How Our Wounds Shape the Way We See the World of Celebrity
I understand that parts of this article may provoke a reaction. Our personal experiences and wounds influence not only our preferences for public figures but also how ardently we defend them. In the context of this discussion, psychologists call it trauma bonding.
Celebrities often share their personal struggles—whether in interviews, confessional songs, or bestselling memoirs. As fans, we form emotional connections with them. We admire their talent, their charisma, their curated personas. We watch them from afar, yet somehow, they feel close to us.
This attachment can be powerful. And revealing.
Some fans even proudly call themselves stans—devoted, defensive, unwavering. They know everything about their favorite celebrity and will go to battle for them at a moment’s notice. They believe in this person. They identify with them. But what happens when admiration turns into projection?
If you’ve ever been on the receiving end of a stan’s fury, you know it can feel incredibly personal. Disagree with them, and you’re not just wrong—you’re the enemy.
But let’s take a step back. Why does this happen? And why do we care so much about people we’ve never even met?
Why Do We Attach to Certain Public Figures?
Because their story resonates with ours.
Because their emotional pain feels like ours.
Because when they succeed, it gives us hope. And when they struggle, it confirms something inside us—that the world is unfair, that people are cruel, that we must fight to be seen.
What we fail to recognize is that when we put someone on a pedestal, the relationship can never be equal. And if we actually met this person, we’d likely feel out of our depth. The vulnerability we imagined? It wouldn’t be there.
Ask yourself:
• Do I admire this person for who they are, or for what they represent to me?
• Am I projecting my own needs onto them?
• Would I still feel this attached if they didn’t meet my expectations?
Because here’s the truth: The people we idolize don’t actually change. Our perception of them does.
The Power of Projection
Now, let’s shift gears. What happens when a public figure becomes polarizing?
Take Prince Harry.
If you’re of a certain age, you remember the young boy walking behind his mother’s coffin. You remember the MUMMY card on top of the casket. You remember the gut-wrenching unfairness of it all.
And now, years later, you’re watching him tell his story.
Some believe he has every right to share his pain. Others believe he should stop talking about it. But at the end of the day, your reaction to his choices has less to do with him—and more to do with you.
Ask yourself:
• Does his struggle remind me of my own?
• Does his story trigger my own feelings of injustice, rejection, or betrayal?
• Am I defending him—or defending the part of me that was never heard?
Because the truth is, every time we attach our identity to someone else’s narrative, we keep ourselves tied to the past.
The mind seeks out what feels familiar. And if our core wounds are unhealed, we will always find reflections of them in the world around us.
The Celebrity Mirror: What Are We Really Defending?
When someone criticizes the celebrity you adore, why does it feel so personal?
Because deep down, you might not be defending them.
You might be defending:
• The part of you that longs to be seen and validated.
• The part of you that feels like an outsider, fighting for acceptance.
• The part of you that knows what it’s like to be dismissed, ignored, or ridiculed.
So, you go to battle for them. You write the comments. You defend their name. You need them to be right.
Because if they’re wrong?
What does that say about you?
Healing Comes From Within, Not From Winning Arguments
If your wounds are wrapped up in your beliefs about fairness, rejection, or betrayal, you might find yourself getting emotionally invested in public dramas that aren’t yours to carry.
• If you believe that injustice must be avenged, you’ll keep looking for battles to fight.
• If you believe that people never change, you’ll keep proving it to yourself.
• If you believe that no one has ever truly seen you, you’ll keep finding people who don’t.
But here’s what’s real:
You were always worthy. You were always enough. You don’t have to prove it.
Healing isn’t about getting an apology. It’s not about being right. It’s about letting go of the need for validation that will never be enough.
The people you admire? They are human. They are flawed. They are not here to save you.
And the truth is, you were never meant to be saved.
You were meant to wake up.
So, What Now?
The next time you feel an emotional pull toward a celebrity’s story—whether admiration or disdain—pause. Ask yourself why.
Instead of defending them, turn your attention inward. What part of you still longs to be heard?
Instead of focusing on their struggles, tend to your own. What part of your story needs rewriting?
Instead of assuming that your worth is tied to someone else’s success, decide—fully, consciously, unwaveringly—that you are enough as you are.
Because in the end?
This was never about Harry. Or Meghan. Or Taylor. Or Beyoncé.
This was always about you.