Why Do Trolls Not Understand That Celebs Are PEOPLE, Too?!

If there's one thing guaranteed to get my interest piqued, it's talk of my favourite ever girlband.  Yes, I'm talking about Ginger, Sporty, Baby, Scary and Posh: The Spice Girls.

A few days ago, I was scrolling through Facebook, paying very little attention to the photos of people's dinners/babies/cats/completed Christmas shopping lists and the "share this if your husband is the light of your life!!!1!!one!!" updates, when I stumbled upon a short video of Mel C (aka Sporty Spice) being interviewed by John Bishop for an upcoming TV show.  In the clip, Mel explained that whilst she had fond memories of being in the band, there was definitely bullying within the group and that she often found it very hard to deal with.  Mel was visibly upset as she spoke and, having experienced bullying myself, both at school and in the workplace, I felt for her.

And then I did a stupid thing.

I read the comments.

We all know that any online comment section is going to feature the worst of humanity, collected together like flies on sh!t.  I was expecting nasty comments about how Mel C was "the least talented one" (like hell is she; she's had a musical theatre career!) or jibes about her looks (beauty is subjective and whilst I've always thought Mel to be very pretty, I knew there would be cruel folk in the comments, making her out to be "Ugly Spice").  But beyond all that, I also expected that there would be people discussing what Mel was saying in the clip and perhaps expressing some sympathy.

And yet...

It just wasn't happening.  What was happening was some spectacular "othering" of this woman, based on nothing more than the fact that she's famous.

"I was bullied at work," one woman crowed, "and it really WAS Hell for ME, because I didn't have the luxury of being rich and famous, like Mel did!  She should try living MY life!"

"Still accepted all her royalty checks, didn't she?!" A man agreed.  "So it can't have been that bad!"

Hang on a second, let me get something straight...  Are we seriously implying that being "rich and famous" somehow buffers you from all of life's negative experiences?  And are we supposed to believe that just because a person gets on with their job, despite the problems they're having within it, the problems are somehow less real?!

The idea that being wealthy, successful and well known means that you can't possibly suffer the way that "normal" people do is utterly ludicrous.  Look at Robin Williams.  Chester Bennington.  L'Wren Scott.  These were all people who had achieved success in their careers, had reached a certain level of fame and were apparently much better off than most of us will ever be.  And yet all of them took their own lives.

Yes, fame can bring you money, meaning that you might not suffer the same financial concerns that plague many regular people.  And of course, there must be something nice about making headway in your chosen career to the point that you are known for it, potentially on a global stage.

But fame is not a bandage for all of life's wounds.  A break up, a personal illness or - yes - bullying, still affects a person, regardless of how many people know their names, or how many zeros are on the end of their pay check.

In fact, when life is giving you a rough time - when you are going through some kind of personal trauma - fame is almost certainly salt in that wound, rather than any kind of bandage.  

Just like both Mel C and the harsh woman in the comment section, I've been bullied in the workplace.  I know how much I hated having to smile and pretend I was fine just in front of the parents bringing their kids to the pre-school I was working at (and of course, the kids themselves).  If I'd had cameras thrust in my face and reporters desperately chasing me for a story, let alone fans - and detractors - talking at length about how easy my life must be, because I had wealth and fame, I can only begin to imagine how much worse the pain would have been.  

When people talk the way that woman in the comment section did, they don't make a clear, or in any way valid point about fame cushioning celebrities from life's problems.  What they do do, is make it clear they have a pretty massive chip on their shoulder about their own lack of wealth, success or notoriety.

"Well, I had it much worse, because I'm not rich and famous!" is not a meaningful or helpful contribution to a conversation.  It's the kind of thing a jealous kid says, because their next door neighbour's bike is newer and shinier than theirs.

Reading that woman's comment made me upset and angry that there are people in the world who genuinely seem to believe that when you accept fame and fortune into your life, you somehow also agree to lose your human capacity to feel, as well as your right to any kind of sympathy, should something bad happen.

Aaaaaand then I read the guy's comment.

I originally put it on a par with the woman's ridiculous bleating about celebs having it easier because they're celebs, but in the wake of the Harvey Weinstein allegations, it feels far worse.

The guy was, if you recall, suggesting that Mel shouldn't have carried on accepting her royalties, if she was that unhappy in her job.

