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.  

In Praise of THE INTERNET.

So, I'm writing this blog, right?  And then you're going to read it (all three of you) via the magic of THE INTERNET.  That fact is something I take for granted every single day, when actually, it's pretty bloody mindblowing.  The fact that I can waffle on for a few thousand words about whatever random nonsense is occupying the space where my brain should be and then post it online, to be shared with other living, breathing humans all over the freaking world is absolutely incredible.

I grew up in a largely Internet-less era.  I don't remember even having any kind of access to it at home until maybe 1997, when I was 14 going on 15 and was super-astounded by the ease at which perverts could ask me for my age, sex and location (not creepy at all, guys).  Back then, it was this shiny new thing that was supposed to be used primarily for communication and homework.

Nowadays, we use the Internet for literally everything.  If we have a nagging question we don't know the answer to, we Google it.  If we need to buy something but can't be bothered to leave the house, we order it online.  Everything you can imagine, from listening to music and watching films, to actually meeting the love of your life can be done via the Internet.  That's utterly insane. 

Much can be said about the darker side of the World Wide Web.  Online bullying is a very real problem and some people hide behind their screens, flinging metaphorical shit at anyone unfortunate enough to cross their virtual path (a subject dealt with rather magnificently by the rather magnificent Dan Howell in his The Internet Is Mean video).  I've experienced it myself, so I definitely know what it's like to receive death threats, rape threats and general abuse from total strangers based on nothing but my opinion of a book or film (same title for both - guess which?!).  You can't talk about the Internet without discussing the negative side, so let's get that out of the way...

Okay, so I've met horrible people, online.  I won't even go into it too much, because hot damn it's a mess.  I can definitely understand why some people get taken in by a convincing manipulator, making out that they're someone they're not.  It may never have happened to me in a romantic sense (although I've experienced the weirder side of the Internet that way, too - and blogged about it, naturally), but in the "hey, we should be BFFs" sense, for sure.

The Internet is creepy at times, the sheer variety of porn available is ridiculous and unfortunately, the freedom to speak freely can be enjoyed by people whose opinions are more gross than that moment when your friend pronounces a "p" really violently and spits on your face.

I like big buts and I cannot lie.

But for all the weirdness and creepiness of the web, I still think it's quite frankly one of the greatest and most life-changing inventions ever.  I mean, up there with penicillin and all that shizzle.

Think about it.  If the Internet didn't exist, I would be sitting here, with all these ridiculous thoughts in my head and nowhere to express them in a whimsical fashion.  There would be no YouTube, which would mean I would not be having the hysterically funny conversation I am currently having with my best friend, regarding our favourite YouTubers, Dan and Phil.

Even more importantly, I wouldn't have a best friend in the first place.  See, my best friend was someone I met online.  I discovered that she was local (well, an hour away) and set about being hilarious and brilliant on an Internet forum, so that she'd liked me.  One wedding invite later and a friendship was born.  I had previous, to be fair; my much-loved friend Kirstie was also "found" on an Internet forum and I did the exact same thing with her.  Basically, if I'm extra nice to you online, I am plotting on adding you to my friend-collection.  I'm not a stalker, I promise.

But this IS the face I pull when I find a new friend, online.

The thing is, for all the bad, creepy stuff going on, the Internet can be a powerful force for good.  Communities like YouTube or Blogger give people a platform from which to air their views and the freedom to be themselves, or simply provide somewhere for them to discover people who are likeminded, if they're not quite up to producing their own content, yet.  Places like Twitter allow us to connect with all kinds of different people.  Time and time again, the Internet has proven that when you think you're alone in your thinking, or even alone full stop, there will always be someone to prove you wrong and take your corner.  For every troll, there's a passionate activist.  For every bully, there's someone who's part of the same fandom as you and wants to squee obsessively over the shape of your favourite pop star's arm.  And for every creepy Internet weirdo, there's... Well, another one, because they're literally everywhere.  But don't let that put you off.

Imagine a world without the Internet.  A world in which you had to rely on snail mail if you wanted to write to a friend overseas.  A world in which you couldn't just cheat and ask Google the answer to literally any question.  A world in which cats looked grumpy and all you could do is take a photo and show it to your friends in the hope that they laughed.  

A world in which you couldn't make gifs like this:

I regret NOTHING.

And now, having written this little love letter to the World Wide Web, I'm going to post in on the... Well, you know.  Who knows, maybe reading it will make someone chuckle.  That's the power of the Internet.  You put something out there and it can create a ripple that spreads further than you ever imagine.  And that of course has the capacity to be either a good or a bad thing.

So, make your ripples online positive ones.  Mmm, positive ripples.  Someone's going to turn that into a euphemism.  I mean, this is the Internet.

Why "The World's Ugliest Woman" Should Be A Lesson To Us All.

Screenshot of the original BBC blog.

