I Hate, Hate, HATE… The Switch Up

I mourn Sydney Sweeney more than I probably should. Normally, when I mention this, I am met with confusion. But the Sydney Sweeney I keep in the back of my mind isn’t the one spreading hateful, bigoted rhetoric. When I think of Sydney Sweeney, I think of myself. I think of myself, freshman year of high school, sitting alone in the library during lunch, watching Everything Sucks on my phone. I felt so isolated and different, and seeing queer characters my age on TV made me believe this kind of life was possible for me. Seeing Sydney’s character made me feel normal, which was all I could ask for.

Now, when I mention this, I am given some sentiment about celebrity parasocialism. Many online spaces are witnessing a shift in the way they discuss celebrities. The hyper-obsessed fan is now often labeled as ‘parasocial’, a term dictating an intense one-sided attachment to a public figure. Fans claiming they “know” a celebrity as if they personally know them, not just internet tidbits pieced together to form an idea of who this person is. While I would not consider myself parasocially attached to the “old” Sydney Sweeney, seeing her stray so far from what I once imagined her to be was disappointing. 

In the time of political unrest in the age of social media, celebrity politics has become a hot-button topic. Netizens are unsettled by celebrities with infinite resources who use their power to punch down instead of using their voice to uplift. To internet users, few were surprised by Sydney Sweeney’s right-leaning views coming forward. She had not spoken about politics or branded herself as progressive, other than her one role in Everything Sucks. No one could have suspected this kind of rhetoric to be spread from one of pop culture's most prominent gay icons: Nicki Minaj. 

In December of 2025, Nicki attended an event at Turning Point USA, where she discussed conservative gender roles and praised the current administration with Erika Kirk. This sent the internet into a frenzy, due to the utter shock and betrayal felt by her fans. A very large sector of Nicki Minaj’s fanbase is part of the LGBTQ+ community, and these comments shocked fans as they contradicted everything that Nicki had publicly stood for in the past. 

Minaj publicly stood in support of the queer community, performing at Pride, guest-judging on RuPaul's Drag Race, and cancelling shows in non-queer-friendly countries. She preached about individuality, encouraging fans to be themselves and to disregard judgement, accompanied by snappy lyrics and a vibrant pop backtrack. Nicki has always held a position as an outsider in the music industry, being a black woman and one of the first female rap stars in a male dominated field, attracting fans who may not feel like they belong amongst their peers. Her campy and outrageous style felt authentically her, and strayed from usual early 2000s rap visuals. She represented what her fans needed the most, someone unapologetically themselves who uses self-expression to create meaningful art that people connected with. 

Nicki’s fandom, the Barbz, became a community of its own. The Barbz are known across the internet to be an active fanbase, fiercely loyal to Nicki and very interconnected. The prominence of this fandom in the stan Twitter space created a forum for Barbz to share opinions and form connections based on a shared love for an artist’s message. Gay fans were able to create a safe space of their own, where they can form relationships with those they can relate to all over the world.

This is why this shift felt like such a betrayal. Not only were these fans the reason she was able to reach her mainstream success, but fans also went out of their way to spend money on tickets, merchandise, and more to support an artist they enjoy. More than just enjoy, fans trusted her. She ripped the foundation out of a legacy built on love and acceptance. A fandom that was once a safe space for those who felt different was now haunted by Nicki’s bigoted remarks. 

This feeling of loss goes beyond the parasocial. Fans are not upset because they thought Nicki was better than this; the frustration stems from another layer of safety and joy being ripped from the community. This isn’t the loss of Nicki as a person, but more of what she represents. Queer joy and community are necessary to thrive in our modern world, not just survive it. Personal liberties of the LGBT community are constantly in question by the United States government, and having an outlet like this allowed for celebratory connection over art. In the space of artistic expression, having an idol who once preached or represented acceptance turn their back on the community that supported them takes away the escapism one may feel when enjoying their work. If the art meant something to you, that kind of loss is not an overreaction or parasocialism. It is merely a symptom of a society leaving its people to seek safety in artistic expression, while uplifting voices who spread ignorance in a world with plenty of it already.  

Strike Out,

Lillian Mclemore, Writer