That Time I Friend Zoned Donnie Wahlberg
- Kahmeela Adams
- Apr 24
- 11 min read
I don’t recall the exact time or place New Kids on the Block entered into my life. You Got It (The Right Stuff) was released in 1988, smack dab in the middle of junior high for me. One could say it was the perfect storm of 13-year-old hormones and a group of cute boys singing and dancing to what would become my music. Plenty of other young girls around the world were feeling the exact same way. Seemingly overnight, New Kids were everywhere. They were on bed sheets, t-shirts, dolls, lunchboxes, Saturday morning cartoons….everywhere.
Every family trip to the grocery store became a mission. I’d bolt for the magazine racks to see which "Teen Bop" or "Tiger Beat" featured "my boys" on the cover. Those photos eventually claimed every square inch of my tweenage bedroom walls as I daydreamed about which one I would marry. Sweet Joey McIntyre seemed too young—though it turns out he’s actually three years my senior. Jordan Knight was cute, but perhaps "too pretty" for my taste. Jonathan seemed even more awkward than I felt, and Danny Wood was a bit too buff for a guy singing about eternal love.
Then there was Donnie Wahlberg. He was "the one."
Donnie was the “bad boy” of the group. At that time, “bad boy” just really meant that his jeans were super ripped, he wore bandanas, and he liked to play practical jokes on his bandmates. A few years later, that reputation would evolve into drunkenly setting hotel carpets on fire (no one was hurt). My attraction to Donnie was an early indicator of my "type"—a pattern that would follow me into adulthood. But it wasn't just the ripped denim. Donnie had a certain whimsy; he was fun, funny, and possessed a level of swag I couldn’t yet define but instinctively craved. He always seemed a little too cool to be in a boy band, yet it was obvious he was loving every single minute of it.
In my eighth-grade class, loyalty was defined by the giant buttons pinned to our denim jackets. We wore our "husbands" like badges of honor, a middle-school hierarchy established through merchandise and music videos. My 14th birthday felt like the pinnacle of that obsession when my mother surprised me with tickets to see my "most favorite band in the world." Living in a city that major tours usually bypassed, this was a rare miracle, even if it meant a trek to Detroit. But the Michigan winter had other plans. A brutal snowstorm drifted in that weekend, burying the roads and my dreams of seeing Donnie in the flesh. I wasn't just disappointed; at 14, I was utterly devastated.
🎶“Girl, we've known each other for so long/Chemistry between us has grown strong” 🎵
My obsession with the boys dwindled throughout high school, but the love always secretly remained. In a moment of ill-advised rebranding, they released a new album in 1993 entitled “Face the Music”, officially changing their name to NKOTB. Even though that wasn’t really where I was musically anymore, I bought a used copy. “Face the Music” was like their battle cry, telling the world there was more to them than the bubble gum trading cards and neon clothing. No longer teens, they were playing with a sexier vibe.
The first single released, “Dirty Dawg” is all about getting cheated on, even though she was given everything, and now she’s begging to be taken back. The music video features the boys wearing clothing that screams of white boys trying to be “down.” The backward newsboy's hats, oversized jeans, multi-pocketed vests, flannels, and leather gloves. Most of them were sporting the Ceaser haircut made popular by the ER version of George Clooney. Joey is wearing ski goggles with no snow in sight. Oh, and the pencil-thin goatees not every man was able to pull off that year. The kids were naaa-sty! Donnie even had a walking stick—sweet fancy Moses.
In my opinion, there are about four decent songs on that album. Commercially, I don’t think it was much of a success. After we all faced the music, New Kids on the Block, or NKOTB as a unit, seemed to be a thing of the past. A couple of them had solo projects, while Donnie seemed to concentrate on his acting career. Did anyone else buy a ticket to “The Sixth Sense” movie because you were told Donnie was in it, only to get to the end credits and realize you never saw him? And then you read the credits and were mortified? Or was that just me? I kept up with Donnie and his acting career, seeing any movie or TV show he was on, no matter the quality. Although I never did make it through “Blue Bloods”.
In 1999, Jordan Knight released his self-titled solo album. It was a quintessential late-nineties record, and honestly, it still holds up today. Coincidentally, my "forever favorite" Donnie co-produced the best track on the album, “Don’t Run.” Driven by a need to make up for the 1988 concert that never was, my friends and I caught Jordan’s solo tour twice. The shows were great, but the highlight was a quick meet-and-greet. When I finally stood before him, Jordan let his eyes linger on my boob-boosting tank top to read the "RuggedAngel" logo across my chest. He asked me what it said, his gaze holding mine just a beat too long, and for a split second, I felt like I could have made some very questionable decisions with him that night. But that is a story for a different essay.