I get that Mel C was in a place of luxury, in as much as she was probably earning a pretty decent amount and was therefore more likely to be able to quit her job and not have to worry about being broke as a result.  But she'd still receive royalties from the songs she recorded with the group, if she went the way of Geri and left.  So, was this guy suggesting she shouldn't accept those payments, either?  By way of somehow proving herself?!  And who the hell does she have to prove herself to, anyway?!

When I was being bullied in my old job, I still took my wages home when they were given to me.  The money was one of the things that kept my life stable; despite what was going on at work, my wages meant that I could afford to do things outside of my job, that took away some of the sadness I'd been feeling.  It helped me to keep living my life.  In the end, when I did hand in my notice, with no job in place to go to next, I ended up being doubly depressed, because by then, not only had I been bullied out of a job I once really loved, but I was also financially crippled as a result!

I mentioned Harvey Weinstein above, because the guy in the Mel C comment thread was echoing sentiments I've seen written by others (many men and some women) about the actresses who've made allegations against the producer.

"If they were willing to prostitute themselves for a job in the first place, they can't whine and stamp their little feet about it now," one guy ranted in - you guessed it - another Facebook comment thread.

I feel a little rage break is needed...

...And we're back.

Victim-blaming is of the most gross, hurtful and depressingly common reactions to stories of abuse or accusations of sexually predatory behaviour.  And it seems to me that yet again, the guys who are slinging these harsh words around are forgetting that they're talking about real people.   Sure, real people who work in Hollywood, live in mansions and are hugely famous, but still people.

If an actress comes across one of the most powerful and influential producers in Hollywood and is purposefully intimidated or sexually advanced upon by him, she will be aware of his standing.  Aware of his ability to make and break careers.  Aware of the power he wields, if it comes to her word against his.  Possibly, she may even be aware of previous allegations that hadn't yet seemed to have harmed his glittering career.  It's not necessarily a case of should she speak out, but does she feel able to?  Does she think she'll be believed?  Does she even think it'll change anything?

The circumstances may be different, but at heart, Weinstein preying on actresses as he's alleged to have done, is not so far away from the company boss, harassing the young intern, just starting out in her career.  It's still a person in a position of enormous power, behaving in a way that, as a result of his seniority, he believes can be shrugged off as "banter."  It's still a question of whether that intern feels she'll be belittled and laughed at if she speaks out.  "Oh, take no notice, Geoff's just got a bit of an eye for the ladies."

The fear, shame, embarrassment and anger felt by that young intern are no different to the emotions an actress might feel when groped and harassed by a powerful, famous producer or director.  And it seems that Hollywood has that same "office mentality" of turning a blind eye and tutting "well, you know what he's like..."

I'm tired of reading these kinds of comments every time a famous person speaks out about a personal problem.  I'm sick of people tutting and shaking their heads because the person talking just happens to be a celebrity, as though fame insulates them from harmful experiences.

Yes, being famous enough to have a fanbase must be wonderful.

Yes, having more money than you or I will ever probably have in our lives must mean financial aspects of life are a lot easier to handle.

But fame alone doesn't mean that a person no longer feels things.  It doesn't prevent them from experiencing heartache, pain or suffering.  Fame doesn't mean that a person can't be a victim of something or someone, and speaking out about bad experiences should be applauded, rather than mocked.  

We're all people and we all deserve to be listened to and believed, regardless of what job we do and how much cash is in our bank accounts.  

I'm Agnostic, But I Still Have Faith...

Faith Hill joke, because HAHAHAHA, hilarious.

So, picture the scene:  I'm sitting here, with an Oreo Easter egg by my side, which I'm preparing to stick my face into, when I stumble upon a series of comments on social media that caused me to have one of those "I AM GOING TO HAVE TO BLOG ABOUT THIS" moments.

It's Easter Sunday and, understandably, many people are talking about their Christian faith, today.  I completely respect that; it's an important day in the Christian calendar and everyone should have a space to discuss their religious beliefs - that's just a part of freedom of speech and it's vital we hold onto it.  

Anyway, I was all prepared to carry on scrolling, like a happy little (Easter) bunny, until I saw a comment that included the word "faithless"and it niggled at me like a stone in my shoe, just big enough to be uncomfortable.  This person was referring to non-religious people as being "faithless" (and also to religious people who choose to live by their own rules, rather than following God's, but that's a whole other blog post in itself...) and the use of that word annoyed me, even though I knew that they were specifically referring to a lack of religious faith, rather than a lack of faith in general.

