I Found Family in a Gaga Fan Group

“Social media, quite frankly, is the toilet of the internet…” – Lady Gaga on “Jimmy Kimmel Live”, February 27, 2019

This is one of my favorite Lady Gaga quotes.  I have many of them, it’s true—I think she’s an incredible speaker, on top of being an amazing musician and songwriter, and her words never fail to move and inspire me in one way or another—but this one just kind of cuts right through all the bullshit, and it’s dead-on accurate.

Ever checked out the comments section of almost any public Facebook or Twitter post?  (Those are the two platforms I use most and am most familiar with, but I’m sure Instagram and others are just as bad, if not worse.)  If you have, you’ll likely already be nodding in agreement with that quote.  Especially if it has anything to do with politics, religion, current world events, or celebrity gossip, it really can be like stepping into a nasty public restroom; you can almost smell the filth and feel your shoes sticking to the floor, and when you emerge back into the light of day, you feel…well, for lack of a better word, icky.  Most of the time, I find myself wishing I’d never looked at them in the first place.  I keep going back, though, because to be perfectly honest, I’d never see or hear from most of the people I know if I quit social media entirely.

OK, so I'll admit that in some cases that might be a good thing, too, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.  So I guess I should just admit that I’m a social media addict.  I want to see what other people have going on in their lives.  It’s partly caring and partly curiosity.  Morbid curiosity, more often than not.

The good news is that I’ve gotten pretty good at not doing the whole comparison thing, and I know that even the lives that appear to be the most “perfect” in people’s posts are usually not anywhere close to perfect in reality.

I’ve watched—and, sadly, been part of—disputes between relatives and friends over something stupid posted on Facebook.  My stepmother and her oldest son, my stepbrother, got into it once (I can’t even remember clearly now what started the whole thing), and I spoke out to him in her defense via private message, something that was not even viewable by others.  It was the last time we communicated, and in the end, several family members, including myself, were unfriended, blocked, and cut out of his life entirely.  The rift still hadn’t been mended when he passed away suddenly a couple of years later, and we were all cordially invited to not attend his memorial.  When my stepmother also passed in 2016, his widow, kids, and other relatives returned the favor by not attending hers.

I’ve witnessed and felt sick to my stomach over some asshole’s comment that the author of a post on a controversial topic should kill themselves.  I’ve muted posts and comments from my own father on multiple occasions (most recently just a few days ago, in fact) when I just couldn’t take seeing the ugly sentiments and tasteless jokes anymore.  Nothing I say will stop it, as I discovered when I tried to call him out on a post that hit a little too close to one of my own experiences, of which he was fully aware.  He was sorry to have offended or upset me, personally.  He was not sorry enough to think before posting more.

It’s a toilet, indeed, and you’d probably want to avoid sitting directly on the seat.  Lay down some extra T.P. before you make yourself comfortable, or learn to hover.

But every now and then, it’s not such a bad place after all.

Amazingly, in spite of all of the gross behavior, ugliness, and hatred that’s floating around in that internet toilet where we all tend to hang out so much these days, sometimes you will find a haven.  Sometimes you will find a place where you can smile at the things you see.  Sometimes you will find acceptance and welcome.  Sometimes you will find true caring and kindness.  Sometimes you will find others like yourself, who just want to connect with people who share a common interest.  Sometimes, inexplicably, almost miraculously, you will find a whole new extended family.

I know this to be true, because I found mine in a Lady Gaga fan group.

We’re still a relatively small family when you consider that most of us came together from a larger group with tens of thousands of members; we had just 81 members at last count.  It started with a few of us getting tired of our posts immediately getting swamped and lost by the sheer volume of other posts, spam and garbage posts that had nothing to do with Lady Gaga, and trolls attacking other members for small things like grammatical or spelling errors in their posts or comments, when clearly that member was not speaking/writing English as their first language.  They were doing the exact opposite of what Mother Monster would want her Little Monsters to do: Be Kind.

Finally, one of our Little Monster sisters decided it was time to break away—or at least take a step back, if not to leave completely—from the larger, public group to create a new closed one, where those of us who genuinely wanted to spend time sharing anything and everything Gaga-related, without all of the negativity, and enough privacy that we could do so without judgment from the Non Monsters and other assorted acquaintances in our lives and on our Friends lists who just don’t get our obsession.  And believe me, we have taken full advantage of that opportunity.

We’ve shared favorite videos, songs, and pictures.  We’ve shared quotes and concert experience stories.  We’ve discussed trips to Joanne Trattoria, what we ate, and what we plan to order when we get to go back again.  We’ve shared our excitement—and some disappointment—at the announcement that Lady Gaga’s Las Vegas residency would be extended into 2020, and we talked about the possibility of meeting up with other members in person if we were fortunate enough to snag tickets to see the Enigma or Jazz & Piano shows at around the same time.  We’ve talked about the elusive LG6 album and where we hope she’ll tour after it finally drops.  We’ve jumped into the gossip and speculation following A Star Is Born and the performance of Shallow at the Oscars, we have a pretty good idea of who is on Team BradGa and who isn’t, and even I took a major hit to my productivity at work the other day when People Magazine released photos of our girl kissing a guy who wasn’t Bradley Cooper.  (And I’m not even fully on Team BradGa!  I’m sorry…please don’t disown me.)

