Happy 34th Birthday Britney Spears! Love, Your Biggest Fan

Britney Spears in August at the MTV Awards. Photo: Getty Images

A friend recently asked me why I still love Britney Spears. We were at a Starbucks and I nearly choked on my Strawberry Frapp (Brit Brit’s favorite). Why would I, as a nearly 30-year-old gay man, still love Britney Spears?! In honor of her 34th birthday, let me count the ways.

It all started back in 1999, when I was an Absolutely Not A Straight, Not Yet A Fully Formed Gay tween growing up in Pittsburgh, — home of X-Tina, whoever that is — PA. “…Baby One More Time” took over the MTV airwaves and the pop universe was never the same. From the moment I saw Britney in that goose-bumps-inducing gray school uniform with a seductively tied crop top and pink pom-poms in her hair, I knew it was time to finally let go of my prepubescent crush on Ginger Spice. Britney was my one true love.

She had me at the first “Oh baby, baby” executed in her best nasal-y alto with a “come hither” subtext. She then changed my eyeballs’ lives forever when, clad in a red Latex catsuit, she whipped her hair extensions from here to Mars with chiseled backup dancers in the iconic “Oops!… I Did It Again” music video. And don’t get me started on her Disney-princess-gone-wild moment, aka the transcendent “I’m A Slave 4 U,” which resulted in my most profound unraveling.

Circa what many critics would call Britney’s “golden era” in 2001, I applied to be on MTV’s FANatic to showcase my love of Godney. My desperation to be on the show even extended to calling Brit Brit’s longtime assistant, Felicia Culotta, on Christmas Eve because I figured that’s when she would have a break from Britney’s slaying-the-universe schedule. It would go a bit like this: I would dial with Star 67, Felicia would hang up, and then I’d cry. Still, I was one prank call closer to my idol!

Anyway, some would call this behavior stalker-ish, but I say that’s what happens when you’re a confused, closeted kid growing up in suburbia in the pre-social media TRL era. Sadly but not surprisingly, I didn’t make the FANatic cut — I think this had to do with my audition tape, wherein my older sister filmed tween me doing the splits and lots of awkward gyrations to “Overprotected” — but I was forever determined to one day meet my pop queen.

You see, I loved/obsessed over Britney like she was a mythical creature whose veins flowed with pop princess magic. There was the insanity of her chiseled abs, the Elvis-like pelvic thrusting, the every-performance-and-album-and-outfit-being-instantly-iconic thing, and of course her stint dating fellow denim-loving Mouseketeer Justin Timberlake (who will always remain my biggest enemy for that shit "Cry Me A River” video, which made him a solo superstar!). I’m fine with Katy Perry and I love a Rihanna moment, but name a performance of theirs more dynamic than the “I’m A Slave 4 U” python dance or that fateful Madonna kiss!

Further more, from a duet with Michael Jackson to rocking the Super Bowl stage alongside Aerosmith, Britney has always been so humble when it comes to sharing the spotlight! Sure, Taylor Swift knows how to do a celebrity cameo as seen in her (“Toxic”-inspired) “Bad Blood” music video, but none of her homegirls can ever compete with Samantha Jones/Kim Cattrall playing Britney’s mum in Crossroads — a fantastic yet completely underrated coming-of-age film which also put emerging actresses Zoe Saldana and Taryn Manning in the spotlight as well as, you know, Shonda Rhimes, the film’s screenwriter.

Godney in 2001 at the MTV Awards performing “I’m a Slave 4 U.” Photo: Getty Images

Yes, it was all fun and games and a few wardrobe malfunctions, until it wasn’t. Britney would eventually go to rehab, temporarily lose custody of her kids, bomb at the MTV Video Music Awards, and finally, for the finale, shave off her extensions before later going HAM on a paparazzi’s car with an umbrella. Sure, she lost her mind there for a minute, but wouldn’t you if these camera-clutching hyenas were hounding your every move? Can’t a girl make a Target run in peace, y’all? It was all too much (although also so damn punk rock), but she found a light in the darkness, as superheroes tend to do. Her album around that time, Blackout, is now a critically acclaimed, ahead of its game record. (Those who consider “Toxic” to be her best song are clearly not a true fan of The Holy Spearit.)

After the salacious storm passed, my love for Britney and her no-f—s-given realness endured. That was the heyday when we she only wore Uggs, turtlenecks, and disheveled extensions — she’s just like us, y’all!

As of late, the Realney proof is in her Instagram, which she finally totally runs (shout out to her team for giving her the password to her own account!). Take note of the sea of videos featuring do-gooding Brit teaching dance classes to children as well as the adorable amusement park moments with her boys. There are also non-stop hiking and yoga poses, crashing a star struck Kate Hudson’s mansion on game night, the supermom quotes, and lot of fairy-heavy art — she is clearly a woman who is loving life!

Perhaps all this goodness has to do with Britney’s recent return as a dance-floor slaying master at her Piece Of Me residency in Las Vegas which regularly sells out and counts Miley Cyrus and Katy Perry among her screaming superfans. Even Adele bowed down to the altar recently when she referred to Britney as a “queen” in an interview (#FriendshipGoals). And it seems the feeling is mutual: after 15 years of holding the record for best album sales in the first week for a female artist (again that transcendent Oops!… I Did It Again LP), Adele’s 25 snatched it away. And what did our benevolent Brit Brit do? She posted a slo-mo video of her pirouetting (in sweats) to “Hello” with a caption that read, “I could dance to this song a MILLION times…love you @adele!” That’s my kind of pop star.

Yes folks, the Holy Spearit is back, and not only in our hearts but also in the studio for album #9. That is really the greatest gift of all for this hopelessly devoted fan. Happy birthday to my favorite “bitch” Britney Jean Spears! I promise I’ll never stalk you or your team again. Hope you get all the cheese grits and Strawberry Frapps that you want today of all days.

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