"Faith" is a word that we often apply to religion, with good reason.  But it has more than one meaning.  I am agnostic - I don't know whether God exists, or whether there's an afterlife or anything like that, but I'm not prepared to entirely rule it out, by referring to myself as an atheist.  I believe that a guy named Jesus existed and I think he probably tried to teach some good stuff in his time, but whether or not he was the son of God is another matter entirely.  So, I call myself an agnostic.  What I do not call myself, is "faithless."

"Faithless" joke, because HAHAHAHA, hilarious.

I may not have faith in the classic, religious sense.  But I have faith, all the same.  To me, "faith" means putting your trust in something and that doesn't have to refer to a Deity of any kind.  I know other agnostics - and atheists - who are equally strong in their alternative faiths.  I also know a lot of wonderful religious folk who would never dream of assuming that just because people like me don't necessarily have faith in God,that it therefore means that we don't have faith in anything.

But that one comment caused an uncomfortable itch that just had to be scratched.  Because the sad fact is that there will always be some people who believe that religious faith is the only kind worth having, just as there will always be atheists who believe that religious faith is utter lunacy and who treat believers with contempt as a result.  Neither is helpful.  People are free to believe or disbelieve as they choose.  I choose to sit on the religious fence (again, I could write a whole other blog about what my beliefs are...), but that doesn't mean that my life is devoid of any faith, whatsoever.

So, in the spirit of today - a day in which light triumphs over darkness and hope reigns supreme, let me answer that stranger who referred to non-religious people as "faithless," by telling you some of the things I have faith in...

I have faith in love - in all its many forms.

STILL SLAYS ME LIKE BUFFY EVERY TIME.

Yes, I'm single.  Yes, my last relationship was abusive.  But yes, I believe in love and I always will.  Love has an incredible power to heal and strengthen us.  Just a hug from a friend can make the world a brighter place.  An act of kindness by a family member can remind us that we're not going through life completely alone.  Love can make us bolder, braver and better as people, when we choose to show it, rather than keeping it to ourselves.  Love, in a world where people hurt one another, where wars rage and where sometimes hope seems in low supply, can be a beacon of light, bursting through the dark.  I believe in giving love to those around us, accepting the love that exists in our lives - in whatever form it takes - and cherishing that love above all else.  My faith in love will never die, because love itself never does.  Relationships may fail and friendships may falter, but love on a grander scale will exist eternally.  In the words of Marvin Gaye,"only love can conquer hate."  It's still true.  It will always be true.

I have faith in people.

They say that people will always let you down, but people are capable of greatness.  For every time a person commits an atrocity, you need only look to the other, better people, reacting to that atrocity by seeing what they can do to help.  There are good people in this world; people who dedicate their lives to making things better for others.  People who campaign, people who stand up against hate and people who make the world a brighter place, just by being themselves.  Despite the many times I say "ugh, I hate people" (and sadly, it is a common phrase...), I still believe in humanity.  I believe that together, people are stronger and that when we join forces to create a community against evil, we prove that humanity is worth keeping faith in.

On a smaller, more personal scale, I believe in the people around me.  I mentioned before that I have faith in love and that's in no small part due to the people who show me it, every single day.  My family and my closest friends will always help me when I need it.  They will always encourage me and want to share in the good things that happen in my life, as well as support me through the bad times.  I mean, really, they actually know me, warts and all, and they still want me around - if that's not worth having faith in, nothing is.

I have faith in the people I choose to keep closest to me, because they've proved themselves time and again to be worth that faith.  I just hope they have as much faith in me and that I always prove that faith justified.

I have faith in following a dream.

You have to have faith in your dreams and aspirations.  If you don't, how are you supposed to chase them?  That was kind of an unintentional poem - feel free to put it on a t-shirt.

I believe in my biggest goals in life.  I have faith - even when it's hard to keep - that pursuing those goals will one day lead to success.  When I check my blog hits and see that a post I spent hours on has only been read 50 times, sure I get a bit downhearted.  But when I check another one and see that it's been read 5000 times, I remind myself that I'm doing my best and I haven't given up, despite the knock-backs.  And that knowledge is enough to make me stronger.

Reaching for our goals and chasing our dreams is the only way to move forwards with positivity.  If you want something badly enough, you have to go for it.  Sure, some of my dreams are downright silly, but what is life without those silly dreams?  And hey, Phil Lester tweeted me the other day.  DREAMS CAN COME TRUE, GUYS.  

