Why I Didn’t Talk to a Star at Comic-Con: An Honest Reflection

It was my first and last time at Atlanta Comic-Con. I hadn’t expected it to be held in the basement of the Atlanta Conference Center. I’m not sure what prompted the waves of nausea that washed over me during my time there, but it was not pleasant. While taking deep breaths, my boyfriend pointed out that in the corner where celebrities were sitting, you could pay for an autograph or a picture with them. While doing my best not to vomit, he pointed out an actress from a TV show we had been watching together. He asked if I was interested in getting an autograph or photo. I was not. He then said he dared me to go up and talk to her. I froze. I hadn’t wanted to go up and talk to her because I had no idea what to say. Everyday social interactions often presented trapdoors and surprises and struck me as a maze that I was lucky to make it through without being scathed. Why would I choose to venture into an awkward, uncomfortable conversation in which I had no idea how to start? I had also been listening to podcasts where former child celebrities discussed how traumatic fame had been. Jennett McCurdy described moms dragging their children up to her and demanding a picture when she just wanted to be left alone. Alyson Stone talked about how people felt entitled to her time and energy because they had grown up with her performing on their televisions. At that moment, all that flashed before my eyes. Would I say or do something that would cross some boundary I didn’t know existed? Something else, a thought I didn’t want to grapple with, was why I didn’t go up to her that day.

There are clear guidelines when I watch someone acting on television, in the movie theater, or on a stage. I enjoy the art they create, and then I go home and leave. If I am at home, I simply turn off the television. On their end, they did a job and went back to their own lives. There’s a connection so far, as I enjoy their work, and hopefully, they enjoyed creating it. If I want to know more about a particular artist, I can use Google and Wikipedia. While the accuracy of the information in those forums is debatable, these are the ways I’m comfortable interacting with, if not the person themselves, and what they present to the public. I don’t need more information, and I don’t feel a need to meet them in person. I am most comfortable with the distance that exists when it exists in the art form, and I exist as an appreciator. There are clear lines, and I know what to expect from myself and the performer. Going back to that moment at Comicon, not only was I afraid of saying or doing something that would be unpleasant for the actress, thank you harm OCD and generalized anxiety, but I didn’t want the perceived order that I had constructed with regards to how I view the famous/ how I interact with them to be changed. I spend so much time feeling terrorized by the changing world. The way I try to exert a bit of control in my life and soothe my never-ending anxiety is to focus on what I can control. Social interactions are a great source of anxiety because while most people can probably tell what the next best thing to do in a conversation is, often, I feel like if I say or do the wrong thing, a trap door will open and swallow me whole. As soon as he saw me freeze, paralyzed by the uncharted social dynamic before me, they stopped pushing, and we continued to look at the rest of Comicon. 

One of the ways I prepare myself for any eventuality is that I love to learn and research different topics. I used to think there was no such thing as too much information, but now there is. Instead of just thinking if I wanted to tell the actress that I had enjoyed the show she was a part of and leave it there, all the information and knowledge about fame, fan interactions, etc, I flooded my head. Instead of thinking, how can I be sure I am perfect in this social situation? I should have considered whether I would have enjoyed the interaction and gone from there. In retrospect, I do not regret not speaking to her. The anxiety being paralyzing and the over-analysis having a firm foothold, I avoided a bit of uncertainty that I wanted to at that moment. The lesson from this situation is that I should not always avoid social situations I don’t know how to handle. If I don’t practice new social situations, I won’t be confident, and it won’t be a skill I ever feel confident in. I try to say to more social engagements now than in the past. Avoiding being anxious isn’t the goal, moving through it and slowly exposing myself to what makes me anxious is the best course of action.