For Your Reflection and a Playlist: Why You So Obsessed with Me?
About the Series & Our Counselor Reflections: “Why You So Obsessed with Me?”
When one hears the term “obsession,” they usually connote it with the negative — a dictionary calls this thinking “intrusive,” and Mariah Carey sings about a toxic ex in her song that inspired our title. Yet, Camp Thirlby wanted to take a different approach, revealing the power in obsession; our series spanned topics like fixating on the future, reconnecting with vulnerability through rewatching the same movies, and even how the complex phenomenon of envy can be a positive thing. Our counselors found empowerment through their obsessions, giving the dirty word a new perspective, and to continue this outlook, they reflected on those obsessions they have come to accept — their celebrity crush, the same musical album, a genre of film — along with compiling a collaborative playlist to close our series (featured at the bottom of this piece!).
Immunity by Clairo
Many would say that I have an obsessive personality. I’ve been heavily involved with various T.V. fandoms (shoutout to Glee in middle school and Buffy in high school), I like to think that I’d do anything for my favorite indie female musicians, and I overuse the term “stan” to an almost annoying extent. Deciding which obsessions of mine are actually healthy feels difficult when I would do anything to forget about my Glee-themed Tumblr account; yet, I usually get defensive over people making fun of my many interests — let people like what they like! It would take hours to read about every niche interest of mine, so I’ll focus on one: similar to my love for rewatching shows and movies, I also find it impossible to stop listening to the same album, over and over again. While my list of favorite albums is constantly growing, I haven’t been able to stop listening to Clairo’s Immunity the minute I was introduced to it last fall — I now listen to it in its entirety at least twice a week. Whenever I’m feeling any type of way, I’ll immediately go to Spotify and hit play, hearing the beginning piano chords of “Alewife” ring through my ears and soothe my anxieties. That’s not to say that this album isn’t emotional as hell; most of the songs evoke memories of exes and feelings that are too heavy to face headon. Yet, I feel comfort in knowing that Claire’s voice will ground those feelings and maybe even bring in new ones with each listen. Especially in today’s circumstances of self-isolation, her gay ballads of loneliness and first time butterflies feel even more relevant, giving me solace that I’m somehow connected to the musician through our universally queer feelings.
Elena Phethean:
It’s not hard to understand why we obsess over our post-grad lives. Logically, it’s more productive to think about the future than the past. Lately, I’ve been obsessing too about how the choices I’ve made and who I’ve been will impact who I will become. Acknowledging the past makes working for the future all the more meaningful. Obsession with your past self, your current self, and your future self are not only understandable during such a period of life change as graduation, but can actually be a form of self-love. The obsessions here I guess boil down to something more simple — obsession about ourselves. I don’t think “obsessed with yourself” means self-absorbed; thinking about yourself can mean self-reflection, self-awareness, and self-prioritization. An obsession with the self, so long as it’s matched by compassion for others and a care for things outside yourself, is not selfish or bad. You’re allowed to think about yourself, and in fact, it’s often essential to think deeply about all iterations of yourself to understand your goals, desires, and needs. Let yourself obsess without judgement – you are the only one who knows and can help yourself best.
Jocelyn Diemer:
Photo of Hozier ℅ The Irish Times
In researching the shared sapphic obsession with Hozier for my part of this series, I delved deep into the singer’s Twitter fanbase. It was relatively new territory for me — I tend to keep my stan tendencies to occasional tweets and Instagram-story rants — and I was half expecting to experience the toxic, prying, cultish atmosphere that is so often associated with virtual fandoms. Instead, I found a lovely group of people devoted to encouraging each other, sharing concert videos, and boosting wonderful art made by other fans. They are an international group of friends, united by a shared love of Hozier and a desire to share their obsession with others. I have not yet started my own fan account (and I probably never will), but I have no doubt that I would be welcomed with open arms if I ever change my mind. This is because there’s something extraordinary about shared obsession. Discovering that someone has fallen just as head-over-heels in love with something as you have invokes a very specific feeling: the flutter in your chest when your favourite song comes on over the aux, or the burst of excitement when you see someone wearing the merch of a beloved movie. It is the ability to rant to each other, to compare notes, to shout-text “RIGHT?!” and “I know!!!” At the core of virtual fandom is the joy of mutual recognition and the pleasure of community, which is made especially precious in the isolation that is currently stifling IRL relationships.
Maura Fallon:
Still from Halloween (1978)
Growing up, I was never a coward, but rather a child with an overactive imagination. That being said, a lot of things scared me. The scene in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone when Harry witnessed Quirrel and Voldemort in the woods; the dark (I slept with my lights on for far too long); that one corner in my basement that felt colder than the rest; the spiders that would climb their way up into my bunk bed. All these things would send me running to whatever adult was nearest, demanding these grievances be dealt with. But like I said, I wasn't cowardly — rather, even at a young age, I sought these experiences out. I was obsessed with the strange and the macabre. I would insist on going to the haunted house when we went apple picking, even if I kept my eyes shut the whole time. I would argue with my cousins that, actually, I was old enough to watch The Little Vampire, and very quickly fell in love with Rudolph, the titular role. Halloween was and still is my favorite day of the year, and when my mom was still sewing my costumes, my overactive imagination always held firm that the ensemble needed to be scary.
Today, not much has changed — I still need people to remove spiders from my room — except that I have come to love being scared. Maybe it's a combination of my imagination and true belief in magic; maybe it's because I love an adrenaline rush and pushing my own boundaries and creating shock value. Whether it's Halloween, trashy vampire shows, or the ghost tattoo on my arm that I got on a full moon at midnight on Friday the 13th, I am obsessed, still, with the things that go bump in the night. Horror films, in particular, have offered me a special type of solace — when I'm at my saddest, loneliest, or heartbroken, for a moment, they make me forget. I am too sad to be scared, and too scared to be sad. Horror films and all things spooky bring me to an equilibrium, offer me clarity and support, and show me that there is always more than meets the eye, to life, to the situation that I'm in, to other people. The obsession seems strange or even juvenile to most, but to me, ironically, the macabre has always provided comfort and safety.
Lola Proctor:
Willow and Tara from Buffy the Vampire Slayer
I have come to accept that I will never not have an obsession over something. Writing about why we are obsessed with teen dramas made me realize that I will always be hopping from one obsession to the next and that that hole will always be filled, no matter what it is. There is something nostalgic about having obsessions, especially when I indulge in shows that are over 20 years old. This year, I've been binge-watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, a show most people my age aren't paying attention to. I get to be obsessed with a universe that no one else is. Buffy the Vampire Slayer gets to be all mine. Despite the constant rhetoric that obsessions are unhealthy, I find comfort in always being able to return to my favorite T.V. shows. Buffy will always be there for me, even when I finish watching all seven seasons. That's the joy of being obsessed with a television show — when I eventually dive back in, the added layer of nostalgia will make the experience even more special.
For continued reflection on our obsessions, no matter how big or small . . .
A playlist to close “Why You So Obsessed with Me,” with songs collected from our Camp Thirlby community
