I don’t know if I have ever connected with a character before. I would find aspects, actions, and little quirks I could identify with, but that would be it. When the epidemic of “literally me” characters (I’m talking about every Ryan Gosling character) hit, there was this weird distance I felt. This strange yet widespread joke online only served as a reminder that I hadn’t ever seen my personality portrayed on screen.
Ok, let me be slightly toxic for a second. I see certain parts of myself within characters like Holden Caulfield from “Catcher in the Rye” and Shinji Ikari in “Neon Genesis Evangelion,” but that’s the point. You are faced with some of the worst parts of these characters, their flaws and faults on full display, as a mirror to your own. When I would call them out for being pretentious or self-isolating, I had to pause and reflect, closing the page or turning off the TV to think.
But these are all just characters, they don’t exist, and–while authors or actors may try–-there’s a high possibility that they will never achieve the true depth of a real person. I had resigned myself to thinking I would be stuck feeling misunderstood in my ways, occasionally catching a glimpse of something that felt like me.
Then I started listening to “The Broski Report.”
To those who don’t know, Brittany Broski made waves online as the iconic “Kombucha Girl” with a meme template that took over Twitter before her TikTok page blew up. Since that single, innocuous moment, she’s gone on to be featured in podcasts with Cody Ko and Noel Miller, interview celebrities like Hozier and Hasan Piker, and–biggest of all–become one of my favorite YouTubers!
For a tiny bit of context, I don’t listen to podcasts, I put on a multi-hour-long YouTube video I found at 10 in the morning and work my way through it for about a day as if it’s an audiobook or something. In this case, I select a new Broski Report episode, flip my phone over, and begin my skincare routine.
Brittany engages with her listeners from the moment an episode starts. You’re laughing like friends then nodding along to either the zaniest thing you’ve ever heard–a poignant reading of the work of Ernest Hemingway, or searing political commentary. Every once in a while, Brittany will remind the audience that she is in her podcast station alone, which makes me feel so validated as a person who loves to talk to herself about everything. And I do mean everything.
I’m very passionate about things. I find it difficult to enjoy things casually. My interest must be all-consuming and I must know everything. I would have never associated this word with myself when asked how I would describe my personality, but it’s something I now cannot look past. I feel like my passion is overwhelming to others, and it’s disheartening when I feel that wall being built as I try to connect over something I cannot help but love. I can tell when people find me annoying or are just waiting for me to finish.
I mean that doesn’t stop me from going on and on, but at least I’m aware of it.
Brittany Broski reminds me of my passion. This thing that I felt differentiated me from others is so perfectly encapsulated by Broski and how she speaks on art, history, music, and politics. Every episode jumps from topic to topic, from serious to silly, in a relatable way. I feel as though I’m talking to my friend who’s going on and on about something she loves and it’s a lovely feeling. It helps that we share many common interests, such as masked bands and literature. But what truly gets me is the way she speaks. No matter what topic, Brittany dives in out of a desire to know more, not just about some niche subjects, but about politics, religion, psychology, and philosophy. The casual nature in which Brittany goes about her search for knowledge-as I see it at least-feels like a big step toward the normalization of passion within women. Normally, such actions are pushed aside, brushed off as being a “fangirl,” which has taken on a derogatory meaning. Women’s passion towards media-especially within the realm of music-is so overly criticized. You’re a “crazed fangirl” if you buy an artist’s merch and sing along to all of their songs, but many bands wouldn’t have achieved their same level of success without fangirls. Ever heard of The Beatles? Thanks fangirls! I mean, look at how some men will memorize the rosters of football teams, purchase hundreds of dollars worth of jerseys, and even damage property post-win or even post-lose. Instead we call that… hm, what do we call that?
Passion connects people, but when one of the people is separated behind a screen, it can confuse them. This line between creators and viewers grows blurrier considering how accessible content becomes, and how much of an online personality is built on establishing a connection. Relatability is more valuable in the online market than ever before, to the point that many celebrities are going out of their way to appear “normal,” which only seems more out-of-touch. I have never felt like Brittany’s genuine nature was a facade, in my mind, a camera lens does not change her from the studio to my phone. But I can never be sure.
“Parasocial relationship” is a phrase that grows more common online. It can lose its meaning with how frequently it gets thrown around, as do so many words or phrases online, but it’s important to keep in mind. There is still a lens, that line that separates a viewer or listener or reader or whoever from the creator. No matter how often you reread something, or cry to a song, that does not change the distance. In the end, these people may be the same as those characters you see yourself in. But that does not change their impact. Be grateful for the way someone showed up in your life through their art. Say thank you–after all, that’s what this has been–and show support, but, most importantly, show respect and admiration by allowing these creators privacy.