Last weekend, my dad sent me a BBC blog he knew I would be interested in.  The blog, which formed part of the BBC's "Ouch" - an exploration of the disability world -  was about a lady called Lizzie Velasquez.  Lizzie was was born with two very rare medical conditions - Marfan and lipodystrophy.  It means that no matter how much she eats, she is unable to gain weight and at the age of 26, she weighs just 60lbs (just under 4st 3lbs).  She is visually impaired and has suffered a number of health complaints as a result of her condition.

At the age of seventeen, Lizzie stumbled upon a video on YouTube, purporting to show "The World's Ugliest Woman."  She was horrified to discover that the unwitting subject of the eight-second video was her.  The clip had over 4 million views and the comments were, frankly, despicable.

They say "never read the comments" and with good reason.  But, having found herself the subject of such a cruel piece of public shaming, Lizzie read every single one - and there were thousands.  They ranged from people telling her to kill herself, to others wondering why her parents would possibly have kept her.

Reading Lizzie's story was profoundly moving but, sadly, not shocking.  The words that kept her awake at night are words I am all too familiar with, myself.  

"Go home and kill yourself, you ugly freak."

"You're so disgusting, nobody is ever going to love you."

"Your parents must be ashamed to have created something so hideous."

These were words I heard on a daily basis.  Spoken to my face, by the same people who spent their daily bus journeys to and from school, playing games where they'd spit in my general direction and see who got the most phlegm on me.  People who'd sit at the back of the bus and scream vile insults at me, in the hope that I'd turn around, so they could see whether I was crying or not.  The ringleader - Stephen - would come and sit next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and speaking his cruel words in a soft, gentle tone, which somehow made them all the more damaging.  "I'm saying this to be kind.  Killing yourself is the kindest thing to do.  Your parents won't have the shame of such an ugly freak of a daughter, then.  And you'll be free from all of this.  Because it'll only ever get worse.  Nobody's going to stop, because you'll always be disgusting."

And that was how I ended up with a school tie around my neck, attached to the shower rail, hoping that when I stepped off the edge of the bath, everything would go black and it would all be over. 

I was thirteen years old.

It didn't all go black.  It wasn't all over.  And at the time, I was mortified.  I took a handful of Paracetamol tablets - probably no more than four or five - before I realised that I didn't want to die.  I just wanted it to stop.  I wanted to be referred to by my name, rather than a succession of insults.  I wanted to be seen and treated as a person, rather than as an "it."

"It's crying!  Look at it!"

Lizzie Velasquez says that her parents love and support enabled her to think positively and hold her head up high, despite the daily bullying she endured at school.  Incredibly, she even says that she "happily forgives" the person who made the YouTube video, which makes her a better, stronger woman than I could ever hope to be, because I don't forgive Stephen and his friends.  I can't.  They killed the confident, happy, bright young girl I was and replaced her with a woman who still - nearly twenty years later - looks in the mirror and all too often sees someone ugly.  Lizzie has an incredible strength that I can only dream of possessing.

Lizzie decided to channel her efforts into making a difference.  She set up her own YouTube channel, to explain who the person behind the "World's Ugliest Woman" title really was.  She began trying to teach others to be confident in who they are, regardless of what they look like.  Her channel makes for some truly inspirational viewing and I recommend it to you all.  She is, along with the mother of Megan Meier (a teenager who took her own life after enduring bullying online) campaigning for an Anti-Bullying Bill, which would allow all schools funds with which to form anti-bullying programmes and which would mean that all instances of bullying would have to be officially recorded.  Her life and work were recently celebrated in a documentary.

Think about that, for a moment.  A woman who could have been broken by society's obsession with looking a certain way, has instead channelled her energy into helping others.  That makes her more beautiful than any bully could ever hope to be.  It's a cliche, but it's true to say that real beauty shines from within.  It's not just skin-deep.  Lizzie Velasquez, with her tireless efforts to support those experiencing bullying, is an absolutely beautiful person.

We could all learn a lot from her.  We should all be standing up to bullying, because picking on others because they don't look the way we want them to is an appalling way to behave.  Picking on someone for any reason is deplorable.  We don't have the right to break down a person's spirit.  We don't have the right to enforce our values on anyone else.  Everyone has the right to live their lives happily and freely, without being harassed, spat on or called names.

I am incredibly grateful that the Internet didn't exist when I was being bullied.  It meant that I was able to go home to a safe place, where I could try to push the cruel words out of my head.  Had YouTube or Facebook, Twitter etc existed back then, I'm certain I'd have been found online and my safe place would have been destroyed.

Now, it does exist.  And whilst the Internet is an amazing place, it also means that the bullying that many young people encounter is no longer restricted to school buses or classrooms.  It's in their homes.  It's on their phones.  It's inescapable.

But whilst that makes bullying harder to tackle, it shouldn't mean that we don't try.  We need to speak with one voice and say that enough is enough.  That we don't stand for people being bullied and put down, for any reason.  That we want to encourage young people to be accepting of others, regardless of whether or not they meet societal standards of so-called "beauty."  We need to be teaching those young people to love themselves just the way they are, regardless of the ridiculous (usually photoshopped) images of "perfection" the media bombards them with.

Or, to put it another way: We all need to learn to be a little more like Lizzie.