Exposing My Parasocial Relationships
we all have em
A parasocial relationship is having a particular affinity for a celebrity or fictional character that satisfies the part of your brain that craves friendship, except the other person doesn’t know you exist (or doesn’t, themself, exist). Here’s a primer:
A parasocial relationship can be harmful to others if you go stalker-level delusional. A parasocial relationship can be harmful to yourself if you fixate on a figure to the detriment of your IRL friendships (spending money on a trip to Harry Potter World instead of someone’s wedding, for instance), but on the other hand, you might meet cool people through fandoms, so there are pros and cons. But most parasocial relationships are totally harmless as long as you know that’s what they are.
Thankfully, I do not suffer from delusion or obsession. The photos on my walls are of me and my friends, not characters or celebrities. But to keep myself honest, sane and grounded, I think I should fess up to the parasocial relationships I’m currently cultivating. And also I guess kind of invite you to join me in them.
Sarah from @TaylorSwiftStyled
My relationship to Taylor is simply one of artist and fan. But Sarah Kucharski, who runs an Instagram account that identifies where Swift gets all her clothes (yeah I follow it what do you people want from me), notes when Taylor has worn them before and what they might signal, occasionally uses the account to post updates about her own life, both because people are interested and because it helps Instagram not flag her for “impersonating” Taylor.
I’m rooting for Sarah so hard. She’s recently engaged, went to the Eras tour, is writing a book, generally thriving while providing a very helpful service to a fanbase that’s known for being…uh…intense. She handles it all so gracefully and whenever she posts about what’s going on with her, I find myself commenting like I know her, even though I very much don’t.
Oatmeal Fiona
I don’t think about this girl much any more but there was a point when my investment in Fiona Hollings’ wellbeing was…borderline.
Here’s what happened: during that squishy post-pandemic time when we were all still on our phones waaaaaay too much (Fall 2021, Delta variant vibes), I came across the TikTok account of a girl who was suffering from severe anorexia, and was hospitalized with a feeding tube in her nose. This was not her first hospitalization and she’d previously gone through periods of recovery; she knew the drill. Every day at the hospital, she had to eat her oatmeal. And to keep herself accountable, she would post on TikTok that she had eaten her oatmeal. For her, eating anything was a very, very difficult task, emotionally and mentally, and I sort of felt like giving her a follow and a Like or maybe a “yay!” comment would encourage her to keep it up.
And then it was like…well, I’m involved now. Every day I had to check that Fiona had eaten her oatmeal. And give her a like and a comment. I’ve had too many friends lose too many years to eating disorders to not do everything in my power to support this girl’s healing journey. But did I mention Fiona lives in England and her parents are helping her and WE HAVE NEVER MET?
For a while, things were looking up. She got out of the hospital, got up out of her wheelchair and got her feeding tube out, received an autism diagnosis that helped her immensely, finished her degree and ate whole meals. I was incredibly proud of her and only checking her page ~ once a month.
BUT THEN HER DOG DIED AND SHE RELAPSED. So I’m concerned, but she doesn’t seem to be hospitalized, so that’s good? I’m fully like, praying for this girl.
(if you think this is an awful and flippant way to talk about the intimate details of a stranger’s life, consider that this is all stuff she puts online for the world to see!!! Anyway, go Fiona!!)
UnCarley and Ashley Norton
These are two YouTube girls who make videos I like.
They’re both a little younger than I am and will occasionally make an offhand remark like “so and so said my voice is annoying” and before giving it a second thought I’m in the comments section posting “Omg your voice is NOT annoying thats MISOGYNY” because all women 5-10 years younger than I am are legally my little sisters (11+ years younger are my daughters).
Carley lives in Canada but is starting to pursue comedy so I might run into her one day and I’ll try so hard not to be weird, I promise.
The hosts of “How Did This Get Made”
I listen to two movie podcasts: “Blank Check” and “How Did This Get Made?” I don’t have a parasocial with the hosts of “Blank Check,” I have actual friendships with them. “Blank Check” makes you smarter. They talk about good movies.
HDTGM does not make you smarter, but it makes you laugh. They talk about bad movies. It makes me happy when I am in a mood to an extent that is…something I will bring up in therapy.
Paul Scheer is the entry point: he introduces guests, keeps the various segments on track and does all of the ad reads. He’s the friend who brought you to the party, or maybe the one hosting it. And then you get to meet his wife June Diane Raphael with her dry wit and absolute certainty on all topics, and then Jason Mantzoukas, a goof and secret genius I really, really need to get my number to.
Paul brings in a bit of background information and June and Jason are better-versed in bad movies than the average person, but generally they crack the kind of jokes and make the kind of comments you or I would make after watching a bad movie. I can’t say that it’s the single best podcast I’ve ever listened to (though it’s up there in terms of sheer entertainment), but it’s definitely the one I’ve tricked myself into thinking I’m part of.