🎶“Little girl you’re clearly not the same kid from the block”🎵
In 2008, the grown-ass women of Generation X were blindsided by a miracle: the boys were back. After 14 years of radio silence, a literal lifetime for a Blockhead, they reemerged with a calculated campaign of cryptic social media teases and a Today Show appearance. To everyone’s relief, they finally ditched the clunky "NKOTB" acronym and reclaimed their full government name.
Their reentry into our hearts was "Summertime," a music video that played like a fever dream for suburban moms everywhere. It opens with the guys, all bathed in golden-hour lighting on yachts and beaches, receiving a "Bat-Signal" text from Donnie telling them it’s time to get to work. I still love the song, though I’ve always been slightly suspicious of Jordan’s verse, which strongly suggests he has a very loose interpretation of "personal boundaries."
They were all grown up, and so were their fans. We now had our own money to spend on whatever frivolous things we wanted. We longed to go back in time to a life sans parental and career responsibilities. The Gen X Blockheads were immediately reminded of the special feeling each one of our boys gave us. The new album was called “The Block”, and the second single, called Single, was the one that made me fall right back in love. It was a sexy little groove with a line that goes, “pretend that I’m your man tonight.” Knowing full well that’s what we’ve all been doing since 1989. And the music video, which takes place in a dance club, proved that the boys, er, men still had the swag and sex appeal, even more so now that they were grown.
While not every track on that album was a certified banger, it was more than enough to restore me to full-blown "fan girl" status. By February 2013, the stars finally aligned: a new tour was announced, and they were actually coming to my town. I hovered over the "buy" button, but my adult brain couldn’t quite justify the price of admission. My husband, however, had a longer memory than I did. He remembered the tragic tale of the 1988 blizzard and decided it was time for some cosmic restitution.
For my birthday, he presented me with three tickets. His only condition? One of them was for him. The thought of my husband, a man who had likely never sat through a New Kids song by choice, volunteering for this level of boy-band proximity was hilarious. His reason? He simply "wanted to witness my joy." (Cue the heart eyes). The final ticket went to the only other person worthy of the madness: my younger sister. As an OG Blockhead who had shared a bedroom wall with me during the peak of our obsession, she didn't hesitate. She hopped on a plane and headed my way, ready to reclaim our youth in June.
While we patiently waited for concert day, a new album dropped in April. The first single off of “10” was “Remix (I Like The)”. The song is about a woman’s significant glow-up, who goes from “wallpaper to heartbreaker.” A sentiment most of their female fans would readily identify with… or at least hope to. The song kicks off with a funky drumbeat, reminiscent of a 50s pop song. In keeping with that vibe, Donnie et al are in the video, wearing matching suits and clean pocket squares, looking like they should be on the Ed Sullivan Show. This album just made me even more hyped for our chance to finally see them live.
🎶“25 years still got ‘em packed in/still keep ‘em moist need a napkin”🎵
June 11, 2013, finally arrived, and with it, "The Package Tour" descended upon Pittsburgh. My sister and I were vibrating with a level of giddiness that we weren’t aware that we possessed. The bill featured 98 Degrees and Boyz II Men, but assuming the rock-star "fashionably late" rule applied, we took our sweet time. We didn't mind missing 98 Degrees, but we strolled in halfway through Boyz II Men only to realize—son of a bitch—they actually started on time! Apparently, that’s the true marker of an adult concert. Everyone involved knows the audience has work in the morning and babysitters on a ticking clock. Punctuality is the new rock 'n' roll.
We hustled to our seats, and I nearly hit the floor. I’d had a vague idea of our location, but I wasn't prepared for the reality: Floor seats. Right at the edge of the stage. My husband didn't just earn "major points" with that move; he secured his Hall of Fame status.
We stood there for fifteen minutes, trying to act like poised, functioning members of society. My sister and I generally keep our emotions close to the vest, but as the house lights plummeted, something primal began to take over. Donnie’s voice boomed through the arena, reciting a series of pre-show affirmations over the big screens: “I am prepared to have the time of my life. I will leave all the drama and worries behind. I deserve this night.”
By the time he roared, “We own tonight!” I was covered in chills. The first few bars of the opening track kicked in, the stage lights exploded, and my sister and I were reduced to clutching each other like we were back in our shared teenage bedroom. And then, there they were. Donnie, Danny, Jordan, Jonathan, and Joey.
After decades of music videos, cassette tapes, and those iconic posters that once wallpapered my life, the "husbands" had finally arrived. And they were right in front of me.