Although that's just step one in my many dreams, regarding him...

And finally... I have faith in ME.

For example, I had faith that I could eat this massive breakfast.  

AND I DID.

I am a survivor.  I've been hurt, cheated on, lied to and abused.  But I'm here to talk to you about it and to tell you it's possible to go through all of those things and not be broken forever by them.  I'm stronger than I ever knew and I've never lost my belief in love, or my faith in people, despite the stuff I've been through.  I know who I am, what I believe in and what I want out of life.  I try to be a good friend and a kind person.  I try to think about how my actions affect other people.  I may not be perfect - far from it - but I'm trying.  

Having faith in yourself is possibly the most important kind of faith.  After all, you're going to live with yourself your whole life, so you may as well believe in the person you are.  Trust your choices, listen to your heart and your head and be honest enough to admit when you've made a mistake, so that you can learn from it.  

Have faith in who you are and try to make that person someone good.  Not because a God might be watching, or because a religious text tells you to.  But for yourself and everyone around you.

When you really think about it, there are plenty of things to have faith in.  Plenty of things to hold onto, when we need something we can truly believe in.  Whatever you choose to have faith in - be it religion, or something else entirely - is equally valid.  A person's faith is just that - personal.  

I have faith, this Easter Sunday.  I hope - no matter what form it takes - that you do, too.

Taking Time To Be Kind

I don't always pose with celebrities, but when I do, I'm dressed like a Wally.

It doesn't take much to be kind.  Sometimes, the smallest actions carry the greatest weight.  After all, we never know how precious a seemingly trivial act on our part may be to the person on the receiving end.  Similarly, a thoughtless word or a casual snub might seem incredibly trivial, but can easily end up ruining someone's day.

I've been thinking a lot about the ripple effect that our actions have, in the last couple of days.  Mainly because within 24 hours of each other, I experienced two very small incidents that had a very big effect on me.  The first was hugely positive.  The second... Less so.

On Saturday night, I was away at Butlin's, hanging out in Centre Stage, having just seen the 90s boyband, 911.  Those who know me "in real life," know that I was 911 obsessed in my teens, to the point that friends addressed birthday and Christmas cards to "the future Mrs Lee Brennan."  So, as you can imagine, I was quite excited to see the band again (having not seen them since the 2013 Big Reunion tour).  After the show was over, my friend and I dashed over to the venue's VIP area.  My mate Jess had access to the area via a wristband and I wanted to get her attention to ask what she'd thought of the show.  You had to pay extra for VIP wristbands and I wasn't too fussed about not having one, but when Jess told me that 911 were headed for the VIP bar, I asked her if she could cheekily send Lee over, so I could say a quick hello.  Whilst I waited for the band to appear, I stood around, leaning against the railing that led into the VIP area, occasionally waving to Jess, who was standing on the other side.  After a few minutes, a guy came wandering out of the VIP area and smiled at me as he walked past.  I smiled back and thought nothing more of it.  A moment later, he walked around the railings to where I was standing, placed something on the narrow bar that ran along them and then promptly disappeared.  At first, I thought he'd dumped some rubbish in front of me and I was actually slightly annoyed.  But then my friend Lizzie picked the "rubbish" up and realised it was actually a pair of VIP wristbands.  I glanced around for the guy, so I could thank him, but he had already gone from sight.  I had to make a snap decision; rush around the venue (or even outside the venue) searching for him so I could thank him, or just put the wristband on and rush into the VIP area...

I did scan the area around the bar and the entrance, but after not spotting the guy in question, I figured: "Well, he obviously wanted me to use these wristbands..." and off Lizzie and I went.

And here's where we get to that "ripple effect" that I mentioned, earlier.  Because that stranger's small but kind action, in casually leaving those wristbands for us, led to bigger and better things as the night went on.

I got to meet Lee Brennan - the object of my teen affections - as well as another member of the band, Jimmy Constable.  I had photos with them, chatted a little bit and generally felt fourteen again for a little while (pretty impressive, seeing as I'd turned 33 the day before...).

I could spend some time with Jess, actually chatting and hanging out properly, rather than standing on opposite sides of a walkway, waving from a distance.

I got to spend time catching up with a friend I'd not had a chance to chat properly to in ages.

I met new people and had space to dance somewhere other than a massively crowded dance floor.

