Making the Most of Fandom, Part 2

One of the first things people assume about me when they know me in real life is that I'm an introvert. They assume this because I'm shy, and because I tend to quietly observe social situations rather than jumping in and taking part. But the thing about those categories is that they're about where you get your energy and where you want to be, not what actually happens. It's possible for an introvert to always be surrounded by people because their job requires it, or for an extrovert to always be alone because they happen to live away from others. I'm not quiet because I don't like being with people, I'm just waiting for permission to join. I wasn't well-liked as a child, and I learned that the best way to be sure I'm not annoying people and therefore could stay in a group was to be invisible.

Except in fiction. In my imagination, I didn't have to adapt for anyone, I knew the social rules I never learned in real life and I fit into any group, I was everybody's best friend. Yeah, I know it's terribly Mary Sue-ish, but it serves a purpose. I got to see myself as the type of person I wanted to become. If I'd been aware that that's what I was doing, it would give me a goal to work towards. Not that I would ever become that universally-loved fantasy, but that I could learn the important things, the social skills that would let me develop more fulfilling relationships in my real life.

This apparently matches up with research being done in this area, as it has been found that people who find social situations difficult because of low self-esteem tend to connect more with fictional characters (specifically soap opera characters, but I suspect that if the same study were carried out with sitcoms and dramas it would be the same) than with media personalities, whereas people who find it easy to communicate in social situations are more likely to connect with media personalities.(1) It's that face-to-face conversational style vs. the fly-on-the-wall fantasy world. My guess would be that people with high self-esteem have no problem imagining that the celebrities encountered on TV would like them in real life, whereas people like me tend to assume they wouldn't even notice us...at best.

The flaws there are obvious...but so are the potential benefits. On the one hand, it's a way to feel more accepted and less lonely. In the short term, that's a good thing and can help keep someone emotionally healthy. In the long term, it could help that person develop a healthier attitude and feel confident and well-liked enough to aid them in real life social interactions. And if they pay attention and good social behavior is modeled in the show, it can also be a sort of training exercise, providing scripts for social interactions likely to be encountered in the real world. On the other hand, someone could get a little too dependent on the easy, safe socialization found in fiction, where they're almost guaranteed not to be rejected. It can be an excuse, recognized or not, to avoid any real social interaction. Using it at its best probably requires being aware of one's flaws and difficulties in communication, and an active and intentional attempt to learn from the fictional friendships and carry that over into reality.

I have a friend who is a very creative person, an avid roleplayer and writer who will spend hours at a time detailing her stories, characters, and the worlds they live in. Recently, she talked about discussions she has with her characters. She actually said something along the lines of "I haven't told Bob about Jane, because Jane doesn't want him to know." I made up the names and I don't remember what Jane doesn't want Bob to know, but that's probably for the best because it's not my story to tell. The point is that the characters in her mind are real enough to have these conversations, real enough that what she tells them in her imagined conversations has the potential to change the direction of her story and take the plot out of her own hands.

This is fiction fully engaged, not only serving as a fantasy but allowing the characters to change us and bring those changes into the real world. I mentioned in the comments to the last entry that "fandom" might be the wrong word for the title of these posts, but I think it's right. Fandom is an important part of what I'm discussing, because it's the way we play with the fictional worlds. If we view it and it doesn't change us, if it's just something we do to pass the time, that's just fiction. If we let it change us and allow ourselves to change and add to it in ways that speak to us and help us to grow, that's fandom - an active engagement with the characters and worlds. And taking that outside ourselves, either by contributing to the social aspect of fandom and sharing what we've done with it or by making plans to change our real-world behavior, that's a way to really benefit from those fictional relationships.

An example I've talked about elsewhere is something I did totally by accident with Glee. The whole Karofsky storyline has strongly affected me from the beginning. Back when he was just a bully but an extreme one who just seemed to be sadistic and completely hateful for no reason, I would get really angry whenever he was shown, even though he's just a fictional character. That overdone, almost unbelievable depiction didn't feel completely extreme to me - it was the way I always imagined my own bullies, and seeing him on screen was like experiencing it all over again. As they started to humanize him and show what he was dealing with inside, my reaction changed. The episode where the football bullies temporarily have to team up with Glee club and perform the half time show in zombie make-up (awesome, btw) was probably the most I have ever been affected by that show. I loved seeing Karofsky open up and enjoy the dancing, I loved that he was so proud and happy about being told he was good at it. And then at the end of the episode, when he closes down again and it's as if the episode didn't happen, I was crushed. But I didn't hate him in the same way that I did earlier in the series, I just wanted to hug him, and I hoped that before he's gone from the series they would let him get some healing and be comfortable with himself.

And then it got weird. Once while I was praying and was in a very sleepy, half-aware state, I actually found myself praying that that would happen, and when I realized what I'd said I jolted awake. Wait, did I just pray for a fictional character? Yes, yes I did. But not really. Like I said, Karofsky was the distilled form of all the bullying I'd experienced in my life, all the pain I don't usually even realize I'm still no over. Learning to identify with him, coming to a point where I wanted to pray for him and cared more about his healing than my own anger, those things were instrumental in my own healing. Through this fictional character and the bond (even as more an enemy than a friend) that had been created out of watching the show, I was able to view my own experience in a different light and become a more compassionate person.

All of this is maybe deeper than one has to go, and there are several less mind-hacky ways to make the most of fandom. It's fun and can be a great way to relax, and it can be good for letting your imagination work a bit. Most of us don't get to be very creative in our jobs, I know I very rarely have time for it in school. But it's a good skill to have and can help people stand out when it comes time for promotions or just looking for new jobs or whatever. And it makes life a lot more interesting and fun. People don't have to get as involved in fandom as I do to have fun with it, and maybe most people don't. But if you're someone like me who's already analyzing everything in every show you watch or book you read, and you know that's going to take up a lot of mindspace for awhile...take advantage of it! Use it, and own it. Maybe the line between fantasy and reality isn't as absolute as we think.

Sources
1. Encyclopedia article