Growing up in Shreveport, Louisiana in a household where the f-word was familiar to my 3-year-old vocabulary, I was not prone to being shocked by much of anything by the time I reached puberty. However; like most kids my age, I became obsessed with the world of celebrity. The glitz and the glamor appealed to me because it was something that I did not have. I wanted it for myself, I wanted to be famous and have the loving adoration from my legions of fans. I wanted to accept my Oscar and be hailed “America’s Sweetheart,” but by the time I hit 10th grade and got my first serious boyfriend, crushing on Zac Efron suddenly wasn’t all that fun. I had a life of my own and celebrities no longer intrigued me the way they had before.
In 11th grade, I knew a girl who had an obsession with Tom Cruise. I’m not talking just a little crush. She knew every detail about his life, where he lived, his dead dog’s name, what he had for breakfast–everything. There was an instance where she posted a video to YouTube, crying about how in love she was with him and how she hoped he would “reach out to her” in some way. And while it was fun to silently snicker to myself every time we watched a Tom Cruise movie in my film studies class, I actually felt pretty bad for the girl. She was clearly lonely or delusional or something, right? The whole issue got me to thinking about how I too was once obsessed with celebrities. My 9-year-old self would have cut off my own arm to be with Leonardo DiCaprio, but looking back, I was never so obsessed that I would make a video and post it to YouTube in hopes that they would see it. Although I had crushes on celebrities as a kid, I always knew in the back of my mind that I didn’t stand a chance and my fantasies would never become reality.
If a celebrity can make someone that vulnerable, there’s clearly something wrong, am I correct? What do you think?