The energy in the arena was vibrating with thousands of screaming women, letting out all the stress of adulthood and returning to the young girls they once were, daydreaming about their favorite boy band. Before we could stop it, my sister and I were screaming right along with them. Losing our level-headed minds, transforming into FANGIRLS of the highest degree.
That show secured a permanent spot in my top five concerts of all time. These men were all well over forty, yet they were hitting the choreography, nailing the notes, and working the crowd with a level of fitness that makes me question my life choices. They seamlessly wove the classics like "You Got It (The Right Stuff)" with newer tracks like "Block Party," and even threw in a cover of George Michael’s "Faith" for good measure. It was a two-hour party that no one wanted to end.
Maybe it was during “Didn’t I (Blow Your Mind This Time)”, but my sister got the 2nd best concert interaction for the night. Joey, her undisputed favorite, strolled to the edge of the stage, grabbed her hand, and serenaded her for a line or two. I had never seen a person actually swoon in real life. I thought it was just a thing people did in Victorian novels or classic films, but there she was, swooning.
The New Kids have zero respect for personal space, as they navigated the floor like they were testing the structural integrity of our heart rates, teasing the crowd with a strategic parade of abs and glistening sweat. Jordan shimmied by, and Jonathan, bless him, gave us a respectful nod of approval as he watched two grown women perform the "Right Stuff" arm-swings with terrifying accuracy. Meanwhile, Danny Wood was breakdancing so close I could have reached out and checked his pulse.
As the show neared its climax, the boys changed into Boston Red Sox jerseys (a nod to their Boston roots) and the stage began to rise to the opening chords of the Dropkick Murphys’ "I’m Shipping Up to Boston." The energy shifted into overdrive as it morphed into "Hangin’ Tough." Confetti cannons exploded as the boys pulled out all the stops. As the confetti rained down and the stage ascended, the "Bad Boy" Donnie fans, the Joey girls, and the exhausted husbands were all united in the chaos.
Donnie was going full-throttle, stalking the stage with energy and purpose. Suddenly, he landed just a few feet from me. Our eyes locked, and then, in a move that would have caused my 1988-self to spontaneously combust, he pointed directly at me.
By this point of the night, I was deep in "party mode" and had apparently lost all sense of social hierarchy. Instead of playing it cool, I waved him over with a "come on then!" gesture, as if I were beckoning a friend over at a backyard BBQ.
And then he actually came over.
Before I could process what was real and what was a hallucination brought on by nostalgia and arena lights, Donnie Wahlberg was standing directly in front of me, leaning in for a kiss. In that split second, a frantic board meeting was held inside my brain. At least 5,733 thoughts competed for floor space:
Is this actually happening?
Is he aiming for the lips? He’s definitely aiming for the lips.
Wait—how many other strangers’ lips has he kissed on this tour circuit since Monday?
My husband is literally standing right there.
RESPOND, WOMAN!
As his face closed the final gap, the "Responsible Wife" and the "Germaphobe" overthrew the "Inner Fangirl." I executed a tactical pivot, offering him my cheek instead of my mouth.
Donnie Wahlberg kissed my cheek, and then I promptly, metaphorically, blacked out.
When I came to, I kind of walked away from the stage towards my husband. My husband, true to form, just laughed. He had come to "witness my joy," but he ended up witnessing his wife professionally friend-zone a multi-platinum superstar. To this day, he still teases me about it. But honestly? I’m okay with it. I might be the woman who turned down a kiss from Donnie Wahlberg, but I’m also the girl who finally got her concert, her floor seats, and a story that was worth way more than a half-second of lip-lock.
The show was now officially over and I had no idea what to do with myself. If it weren’t for my husband, sister and the random women recognizing me as the one Donnie picked, I would swear the whole thing was a hallucination 24 years in the making.
A few years later, my husband and I were interviewed for a video about marriage. Naturally, this story made its way into the final cut. The video eventually made its way onto Facebook, documenting the moment I famously swerved the man from my junior high bedroom wall. Then, the notification of a lifetime popped up. Donnie Wahlberg hadn’t just seen the video, he had something to say! In a move that was equal parts class-act and soul, he didn’t just laugh at the "friend-zone" pivot. He wrote: “Love this. Love you guys. Beautiful spirits. Hubby is a good sport.”
It was the ultimate full-circle moment. My childhood crush had officially blessed my marriage. I may have missed the concert in 1988, and I may have missed the lips in 2013, but getting a digital "love you guys" from Donnie Wahlberg was the "Right Stuff".
For obvious reasons, that was the best concert experience I have ever had. The company, the performance, and the personal attention from my biggest boy band crush. My only regret is that I have no photographic proof of any of it. Just my memories and the smile that creeps on my face whenever I see photos and videos of Donnie in his slutty little glasses.
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