I even had a fleetingly brief but lovely moment with someone I've nursed a crush on for the last six months, that, because I was a bit tipsy, caused me to make the face below:

Don't worry, I know I'm destined to be the eternally single, unfanciable member of my friendship group.  Just let me have my moment...

...Okay, done now.

As I sat with Lizzie, at 5:30am, eating chocolate cake and dissecting the night's events, the one thing we said over and over was: "Wow, we owe that random stranger one heck of a thank you."  Because we definitely had a more memorable, better night thanks to his small act of kindness, than we would have had without it.  One little action had created ripples of awesomeness.  

But the opposite is definitely true, too.  One small act of unkindness can make ripples that stretch just as far.

Despite having only had two and a half hours of sleep and in spite of a pounding in my temples, I woke up on Sunday morning, feeling perfectly content and looking forward to the day ahead.  Sadly, the feeling didn't last.

I have a recurring stomach problem (doctors are still in the process of trying to diagnose what it actually is), which causes crippling pains, nausea and breathlessness.  Sure enough, by Sunday afternoon, I was experiencing an attack of this as-yet-undiagnosed condition and I felt horrendous.  I tried everything I could think of: Drinking milk to calm my tummy, having a nap, making a hot water bottle, taking indigestion tablets and painkillers... You name it, I did it.  None of it worked.

So, there I was, on my last night of a holiday, with a friend who was perfectly fit and healthy and wanted a fun night out, whilst all I wanted to do was curl up in bed and try to sleep away the pain.  I didn't think it was fair to do that to Lizzie, so I put on a dress, did my make up and hobbled off to Centre Stage.

We picked a comfy sofa in the VIP area (bonus of having the wristband for sure) and I curled up there, instead.  Lizzie and I chatted, Jess joined us and whilst we were definitely having a quieter night, we were still managing to enjoy ourselves for the most part, despite the fact that I was physically incapable of dancing and very much not myself.

After a couple of hours, a guy approached us.  He marched straight over to where we were sitting and loudly declared: "You look fucking miserable."

His loudness and the hostile manner in which he came over to accost me for my apparently off-putting demeanour made me feel incredibly self-conscious.  I told him I felt unwell, but wanted to come out, seeing as it was our last night.  I also made a point of saying he can't have been paying much attention to my "misery," or he'd have actually noticed me laughing and chatting with my friends.  Besides which, what did it matter to him, whether I was enjoying myself or not?  I wasn't causing him any problems by sitting quietly and keeping myself to myself.  I would normally have brushed it off and ignored it, but the guy insisted on taking a seat next to Lizzie and proceeded to continue making judgemental comments about our appearances and demeanour.  Considering I was already feeling ill, his actions were incredibly unwelcome and only served to make me feel as though everyone around me was watching me and judging me, too.  I wanted to go back to our room and hide under the covers.

Now, almost 48 hours later, I'm just as certain that that man had no idea how offensive he was being as I am that the guy who gave me the wristbands had no idea how much he'd improved my night out in the process of doing so.  But the fact remains; one person's casual act did improve a situation, whereas the other person's actions made a situation much worse.

We come into contact with so many people in our daily lives and we can never know all of their stories.  We don't know what has recently happened to them to make them feel happy or sad.  We don't know what problems they might be dealing with, or why they look or behave the way they do.  But our actions - our words, gestures and behaviour - can still influence those people.  We can make or break an hour for them, or even a full day, just with the split-second choices we make when encountering someone.

Life is busy, I get that.  We all have our own lives to live and our own issues to handle.  It's very easy to get wrapped up in ourselves and to not give much of a second thought to the way we behave towards people we're almost certain never to see again.  But just as we have our own lives, our own worries, hopes and feelings, so does everyone else we come into contact with, however briefly.  We can choose to be the person who carries out a small gesture of kindness, or we can choose to be the person who speaks without thinking, or acts without consideration.

Sometimes, it only takes a few seconds to be the kinder person.  The one who holds a door open for the person carrying heavy bags.  The one who simply asks if someone else is okay.  It might seem like absolutely nothing to us at the time, but to the person on the receiving end of a kind gesture - however small - it will inevitably mean much more.

So, my mission - both for myself and for my readers - is to take more time to be kind.  Be the one who stops and chats to an old acquaintance properly, rather than just waving in the street and then rushing to get on with your day.  Extend the hand of friendship to people you meet and allow others to do the same to you.  Consider what you can do to put a smile on the face of another person, rather than becoming responsible for their frown.  

We all lead busy lives.  But we can all find some time to be kind.