I Didn’t Choose the Fangirl Life — It Chose Me

Let’s be clear: fangirling (or fanboying, or fan-anything-ing) is not a phase. It’s a lifestyle. It’s a personality trait. It’s the reason I haven’t deleted my high school Tumblr. It’s why my camera roll is 80% blurry screenshots of one specific person blinking in different ways.
And it’s beautiful.

In a world that’s increasingly cynical, being a fan is pure, uncool joy. I care — loudly, passionately, and sometimes with glitter (yes, glitter because what will this world come to if we don’t have glitter?).

Let’s talk about why this obsession is actually good for me/you/us, and yes the deepest parts of your soul — and, very importantly, your mental health.

Forget the stereotypes. Fangirling is not just screaming at concerts or crying when a fictional character dies (although, yes — those too - and allow yourself to go into the ugly cry, trust me, it’s good for you). It's an emotional connection to something that lights you up. It could be a pop star, a superhero, a drag queen, an athlete, or a K-pop group that doesn’t know you exist — but somehow saved your life anyway.

When you're deeply into something, your brain floods with dopamine (that wonderful thing known as the pleasure chemical). It's the same hit you get from love. So yes, you are basically in a committed relationship with [insert artist here] — and your brain agrees.

Research even shows that being part of a fan community can reduce loneliness, build social bonds, and give people a sense of identity and belonging. That means those fan group chats? Actually very therapeutic (see it as a therapist’s couch in the palm of your hand).

Let’s break down the universal stages of fandom:

Sound familiar?

1. A new album drops. You:

A) Listen once and carry on

B) Listen 12 times, post your top 3 songs, laugh, cry, and everything in between

C) Stay up way past midnight, analyse lyrics, and redesign your new era accordingly

D) Throw a themed listening party and make a custom cocktail called “Emotional Damage”

2. Your dream artist is playing in another city. You:

A) Say, “Cool, I’ll catch clips online”

B) Think about it, but you’re broke

C) Buy tickets. Figure everything else out later. YOLO.

D) Sell furniture. Hitch a ride. Move countries. Camp outside the venue. No regrets.

3. Someone says your fave is “overrated.” You:

A) Shrug. To each their own.

B) Gasp audibly

C) Unfriend, block and report them

D) Deliver a TED Talk titled “Actually You’re Just Wrong”

Mostly A’s — The Chill Appreciator
You enjoy things calmly. I respect your emotional stability. Teach me your ways, oh great one.
Mostly B’s — The Casual Enthusiast
You’ve got love, but boundaries. Still, one live performance and it’s all over for you.
Mostly C’s — The Emotionally Invested One
You feel everything deeply. Your walls are decorated with posters and feelings.
Mostly D’s — The Unhinged Devotee
You are the fandom. You are the moment. You know when that key change happens and the song changes completely. You haven’t been chill since 2014.

If you’ve ever met someone at a show and instantly trauma-bonded over the little known third album — congrats, you’ve experienced the purest form of connection.

Fandom friendships are intense. You’ve got matching playlists. You’ve cried over the same forgotten interview. You’ve fought the uneducated public online together. That’s loyalty.

And whether you’re 14 or 40, having people who get the depth of your obsession is healing. You can scream in all-caps without judgment (remember, we listen and we don’t judge, well maybe just a little). You can post memes and spiral together. It’s real, it’s wholesome, it’s chaos — and it’s community.

Let’s talk about that moment when the lights go down, the crowd starts screaming, and your fave walks on stage.
It’s spiritual.
You’re not even on Earth anymore.
Those are the memories that stay forever:

You remember the smell, the sound, the way you cried into your glitter. That’s magic. That’s serotonin in 4D.

People who don’t get it will always say: “You’re being dramatic.”


But here’s the thing: drama is part of the fun.

You weren’t just watching a show. You were feeling something when you needed it most. That music was the sellotape that held your broken heart through hard things.

That character made you feel seen.

That artist made you believe in joy again.

That goal from that athlete? Life changing.

This isn’t about celebrity worship — it’s about a connection, a catharsis, and a community. It's about loving something with your whole heart when the world tries to make you numb.

There is nothing cringey about loving something fully. The world needs more people who care too much, who scream at concerts, who cry over fictional deaths, who still wear their old tour shirts like armour.

So whether you’re still deep in your fangirl era or just popping in occasionally to rewatch your comfort show — know this: