They Made Me Their Hobby – And I Survived Anyway
They Made Me Their Hobby – And I Survived Anyway
I was always one of the “weird ones”, apparently.
The strange girl, the alt kid, the one people didn’t quite understand but somehow couldn’t leave alone. I didn’t realise it at the time, but some people only know how to process difference by attacking it. And I was different. I didn’t shrink. I didn’t blend in. I existed — loudly, imperfectly, honestly. And that was apparently enough to make me a target.
Back in the Bish Vegas days, when the goth scene had its own universe, I had hate tracks written about me. Actual songs. Imagine being a teenage girl with an alias — angelwings13 — and hearing that grown lads in the alt scene had used their “creativity” to slate you. I was shocked. My friends had to calm me down because I genuinely couldn’t believe that I was the muse for their bitterness. Of all the things they could write about, they chose a teenage girl just trying to survive.
Their lyrics were vile — accusing me of STDs even though I was with my first, then my second boyfriend. Calling me a “porn star” like that’s the ugliest thing they could imagine. Let’s be real, it said more about their fantasies than anything about me. One of the girls in the band even knew me from St John’s, and somehow found it empowering to hate on other women.
Internalised misogyny is a hell of a drug.
And then there was the pink-haired girl from QE.
We had mutual punk friends, and for some reason she made me her project. Told me to unalive myself. Acted like I’d somehow offended her simply by existing. She faked being a Suicide Girl, and when I was actually scouted — when I had the emails and proof — she spiralled. Suddenly I’d stepped on a stage she only pretended to stand on, and that was enough for her to dedicate way too much of her energy to tearing me down. She eventually moved into burlesque, but it took her a while to stop treating me like her weekend hobby.
Here’s the thing I still don’t understand:
If I’m such a threat, why don’t people just avoid me?
Why write songs?
Why gossip?
Why obsess?
Why try to crush someone who’s just trying to breathe?
It took me years to understand the answer:
People don’t obsess over people they don’t care about.
People don’t try to destroy somebody who blends in.
People don’t stalk or smear or smear or spit venom at someone they see as “nothing”.
They only do that to people who make them feel something — jealousy, insecurity, fear, reflection, a reminder of everything they aren’t.
People who shrink themselves never attract hate clubs.
People who shine, do.
And I shine, even when I don’t mean to.
I’m a dork. I’m cool. I’m awkward and funny and stubborn and soft-hearted and chaotic in the most harmless ways. And I deserve to survive and thrive in this difficult world just as much as anyone else.
And that’s exactly what I’m doing.
These days my life is full of adventure, good memories, and good people. People who don’t ask me to water myself down just so they can feel tall. People who don’t turn me into a caricature because they can’t handle the real thing. People who don’t need me to be small in order for them to feel big.
So yes — it’s almost flattering that some people still make me their hobby.
Imagine having all that free time and choosing to use it on me.
But I’m not that girl anymore.
I’m not the version of myself that their stories distorted.
I’m still here.
Still strong.
Still surviving.
Still rising.
And now?
Now I get to tell my own story — loudly, honestly, unapologetically.
Because the truth is simple:
You can’t break someone who already learned to rebuild herself a million times from a million parts, before.
As a woman - I'm still targeted, but these days I've learned to take their obsessions as a compliment. I awaken something in them so fiercely they can't hold a mirror up to themselves and so they punish me.
And I say, "let them".
Sarah Wingfield ❤️
Alt model / Independent Disability Advocate/ Actress
Alt text:
A young woman with long pink-streaked hair sits on a bed, wearing a pink corset, fishnet tights, and fluffy white leg warmers. She holds a black electric guitar covered in colourful stickers. The photo has a bright, high-contrast, soft-focus style. Pink bubble text at the top reads, “They made me their hobby – and I survived anyway.” A small heart graphic to the right says “Kawaii Doll Decora.”
