Monday Musings: Six the Musical and a Lesson from the Queens

I spent last night at the Solaire Theater, catching Six the Musical, and it's still on my mind. If you haven’t heard of it yet (where have you been?), it’s the story of Henry VIII’s wives, but told with a twist: pop concert meets history class, complete with a dash of glitter and a lot of attitude.

Now, I’ll be honest. I went in thinking, “Okay, how exactly are they going to make 16th-century royal drama into something worth my Sunday night?” It’s actually my husband who’s more of a fan of the musical than I am! But about 10 minutes in, I realized they knew exactly what they were doing. The energy was infectious, with every performer giving their own take on the queen they played, turning six women who’ve been pretty much reduced to “divorced, beheaded, died” into full-on headliners. It’s like they took these women, who history has mostly painted as tragic or troublesome, and let them be, well, human. But with better costumes.

Speaking of which, the costumes—yes, they were fantastic, but in a way that made sense. They weren’t just for show; each piece was a reflection of the queen's persona, blending Tudor styles with modern pop flair. I especially loved seeing Anne Boleyn’s capital B in her costume, which stood for her iconic B pearl necklace in one of her paintings. Just random details like that made the costumes more interesting!

But here's what really stuck with me: Six is fundamentally about reclaiming your narrative. These women have been reduced to footnotes in history, defined solely by their relationship to one (frankly, not-so-great) guy. And here they are, on stage, insisting that their stories matter. It’s a pointed reminder that if you don’t tell your story, someone else will—and you probably won’t like their version. It’s one of those messages that feels uncomfortably relevant, even in 2024.

Think about it: how many times do we keep quiet, thinking our side isn’t worth telling? Or that it won’t make a difference? And yet, staying silent means letting others control the narrative, and we’ve seen how that plays out, time and time again. History tends to get a little repetitive when we don’t challenge it. Seeing these women finally claim their voices felt like a punch in the gut, in the best possible way.

So yeah, if you have the chance to see it, do. Not just for the glitter and the infectious songs, but for that underlying message: your voice matters, even if history tried to tell you it didn’t.

And as I sit here, trying to psych myself up for another work week, I keep thinking about that. How we all need to stop letting others tell our stories, because that’s how history changes—one voice at a time. Even if it’s not on a stage, even if it’s just in the everyday moments, don’t let your story get swallowed up by fear.