Fangirl is not a dirty word: Why women’s joy keeps getting dismissed
Women have been belittled for finding joy in nostalgic activities for too long and I've had enough.
There’s something fascinating about the way society decides which childhood interests are allowed to follow us to adulthood. A man in his 30s can spend an entire weekend playing video games, collecting action figures or debating the Marvel Cinematic Universe and people might call him “passionate,” “dedicated” or a “lifelong fan.” A woman in her 30s gets excited about Disney movies, stuffed animals or a show she watched as a child, and suddenly, the conversation shifts. Is she immature? Does she need to grow up?
Apparently, adulthood comes with an invisible rulebook and women get a more rigid edition. I’ve felt the weight of that rulebook more times than I can count: the halfsecond hesitation before admitting I still love something, the nervous laugh I express to make sure no one else gets to it first.
That’s So Raven, for example. Beyond Raven Baxter’s dramatic visions and chaotic attempts to prevent the future from going wrong, one of the show’s most memorable features was her fashion. Her colourful, bold and often wonderfully over-the-top outfits made getting dressed feel like an opportunity for self-expression. As Teen Vogue explored in its 20th-anniversary retrospective on the show’s fashion, Raven’s distinctive style helped make the series a lasting cultural touchstone. For many of us who grew up watching her, it felt like every girl wanted to be a fashion designer.
I loved the idea that clothes could be fun, expressive and a little ridiculous. That an ordinary school day could become a fashion moment if you were brave enough. Revisiting the show now isn’t just about remembering the jokes or the characters. It’s also about reconnecting with the things that made childhood exciting, including the possibility of turning an ordinary school day into a fashion moment.
Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, however, we’re expected to swap those joys for hobbies that look more sophisticated on paper. We can hold down careers, pay bills and worry about the economy, but apparently, enjoying anything associated with being a little girl is where the line gets drawn.
Why?
Part of the answer lies within how society genders our interests. Things coded as “masculine” tend to be handed cultural legitimacy: superheroes are about bravery and saving the world, video games take skill and strategy, action figures and trading cards can be an investment.
Meanwhile, stuffed animals, princesses and childhood TV shows are brushed off as frivolous, even when the enthusiasm behind them is every bit as real.
Allow me to be clear: men shouldn’t be embarrassed about any of this. The problem is that women are expected to justify the same nostalgia.
The way we talk about fans is another example. A man who knows every detail of a superhero’s backstory is praised for his knowledge. On the other hand, a woman who knows every lyric to her favourite pop star’s catalogue is “obsessed.” A man who spends hundreds of dollars collecting rare Pokémon cards can be admired for his commitment, while a woman who collects Jellycats or Disney merchandise is told she’s “too old for that.” A man yells at the TV during the NBA Playoffs and he's a dedicated fan. A woman fangirls over her favourite artist and suddenly she needs to "get a life.”
Both are forms of enthusiasm. Both involve money, time, community and a real emotional connection. Yet one is more likely to be treated as a legitimate hobby, while the other risks becoming a punchline.
This distinction is especially obvious in the language we use. “Fangirl” is so often used as an insult, shorthand for embarrassing, irrational or excessive. Female fans are often portrayed as hysterical crowds screaming over celebrities, while male fans are framed as knowledgeable enthusiasts who take their interests seriously, even when they’re screaming at a TV, thinking the referee can hear them.
If we need proof that female fans have helped shape popular culture, we can look at music history as well. The Beatles and Elvis Presley didn’t become cultural icons in a vacuum. Their talent, performances and marketing all played important roles in their success, but so did the audiences who bought their records, attended their concerts and helped turn their names into household ones.
Consider Beatlemania in the 60s. Teenage girls screaming for The Beatles were often portrayed as hysterical — irrational and incapable of appreciating music seriously. Yet Smithsonian’s account of Beatlemania highlights how teenage girls helped propel the band into the cultural spotlight, including through the television appearances that drew enormous audiences. The Guardian’s history of Beatlemania looks at how readily the reactions of those “screamers” were dismissed. Elvis Presley’s rise stirred a similar frenzy, with young women’s excitement often waved away as teenage hysteria.
