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whatisgendernoisgender · 6 years

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Reflecting on The Dangers of Fandom

When I was 14, music was my whole life. Hell, from the moment I was born not a minute went by without a cassette or CD being played; by my teenage years I was known for always having a walkman or iPod in hand. I had always dreamed of talking to those who created the soundtrack of my life-- potentially getting to know them on a personal level was my biggest fantasy. Forget dating so-and-so or other YA Novel-ready plots: I just wanted to understand those that were like gods to me. Despite acting like my teenage years are far behind me, I entered High School in 2009-- it just seems so distant considering how quickly our online landscape has changed. The final nail in Myspace's coffin was hammered, and all those looking to network for their careers turned to a still semi-young Facebook. It was a strange time where the site allowed fake Myspace-esque names and adding your favourite band member (should you find them and should it be real) wasn't all that strange to those formerly loyal to Tom. It was around that time too that Twitter was just starting to take off, and quickly it turned into a place where fandom thrived.

I created my first Twitter account that year-- wary of the site and at the time, not as reliant on streaming every last thought from my mind and onto my profile-- but quickly I found my footing. At the time, I had been getting into the band Black Veil Brides, a direction I cringe thinking about, but it was the first time I saw the new extent of fandom (short of creating band-centric guilds on Neopets in 2006). This group of fans were ravenous-- each member desperately trying to attain any amount of attention possible: a "Favourite" (now known as "Likes"), a "RT", a reply, but the holy grail of attention was a follow and the sweet, sweet indirect friendship it implied. Fans quickly made accounts for different regions, some were dedicated to band members and their body parts, while others were based on jokes-- but all were created to hopefully get the follow. It wasn't long after I joined Twitter that I created one such account (being honest, I made multiple) and was followed by the singer. Success! I felt like a celebrity within the fandom as I quickly racked up followers in the thousands for nothing more than having a notable follower; but it was never the fame I was after. I exploited this follow in tweet-based conversations, in DMs, all in a desperate and delusional attempt to forge a real friendship. When you're 13, 14 years old, you don't think about the reality of the situation. You don't think about how it would be outright WEIRD for a grown man to want to be friends with his teenage fan-- you think you're cooler than that and way more mature. The story of my time in the BVB fandom was, by all means, a good one. I enjoyed being recognized by the band at shows and it was just so unreal to be seen by this band that I had loved so much. In about two years time I grew out of their sound and left the fandom, eager to reclaim an identity independent of a band-- but soon I would find myself repeating the same cycle, to less wholesome results.

I was talking to a friend about a year later via AIM, chatting about music as per usual and what we were getting into. I had at the time just discovered Lana Del Rey and Marina and The Diamonds, while my friend was talking about Motionless In White. "Oh! Them!"-- back in my days as a BVB fan, one of the last shows of theirs I went to had Motionless opening. At the time they were nothing-- a band with a shock-goth image who had just released their debut record Creatures. While I wasn't truly a fan of the screamo-metalcore sound, the record helped me get past my rampant anger issues. After a fight with my friends or my parents I would resort to my room, play Creatures, and punch my pillow-- typically crying it out by the end of the record. On top of the primal rage, I took joy being able to identify the album's various references from classic horror, to Tim Burton, to The Smiths-- it was angry music that I felt was made for me, and it was special. So when my friend brought up the band, a spark was lit. I never listened to them outside of my bursts of anger, but as they were special to me I decided to look into what the band had been up to. "Oh, look! Apparently they have a new member!" It didn't take long until I stumbled across his Facebook "Should we add him?" I should have realized something was off when he added me and not my friend, but at the time it didn't matter-- it was just so cool that he had accepted the request.

From the beginning of that summer on, what in my eyes was a friendship, was born. Starting with comments on photos and posts we began to express mutual interests and ideas. Me, being insecure about friendships offered to bring brownies when I saw them at Warped Tour-- a promise I made good on. To me, my experience with BVB taught me this was normal and if anything, I was actually making a real friend. It's not until looking back now, nearly 7 years after the start of all of this, that I can see the red flags and sirens so deafening I can't help but beat myself up for being so blind. It started off small-- like him commenting "Beautiful" on profile pictures, something I took as a genuine platonic compliment, and grew to outright flirting. I would pass it off though as nothing but a friend being really nice because "He has a girlfriend and is way older than me, he has no reason to do otherwise." My naiveté is a recurring theme. By this time, eager to impress my new friend more before he realized how uncool I was (residual insecurities from fleeting friendships in my youth) I began to change my image. I had ways been a bit dark, having been raised on The Cure, but I always rejected the notion of being limited to a stereotype. After having first been called Goth at the age of 9, every year I set out to confuse my tormentors-- punk one day, the next girly and feminine. I always saw myself as multidimensional and quiet varied, but when suddenly what I had previously been tormented for would give me points with my new friend, I leaned in hard. It at first wasn't anything unnatural or forced, but that would change as I began to get sucked into the more sexualized, BDSM-centric side of the goth image-- at the time though, my only complaint was I could no longer tweet about which member of One Direction I loved the most (trick question, it was all of them but Louis). However, my darker image was getting me the attention I was after to secure this friendship and I utilized my photography skills to stage bathroom photoshoots to compete with the pretty Tumblr girls-- this time, I was out for validation for that which got me bullied in my youth.