I am not.
Their live shows, especially, make you feel like you’re there. The hosts make fun of the guests and the guests love it. I, too, could be one of the silent audience members watching the shenanigans unfold! I might as well be!
And also…like, listen, I love my friends, my dad, etc. I even like my co-workers. But other than my mom, there’s no one in my life I talk with every single day (I’m more of a texter). But I spend an hour or so every week hearing the voices of the HDTGM gang. Just in terms of conversation, even though it’s one-sided…they’re significant to me
And God as my witness, I will get my number to Jason Mantzoukas. If any of you can help me with this project, let me know.
My cat Matilda
I looooooooove her and she could not pick me out of a lineup.
The only person she has ever truly loved is my old roommate Chloe. I couldn’t even be mad. They were soulmates.
…and Chandler Bing
Twist! Sad! Sorry! Matthew Perry tragically died a month ago and it’s taken me this long to write about it because I don’t feel the need to chime in the instant a celebrity dies, because that’s weird.
I didn’t know Matthew Perry. I admired his attempts to help himself and others. He seemed like a cool guy. I liked him on The West Wing and Studio 60, the latter of which was sadly a grating show, but in terms of former Friends cast members whose lives I was invested in, he didn’t rank any higher than Lisa Kudrow or Hank Azaria (I know that’s not his main thing, but to me, Hank Azaria will always be Phoebe’s boyfriend who moved to Minsk, and Minsk will always be the place Phoebe’s boyfriend moved to, and that’s just my brain).
But Chandler. I knew Chandler. My mom and I used to joke I was going to marry Chandler. My parents were divorced, but it didn’t matter, because I saw true love watching Monica and Chandler. Most importantly, I learned how to be funny from Chandler.
The summer before fifth* grade I binge-watched however many seasons of Friends there were on DVD at that point, and I studied Chandler. I was always a funny kid, but I wanted to be consistent. A maker of jokes, not just a finder of joke opportunities. Both of my parents are funny, and I had funny friends (actual friends, not NBC Friends). At least, they made me laugh more than the other girls in school did. But I didn’t know anyone who was a comedian or was well and truly hilarious without coming across like a clown. The only person I knew for whom “comedic” was a defining character trait was Chandler Bing. All of the characters on Friends are funny, but Chandler was the one who was funny within the world of the show. He was directly acknowledged as a jokester, a quipper, The Sarcastic One. Like Jim on The Office, he did things to make the people around him laugh. And I wanted to understand how he did it.
From him I learned the art of the callback. The trick of saying the same thing as a response to multiple questions. That the key to making a joke at someone’s expense is to laugh while you’re saying it so everyone knows it’s a joke. That you’d better be confident in your delivery of self-deprecation, lest people think you’re phishing for compliments. A well-timed cultural reference makes people think you’re clever, even if it’s not a joke. If you need to commit physically, do it.
Cut to the first day of Fifth Grade. In advance of our unit on the Middle Ages, our summer project for History was to construct a pyramid-shaped display representing feudal hierarchy. You could use, for instance, candies, putting a few of the best candies at the top to represent royalty, and raisins at the bottom to represent serfs and peasants. I used the characters from SpongeBob in a vain attempt to seem…with it? Like I hadn’t been watching Friends all summer? Which the other parents at my school found kinda inappropriate for a ten year old?
Lea, one of the more popular girls in the class, presented her hierarchy made of crayons. An untouched metallic crayon at the top, stubby worn-down bits of crayon at the bottom, all glued to a piece of poster board. As she talked, the small, nubby pieces kept falling off, one at a time. It was funny. Lea would smile and pick it up, unfazed, and the “plop” sound of crayon hitting carpet got a chuckle out of all of us. By the third or fourth time it happened, I smelled…not blood in the water, but something on the wind. This set-up needed a punchline.
“They’re dying of the Black Plague!” I said. It got a laugh.
Not a big one. It’s not hilarious. Kind of a show-off-y comment, actually, letting everyone know I knew what the Black Plague was even before we started our Medieval unit. But perhaps because of this smart-ass-ness, my teacher let it slide.
My teacher let it slide.
I had called out. Interrupted another student presenting her homework. Spoken without raising my hand. And I got away with it, because it was funny.
By the end of middle school, my rep was solidified. We gave each other goofy superlatives in seventh grade; I got “best witticisms.” Then in eighth grade, “Most Likely To Write For The Onion” (which I’ve since done). I was the funny one.
So, thanks, Matt.
Does this newsletter constitute a parasocial relationship between you and me? ;)
Lizzie
PS- I contributed to this fun round-up of Gossip Girl Moments™ if you’re not ready to let go of the Thanksgiving DrAmA
*Now that I think about it…it might have been sixth grade.