Of course, it would be an oversimplification to credit fangirls alone for these artists’ success. But it’s equally unjust to mock the fans as irrational while celebrating the cultural impact their support helped create.
There’s real irony here.
Teenage girls are ridiculed for passionately loving a musician, despite that same musician being celebrated as a cultural icon decades later. The phenomenon surrounding him became worthy of documentaries, books and academic study. The girls are remembered as the punchline instead of as part of the story.
Perhaps the problem was never that these women cared too much. Perhaps it’s that society struggled to take their enthusiasm seriously.
The double standard doesn’t end with music. In a 2016 study published in the Journal of Graphic Novels and Comics, researcher Stephanie Orme examined the stigma experienced by female comic book fans, exploring how women can feel like outsiders in communities perceived as masculine, scrutinized both by people outside the fandom and by fellow fans.
Women end up proving they belong in spaces built around things they genuinely love. Enjoy something too feminine and you’re shallow. Enjoy something associated with masculinity and you must be “pretending for attention.” Express too much enthusiasm and you are obsessive, but express too little and you’re not a “real” fan. The problem isn’t simply what women love. It’s that their enthusiasm can become another excuse to question their maturity, intelligence or character.
And the contradiction starts early. Girls are often encouraged to enjoy traditionally feminine things such as princesses, dolls, glitter, stuffed animals and colourful cartoon characters. However, as girls become women, those same interests suddenly become evidence that they have failed to mature. We are encouraged to embrace femininity, but only within certain boundaries. Looking feminine is acceptable, but being too emotionally invested in something feminine isn’t. Liking a popular franchise is fine, provided we do not appear too excited about it. Loving something from childhood is tolerable, given we laugh at ourselves before anyone else can.
I think this reflects a broader expectation that women must constantly curate themselves. We are encouraged to appear polished, capable and mature while being careful not to seem too emotional, frivolous or invested in the wrong things. Even our hobbies become another opportunity to prove that we have outgrown ourselves.
Here’s what I’ve come to believe: there’s nothing immature about finding comfort in familiar stories and characters.
The research agrees.
In a 2023 review published in Current Opinion in Psychology, researchers Kristin Layous and Jaime L. Kurtz examined evidence that nostalgia can promote well-being. They said reflecting on meaningful memories can help people reconnect with their identities and relationships. Revisiting a childhood favourite does not necessarily mean trying to escape adulthood; rather it can be a way of reconnecting with parts of ourselves that remain meaningful as our lives change.
Not every interest needs to become a side hustle. Not every hobby needs to demonstrate intelligence, improve careers or contribute to personal development. Sometimes, watching a childhood favourite is simply a nice way to spend an evening. Sometimes, buying something that reminds us of being a kid is worth it because it makes us smile. And sometimes, rewatching That’s So Raven is just fun.
Of course, there is nothing wrong with growing out of old interests. People change, tastes evolve and not everything we loved at 10 will appeal to us at 35. The point is not that women must hold on to every childhood hobby forever. It is that we should be able to decide what stays with us without worrying that our choices will make us seem less intelligent, capable or worthy of respect.
There is a difference between naturally outgrowing something and abandoning it because we are afraid of how other people might perceive us. I don’t want adulthood to mean policing every part of myself that might seem too childish, too feminine or too enthusiastic. I want to enjoy the things that make me happy without feeling the need to preface them with “I know this is embarrassing, but…”
Maybe the real sign of maturity is learning that our interests do not have to impress anyone. We can take our responsibilities seriously without treating every other part of life as a performance of adulthood. We can build careers, pay our bills, participate in serious conversations about the world and still get excited about a cartoon we watched as children.
So, by all means, keep collecting your Pokémon cards. Rewatch your favourite childhood shows. Buy the stuffed animal. Wear the Disney Mickey Mouse ears. Get excited about the fictional characters you have loved for years. We’re already told, constantly, to take life seriously. We shouldn’t have to take our joy less seriously, too.
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