But don’t be fooled.  Don’t even think for a minute that this relatively superficial stuff is all there is to our story.  Far from it.  No, I have come to love and genuinely care for these other Little Monsters for so many more reasons than the common thread that first connected us, because while we’ve been sharing all of the things I’ve already mentioned, we’ve also been sharing bits and pieces of who we are, what made us pick up that thread in the first place, and why we’re holding on to it so tightly.  Some of us have revealed a few of our personal scars, and others have been there to support them when they did it.

We come from so many different backgrounds, range in age from 19 to 79 to the best of my knowledge (unless you count our honorary members, the Mini Monsters, in which case I believe the youngest is 8 years old), and live in so many different places—the USA, the UK, Canada, the Netherlands, Poland, Germany, and India, just to name a few.  But to read our posts and comments is to see how alike we all are, rather than how different.

In real life, besides Non Monster and Mini Monster, I still have my father.  I have a sister and a stepbrother, their spouses and one nephew from each.  I see and talk to them…well, honestly, not as often as I probably should.  Through Non Monster, I have a sister-in-law, her husband, nephews, and more assorted offspring among them than I can easily keep track of.  (It’s complicated AF to do with that family.)  We try to avoid interacting with some of them, and not without good reason.  Back on my side of the family, I have an uncle I haven’t spoken to in years for no discernible reason, and cousins of various degrees that I see and speak to only at weddings or funerals if our paths happen to cross.  And out of all of these people, the only one I can actually imagine ever trusting enough to read this blog is Mini Monster, but that day has not yet come.

Just in case you’re wondering at this point, the answer is, sadly, no.  Not even Non Monster, which is also complicated AF for me to explain.  Suffice it to say that he has never shown any more interest in my writing than he does in converting from Non Monster to Little Monster status, and after 23 years together, 22 of them married, I know better than to hold out much hope of either thing happening.  It hurts, and I don’t like it, but it is what it is.  You know?

But I’ll gladly share it with my Little Monster family.

I’ll share it with my sister who had the good sense to create our little group in the first place.  I still can’t thank her enough for that.  I’ve said it before, and I’m saying it again: I smile more when I see notifications pop up on my phone or my computer from our group than from friends I’ve known for years, or even relatives I’ve known from birth.

I’ll share it with my sister in India, whom I have never met face to face, but with whom I seem to share a (maybe slightly twisted and definitely naughty) brain.  If she wants, she can share it with her Mini Monster, who now calls me Aunty and calls my Mini Monster her “didi”, or big sister.

I’ll share it with my brother who lives in a town near ours, whose vehicle I keep watching out for on the highway we both travel on regularly, in hopes that I’ll pull up beside him one day to share a “Paws Up” out the window as I blast my Lady Gaga playlist.  And through him, I’d also share it with his wife, who is hurting from the recent loss of someone she loves dearly.

I’ll share it with my other sister on the opposite side of the US, with whom I share membership in a club that no one should ever have to join: those who have lost loved ones to suicide.

I’ll share it with still another sister in Poland, who would dearly love to meet Mother Monster (wouldn’t we all?!) and is hoping the next tour will come to a place where she can at least see her.

I’ll share it with yet another brother in the States who struggles daily, but still finds it within himself to share with us not only his great love for Lady Gaga, his vast knowledge of Gaga trivia and her unreleased songs, pictures of his awesome collection of Gaga-related stuff, and some really great tips on items to look for when we started collecting goodies for ourselves, but also his own story.  I have yet to stump him in a game of Hangman: Gaga Edition, but I refuse to give up trying, even though he conspires with Mini Monster (the little traitor) to try and stump me.  I hope he realizes that he’s never far from our thoughts, and we keep him in our prayers that things will look up for him soon and stay that way.

And I’ll share it with the rest of my Little Monster brothers and sisters if they choose to read it, those who prefer to keep to the background and comment only occasionally, if at all.  Whether it’s because you’re shy and would rather not make your presence known most of the time, or because you’re busy and haven’t had time to drop in, or for any number of other reasons…it doesn’t matter.  I love you anyway, because that’s what Gaga would do.

Now, it occurs to me that getting all sentimental like this, calling you all my brothers and sisters, might come across as just a little bit creepy since we’ve never met in person and in many cases, probably never will.  Rest assured, I’m not going to be stalking anyone or showing up unannounced at your door for dinner.  I promise.  So don’t worry.

Well…except maybe you, trivia guy.  Because our founding sister, our sister from India, Mini Monster, and I are still coming after that collection of yours someday.  Don't say we didn't warn ya.

Love and Paws up always, Little Monster family.  Until next time.