Cat's Chronicles, Volume One: Friends, Family, Fiction

I’m going to set the scene for you. It’s 6:30 pm on a Tuesday. I’m standing in the hall outside of a poorly lit, tired looking, run down meeting room with about a dozen strangers, but we’re all here for the same reason. As we enter the room, I see the familiar sight of folding chairs, prearranged in a circle. We all take our seats. I volunteer to go first, so I stand: “Hi. My name is Catherine Lake, I’m sixteen years old, and I’m addicted to Criminal Minds.”

Although a clearly fictionalized scenario, as I was writing it, I felt far more connected than I should have. And this was not the first time. Before I joined the BAU team at Quantico, I was a crash survivor of Oceanic flight 815 (tail section, unfortunately). Prior to boarding that flight, I spent a few years studying at Hogwarts under Albus Dumbledore, arguably the greatest headmaster the school had ever seen. So I’ll ask you the same question I’ve been asking myself for years: what’s wrong with me? Maybe nothing at all, at least when it comes to this. Dr. Karen Dill-Shackleford, a social psychologist, defines parasocial relationships as the one-sided relationships we form with fictional characters, and thankfully, it’s actually quite common. That discovery made me want to learn more, and I’m excited to share what I found.

Exploring the “why” behind this relationship theory seems like the best place to start. You probably have heard the word "escapism" before, but if you haven't, escapism is the tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, usually through entertainment and fantasy. We’ve all had our own unique experiences with escapism. As an avid fan of a show that’s literally called Criminal Minds, this conclusion definitely concerned me at first. I mean, is this just a way for my inner sociopath to come out? As I dove deeper into the subject, I was relieved to learn that the root of our fictional attachments have more to do with a specific form of escapism called experience-taking than it did with any sociopathic tendencies. Experience-taking focuses less on living in this fantasy world and more on bringing back elements of it to our daily lives. Essentially, this psychological phenomenon refers to a subconscious habit of temporarily changing personal behaviors, ideologies, and traits in order to better connect with an admired fictional character. Ever hear someone say that a book changed their lives? While that’s often an exaggeration, there might be some truth behind it. If I’m being honest, I can probably credit a good thirty percent of all my academic ambition to Hermione Granger. While that may or may not work out for me in the long run, experience-taking often backfires, causing many people to lose sight of who they are in an attempt to become someone they want to be.

So are we all mentally unstable, or is there something else going on here? Well, I’m glad to report that the reasons we attach aren’t all doom and gloom. In fact, it usually just comes from human empathy. At its core, parasocial relationships are about the ability of a person to empathize with others. In day to day interactions, we naturally read body language, hear tone of voice, and note facial expressions of others. We take stock of what we are given and fill in the blanks ourselves in order to communicate and relate more effectively. We go through this exact same process with fictional characters, empathizing with them as if they were ordinary people. In fact, it is often easier to relate to whom we meet on our laptop screens and book pages than those who are right in front of us. We are far more familiar with the lives of fictional characters than of actual people in our lives. In truth, I know more about Scout Finch’s childhood than my own parents. It’s truly a depressing realization, but there is good news: I am definitely not a sociopath! Studies have found that those who tend to be more attached to fictional characters usually find it easier to empathize in general, both in real life and in fantasy. So if you find yourself thinking, “That sounds like me,” don’t fret-- you’re doing just fine.

Then again, just because something is natural doesn’t mean it’s always healthy. While it’s fun to spend hours wondering which Hogwarts house you’d be sorted into (by the way, I’m having a Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw identity crisis and I would love to hear your opinion), it’s important to be aware of the potential dangers when our attachments go too far. To do this, we have to understand Psychologist Tamar Gendler’s theory of belief vs alief. He describes “belief” as our knowledge that fantasy is separate from reality, while “alief” refers to an ability to suspend that understanding. Alief is what makes watching movies or reading books fun, because it allows us to forget our troubles and get “lost” in another world.

However, the problems arise during the return to reality, when you can no longer retreat into fiction. When researching, I came across many message board posts and blogs that discuss this, but also raise some real concerns. When does it go too far? On the mild end of the scale, one user wrote, “My personality is like 92% the last book I read.” Far more concerning, another user wrote, “Here’s to the kids who use fictional characters as a way of coping… here’s to the kids who need works of fiction to keep on surviving.” While I may joke about the effects entertainment can have on me, others can find themselves in a much more disturbing place. These posts can be read as a cry for help, as if the people who wrote them genuinely don’t know who they are and are unable to function without some sort of crutch. Like most things in life, moderation and perspective are critical to creating positive relationships, even with your fictional friends.

So are we supposed to turn off our TVs forever? Cancel our Netflix subscriptions? Close our books? Clearly, no. There are many ways to enjoy your favorite stories without losing touch with reality. Think of it like Oreo cookies: a few is just fine, but a whole bag will make you sick. The key is striking a balance-- a healthy mix of friends, family, and fiction.