Like any self-respecting millennial, I of course was a BSB fan back in the day (Kevin was my fave, BTW). And while I’ve long since swapped my Discman for Spotify and my bedroom posters for bills, when I heard the Backstreet Boys were doing an Into the Millennium residency at The Sphere in Las Vegas, my inner 13-year-old jumped for joy. So did the group chat.
So there we were—five women in our late thirties scattered across the country and deep in the trenches of parenting, caretaking, perimenopause (maybe??), career burnout, budget stress and general adulting fatigue. One friend couldn’t make it because she had a two-month-old at home. Another nearly bailed after a last-minute work event five hours away. But still, we rallied. We needed this.
And the Backstreet Boys delivered.





