As a grown up- which I am, broadly, depending on who you ask and how much toothpaste I’ve spilt on my shirt- it can be a little bit embarrassing to be such a fangirl.
I’m plagued by enthusiasm for bloggers and vloggers, which is an odd problem for someone masquerading as a functioning adult. But today, instead of chastising myself, I’m here to reclaim fangirling. Reclaim it for the adults, for the over twenties, for professionals. Fangirling is ours too.
The stereotype of the fangirl is usually this: emotional pre-teen, surrounded by Zoella merchandise, weeping over Zayn and forming a Twitter army against anyone who says a sponsored post was lame. Neurotic, naive and gullible.
Feminist side note time! Isn’t it super cute how we mock and lambast young girl’s passion? It’s a good job young boys don’t get into Twitter fights over football matches, or spend their money on celeb-endorsed products, otherwise we’d have to bemoan their interests and passions too!
But here I am. With bills to pay, a nine to five, having had a serious conversation about pensions already, flushed with excitement because a blogger RT-d my tweet. Is this pathetic? Am I doling out undue attention to narcissists?
No. No I am not. I refuse to have my excitement and enthusiasm crushed. Unlike the tween Belieber, the #Zalfie screenshotter, I am an adult. And the good thing about being an adult is that I can look anyone who is too-cool-for-school about everything square in the eye and say ‘Fuck off. I don’t care’.
Bring me your faves. Tell me your OTPs. Show me your edits. Send me your screenshots of your tweets being faved. Join me in a chorus of ‘I love your work!’. I want it all.
Let’s lose the attitude that showing nerd-like enthusiasm for anything, being excited, squeeling, or eagerness is a negative. Firstly, it devalues the work, creativity and effort bloggers and vloggers put in- a damnsite more than various ‘real’ celebrities. Secondly, please stop treating joy as lame.
I contend that ‘fangirling’ is joy in action. Joy, and being joyful, is supposed to be uncontainable. It’s supposed to be happy. It’s fucking joy for god’s sake. And just because I’m past sixteen doesn’t mean I can’t revel in it- even if it’s over meeting someone with a million Instagram followers.
I recently met two bloggers I have been reading for years at The Quarter Club: Satisfaction Salon. When I spotted them- and this is no exaggeration- my heart jumped. I’m not ashamed of that- two women I admire and had never spoken to before were yards away from me, ripe for my giddy hugging, and I fangirled.
In all honestly, I was made up- but I wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t accepted the joy offered to me by fangirling- and I’ll be damned if that was denied to be for the sake of being ‘cool’. That ship has sailed, sonny.