A short blog about Take That, first love… and heartbreak.

When I was 13 I fell head over heels in love with Robbie, Howard, Mark, Jason and Gary – better known as Take That. I am now 31, and my longest relationship is with a boy band… Sorry Mark, I meant pop group. We’ve grown up together and they are my first love. That’s OK, right?

I adored the boys (as I affectionately called them) – their songs made me dance, sing and cry (sometimes at the same time), I loved their sense of humour and the fun they seemed to have together and I had my mind blown on September 3rd 1993 when I saw the boys perform live at The Point. My favourite member was Robbie; I loved the rest of the boys, just not quite as much.

My room was covered with posters of Take That, and I mean covered. Some of the posters overlapped, the ceiling was enveloped and I had a border of posters across the floor. I had a deep bay window at the time, and it was filled with merchandise that was – as I look back – ridiculous. Alarm clocks, jewellery, perfume. You name it, I had it.

It’s strange to me now how much the little I knew of Take That affected my life. I remember reading Take That: In Private one night. There is a part in the book where Jason has a throat infection and rings home to talk to his mum. The thought of Jason being ill reduced me to tears. OK, I was 14, but still…

On July 16th 1995 my world imploded. I was enjoying a lie in – school was out for the summer – but was woken up by a phone call from my mum. She had heard on the Gerry Ryan show that Robbie had left Take That and rang to tell me. I hung up the phone and started crying. I didn’t stop for about four days.

This was the first time I had experienced heartbreak. I was always so logical about things that went wrong, but the idea that Robbie was no longer in Take That devastated me. It was as though he had died. I was convinced I would never see or hear about him again and that he was simply… gone. Of course this was not the case, and was probably never going to be the case, but it is hard to convince a heartbroken 15-year-old that the man who had just walked away from the pop group that she worshipped would go on to be the biggest artist in the world – for a while, at least.

I went to see Take That in Manchester, and missed Robbie through the whole performance, even when I got a wave from Jason. Take That split up the following year and while I was sad, I didn’t cry half as much as I cried for Robbie. Eventually, life went on. I grew up, I left school, I went to college… I met Gary, Robbie and Mark over the years and I still loved the boys somewhere deep inside, but that part of my life was over… Wasn’t it?

I do not need to tell you what happened next. Take That reformed as a four piece and the world went mad. I always maintained I would be front and centre for their reunion gig. And I was. I travelled around the UK and Ireland to see them. I met them in bars and had chats with them. I was delighted, but not nearly as obsessed as I had been 10 years before. This was fantastic, pure nostalgia mixed with new admiration but I could never imagine a day when Robbie would speak to Gary Barlow again, let alone appear on stage with him.

I could not be more wrong, 15 years to the day that Robbie left, Take That announced his return, along with a new album and tour. My 15-year-old heartbreak began to heal.

Last weekend I saw Take That – the original Take That – on stage in Croke Park. Twice. It is very difficult to describe how I felt seeing Robbie back on stage with the boys, but suffice it to say that I was bawling crying. I never ever thought I would see the day this would happen. I couldn’t help remembering myself as a teenager and wishing I could say to her – “It’s all right Brogen, really. A day will come when Take That will reform and you will be there to see it”. Even as I think of the person I used to be, I remember her pain and it’s hard to believe that things have finally come full circle.

The cracks in my heart – 16 years old – have finally healed. If only all heartbreaks could be so smoothly mended.

Thanks for everything, Take That. Thanks for leaving, and thanks for coming back.

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