new albums, through every GRAMMYs they were invited to and every late-night show they got to guest in, through every record-breaking world tour (I even got to attend the Las Vegas stop of their Permission to Dance tour for my 18th birthday! #flex). I loved them as they represented South Korea on a global stage and paved the way for other K-Pop groups.

I loved them even when they announced a hiatus from group activities in 2022, pausing at their peak.

I loved them even though I didn't believe it when they said it wasn't disbandment but a shift towards solo works before they embarked on their mandatory military service. Look at One Direction's "hiatus"-turned-permanent or NSYNC when Justin Timberlake found success as a solo artist—I was so sure BTS was heading down the same path. 

And so the seven members started pursuing their own careers—there were no full-group promotions, and it was rare to see members together (like, OMG-look-Jimin-just-posted-a-picture-with-RM rare). They focused on their solo albums and went searching for just who they are as artists, outside of BTS.

They explored different music genres that they may not have gotten the opportunity to had they stuck with the group. It marked a period of reflection for them as artists, now that they'd paused their nonstop hustle. They matured and grew, and with their respective successes, they left for the military.

As a somewhat longtime fan, I'd seen the military service coming—it was mandatory for all South Korean men, after all—but there was talk of the government exempting them, talk of their entertainment company timing their service together so that the boys would be serving simultaneously so they'd all exit at the same time.

None of that happened, and just like that, I became one of millions, waiting for my military husbands to come back home.

And even though I'd loved them through so much, the truth was that a lot can happen in three years. So much snow fell before that one "Spring Day" would come—it felt like there was no end to that eternal winter.

I lost track of them—in fact, I'd already started to when they were pursuing their solo careers. It wasn't "Fake Love," per se. It just wasn't the same.

Without me noticing, BTS completely disappeared from my Spotify Wrapped. I stopped following when each member would get out of the military. When Suga, the last of the boys to complete their service, returned, I didn't even know and had to hear about it from my friends, even though his coming home marked their would-be return as a group, even though I was allegedly an ARMY.

"Life Goes On," and for me, it did.

So where does that leave me? 

With their comeback looming in the near distance, each member is poised to bring a distinct solo color to the group, and when put together, those colors could make the loveliest rainbow ever—a new combination of colors altogether as opposed to returning to their old formula, pre-hiatus.

Now that they're just a bit older, just a bit more mature, I predict that they'll be less focused on climbing Western charts and instead ground themselves in more artistic autonomy, like their roots. They're going to strike a balance between the Korean-rooted storytelling they zeroed in on in their past and the global pop sensations they painted themselves out to be before the hiatus.

They'll reclaim their identity as seasoned artists, cement their legacy, and prove once and for all that they've stood the test of time.

As for me, an ARMY who, like a million before her, was crazy about them pre-hiatus but has since (as sad as it sounds) lost interest—BTS will always mean something to me. After all, I did watch them grow up—from everyone treating Jungkook as the baby, to everyone losing their mind over him saying "fuck" in "Savage Love" (let's not talk about the explicit version of "Seven," either 😵‍💫).

You'd be surprised how easy it is to slip back into what's familiar.

So really, the comeback on March 20 isn't just a reunion for the boys—it'll be a reunion for all the fans who watched them grow through the years, waited patiently for them to do what they had to do, and finally, return home to where they belong: on stage, with millions chanting their name, their hearts beating as one.