Overcoming Fandom Shame
Being a fan, and being a part of various fandoms is a huge part of my life, and I love it, but there are always difficulties that come with it. One thing I’ve been struggling a lot with for the past several months has been fandom shame, that is to say, feeling embarrassed or shame for being a fan of something. And I think a lot of people struggle with it too. Sometimes it’s externally generated, namely if someone laughs at or makes fun of you for liking something. But sometimes it’s internally generated. No one has judged you or given you crap about being a fan of something, but you still feel embarrassed. A lot of times, at least for me, it’s a combination of the two.
Fandom shame doesn’t come out of nowhere. It largely stems from a general cultural sense that something isn’t “meant for someone like me,” or, and this is especially true of things traditionally marketed towards women, it is simply something shameful to like. For me, that includes romance novels, fan fiction (although I’ve been loud and proud of that one for a long time now), and K-pop.
But you know what? We all have a right to be fans of whatever the hell we want without shame, be it video games or esoteric cinema or reality TV. And to be able to live that truth, we need to overcome whatever shame we feel. Not by shaming ourselves for feeling shame (shame spirals are never good), but by being proud of whatever fandom you’re in, or at least accepting that there is nothing wrong with it.
One way I’ve tried to trick myself out of fandom shame is by saying I’m not really a fan of it. Because fandom is such a spectrum of intensity and carries so many different facets, if you’re ashamed or embarrassed about liking something, you can always say “yeah I like it but I’m not really a fan per se.” And it would be true because no one exhibits every single solitary fan behavior for anything. You can always say “well yes I do X and Y” but the real fans do “A, B, and C.” But this method just deflects or buries fandom shame, it doesn’t help us overcome it.
I did this kind of deflection a lot with being a fan of BTS. First it was “I really like their music but I’m not ARMY (the name of the BTS fandom)” then it was “I’m just Army-adjacent, walking next to it, and occasionally wading in, but not really a part of it.” But just in the last couple weeks honestly, I’ve finally been able to own the fact that yeah, I’m ARMY.
One big factor in helping overcome fandom shame is knowing you aren’t alone. The internet can be a dark and terrible place, and of course all fandoms have their toxic elements. But it’s also a place not just for consuming fandom, but for seeing other people consume and love the same thing you do. It’s easy to intellectually know you aren’t alone in a fandom, but much harder to feel it. Even if you don’t engage yourself, there is something reassuring about seeing people who are fans of the same thing you are being so excited and positive about it. This is where I particularly love YouTube. Because it allows you to see people creating content and being excited about all sorts of fandoms, sometimes even with people in the comments sections cheering them on. (Yes, I’ve read comments sections that made me feel good and positive about the world!)
The biggest thing that has helped me overcome my fandom shame, ironically enough, is being open about my fandoms. A lot of time, or at least more than I expected, people will be more accepting than you might think of whatever it is you like, if you mention it. For example, when discussing music with a coworker who used to be in a rock band, I somewhat embarrassedly mentioned that most of the new music I listened to these days was K-pop. His response? “Oh yeah, K-pop is cool.” And as soon as he said that I felt some of my internalized shame wash away. The same thing happens when I read romance novels – sometimes with bright pink covers and everything – in public. The more open I am about what I like, the better and more confident I feel about expressing my fandom. And while some people will still judge, either intentionally or unintentionally, more people won’t.
Of course, the flip side of this is that it’s important not to judge or shame other people for their fandoms as well. Which, to be honest, I am far from perfect at. I’ve judged people for loving reality TV, gone into purist mode about the books vs movies or TV shows for different fantasy works, and used to look down on romance novels, which I now love. But even if you don’t get it, even if it’s not and will never be your cup of tea, that doesn’t make it bad, and certainly doesn’t mean other people are silly or wrong for liking it. And even if you don’t mean to judge, and I think most people honestly don’t, laughing at someone’s fandoms, or scoffing at it can create fandom shame in others, albeit unintentionally. One of the most important benefits of overcoming your own fandom shame I’ve found, is that you are far less likely to shame others.
No one’s experience is universal, either in how they experience fandom shame – if they do at all – or in how they overcome it. But at the root of overcoming fandom shame I think is empathy and openness. Openness to accepting other people’s fandoms and your own (regardless of what you “should” like) and empathy for both yourself and for other fans. Empathy that they may feel shame or embarrassment too, empathy that just because you don’t get it that doesn’t make it bad, and empathy that fandom is at its core about the celebration and love for a thing, not negativity. So let’s celebrate what we love, rather than be ashamed of it. Easier said than done, I know, but at the end of the day, that’s what matters.