On my 17th birthday, my mom and I were supposed to see this Industrial band called Imperative Reaction-- we loved them and it would have been a sweet mother-daughter birthday treat, especially as we had VIP tickets to meet the band. Alas, at the last minute after not being able to find a babysitter for my brother, I had to go alone; but no matter, I would still have an amazing birthday. I met the band, and began talking to two members in particular who were also in another band playing that night. One of the guys was I believe in his mid twenties at the time, while the other was in his early thirties, if not on the cusp. I boasted about how it was my 17th birthday-- oh and my name is Rae, hi! They wished me a happy birthday and I wished them a good show... and then waiting at the barricade, I got a friend request. It was from the guy in his mid-twenties and he immediately began messaging me, I can't remember the nature of the conversation but it was nothing alarming to me-- definitely strange but not alarming considering at some point that evening I was given the # of the guy in his thirties. Once again, I was so under this delusion of being so mature that these older men wanted to be friends, but just friends, it's sickening. Perhaps it was because I grew up listening to tales of my cousin getting ice cream with Jimmy Page and my Aunt's life-long friendship with Jimi Hendrix... but it's alarming to think I never thought this was weird.

Fast forward to December. Motionless in White was coming back to town, and what did you know-- the band that these two guys were also in, The Witch Was Right, were opening! I immediately bought my ticket and asked a friend to come with me-- I was ready for a fun night with someone I at the time, considered a new friend. I was ready though, for the first of many harsh awakenings I would come to face over the next 6 months. Before getting to the show, mid-thirties dude texted me asking if I would be in attendance; upon my confirmation he said something to the effect of "Wear something sexy. I know you're only 17, but we can go to the van and do other things." I was repulsed. Disgusted. Caught so off guard and left so angry I went out of my way that evening to dress more tomboyish-- it was cold anyway. I never contacted him that night-- only posing for a picture with him and the band after the show with the insistence of my friend-- besides, I didn't want to make an enemy, I was too soft back then for that. Shortly after I met up with my friend in Motionless and we went for Pizza with another friend. We sat side by side and spoke-- it all being fun until at one point he grabbed my thigh while saying I should gain weight. The notion irked me. Him touching my thigh made me uncomfortable and I nearly slapped him. But I didn't. I instead kept that moment in the back of my head and continued on.

By next Spring I felt like a shell of a person. By that time I had fully been immersed in the more sexual goth image-- it was what was in within the band's fans, and I fell for the trap. I shaved off my eyebrows, stuck on 3 pairs of false eyelashes, and began wearing garter-belts to school with 7 inch high heels and tiny dresses; how I was never reprimanded I'll never know. I was taking photos of myself just to secure a social media following as it seemed like my friendships depended on it. Beyond the guy in the band, the people I met through him for the most part seemed as though they only wanted to be friends with me for the sake of a bunch of pretty girls all being friends and all being popular through each other-- to not keep up appearances would mean losing all of these fake friends. More notably though, by this time I had been groomed extensively by this guy to be a certain way. He would like certain photos if I showed a certain amount of skin, he'd text me asking about my day if my makeup had certain colours, but otherwise, he wouldn't talk to me. Desperate to maintain this "friendship" I produced more of what I knew would get him to talk to me-- I dressed the way he liked, and listened to what he approved of. This was by no means forced, but it was a subconscious manipulation that took me years to recognize. As someone who has always identified as Asexual, as someone who has never been overtly sexual, taking photos hinting at the fact was alienating and more so, I think my lack of sexuality fed into my naiveté as I couldn't recognize flirtatious or suggestive conversations for the life of me. But I was 17. I was 17 and the most I had ever done with anyone was make out with a girl while drunk. I was 17 and what I had done up to that point shouldn't even be an issue because the fact is that I was 17 and this man in his 20's was preying upon me.

It all came to a head in May. I was in the middle of preparing for the exams my whole High School career was building towards-- the legendary IB exams. The tests meant I could score college credit but more than anything their renowned difficulty would ensure a well-need confidence boost depending on my score. Somehow amongst all of this, and perhaps out of pity as I had spent the year working in the kitchen at Burger King, my mother agreed to drive me to PA the night before the biggest exam of the bunch so I could see MIW. I was wearing next to nothing but "It's just the fashion mom-- see all the people in line?" I was also meeting a friend of mine she had previously met, so she wasn't as on-edge. We met up and shortly gathered with him to get coffee-- all taking photos in the Starbucks with his arm around me. "Whatever, I hold hands with my friends-- this just means he thinks we're actually good friends." Before their set he and I sat on the bus trying to take the perfect picture together-- it all felt like two friends hanging out, though there were probably warning signs that went over my head. At this point in time, the previously mentioned twenty-something dude from Imperative Reaction/The Witch Was Right was now the drummer of MIW, and it didn't take long before I saw him. Soon, he asked with a smirk "Rae, you 18 yet?" He used to message me this all of the time. I rolled me eyes and cursed him under my breath. "How dare he, fucking pedo. At least my friend knew the line." After their set and long after the fans dispersed we went outside to try and find food-- ultimately resulting to ordering Dominos to the bench we were sitting on. I was tired. It was 11 and I had been studying for days and getting barely any sleep. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes as we waited for food-- I let my guard down and was comfortable. Here was a friend worth keeping and I had been so silly to question it. The pizza arrived and we went back to the dressing room to eat. While opening the box he mentioned that bus call was 12:30, so we had plenty of time to eat. I quickly ate my half and began to close my eyes again, just wanting to take a nap... when suddenly his chair was behind mine, and he was giving me a massage. "Oh... that's nice of him, I guess? He must know I'm stressed about exams" I rationalized, closing my eyes again. Then, an uncomfortable and slimy object entered my ear. "Is... is that his /tongue/?" What was unfolding took me a bit to process and I was frozen in shock. Just minutes ago we were eating pizza and now this person I saw as my friend, hell, an older brother figure was kissing on my tongue and neck?! At the time, him being in a committed relationship and doing this made me more angry than me being 17 or the betrayal of trust-- but I sat there shocked, eyes wide open and silent, feeling like a prisoner in my own body. I wondered if he would go further in trying to take advantage of me, if he would try and rape me. My eyes darted around the room trying to find a way out and noticed the time-- 12:30. I finally found my voice and mentioned the bus call. He walked me to the curb and kissed me on the cheek before leaving as I waited with a police officer for my car ride home. I spent the ride confused and still in shock of what happened-- in disbelief that any of it just occurred.

I spent months waiting for an apology that never came while still trying to figure out what happened. I went with a friend to a local festival they were playing at hoping for that apology but instead all I got was another "Rae, you 18 yet?" from Imperative dude, and suggestive texts that I tried to diffuse after I left. Up until rather recently, I used to be so preoccupied with hurting someone else's feelings-- especially if that person was a friend. I would make excuses for cruel behaviors and play the role of the meek "make-everyone-happy" girl. I thought my acts of silent defiance would send the message that I could never find the confidence to say, but they never did. It took going to college that fall and finally turning 18 to realize all that had happened and I allowed the trauma to set in. I finally realized that those compliments were flirts and the suggestions behind every interaction. Worse even, I began to blame myself as my meek nature opting to play along or diffuse the situation only encouraged these behaviors, while my appearance built out of a desperate need of a "friend's" attention out of fear that the friendship would crumble... well, it wasn't how I should have been at 17. Needless to say I stopped speaking to all of them, including the mutual friends I told my story to who continued to support him, but it took years for me to feel real again. I had to delete all old social media, some of which dated back to '08, just to regain my sense of privacy; and I did all in my power to make sure all of his fans never felt the need to keep up with me again.

5 years later, I still feel the repercussions of my youth. I'm cautious of all men to a fault-- too scared to go on a date and immediately stop talking to guys as soon as they begin flirting. I'm more skeptical of men in music, especially darker genres, and even the "good guys" I keep at an arm's length. What I really aimed however to get to with this account is just how fandom can warp perception. Even if your intentions are pure, all it takes is one person to abuse their position of power-- and it's something that happens far too often. Look to Brand New, William Control, Front Porch Step-- it shouldn't be the job of the fan, especially those who are underage, to recognize the intentions of an older guy in a band; they're too blinded. Musicians need to step up and recognize that the age of the groupie is over and even if a girl is throwing herself at you, it's no excuse to play into it. Further, we must stop normalizing the underage fan fantasy and we need people to be held accountable for grooming young fans. We ESPECIALLY need to hold the bandmates accountable-- by covering it up and not calling out someone in the group, they're just as responsible. Anyway, this has been a ramble but to anyone young reading this-- be safe out there. Not everyone has the same intentions you do, and they'll be quick to take advantage of your naiveté.

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whatisgendernoisgender · 7 years

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