We know the comeback schedules by heart, the lyrics that tell stories we relate to, the setlists, the eras and the inside jokes through countless shows and live streams. But when that fan turns into a creative, then what? What becomes of the fan? What happens when they become a writer, a photographer, or even a promoter? The term ‘fangirl’ suddenly becomes a word we might not want to be associated with.
Is she expected to tone it down, to almost mute the real feeling and replace it with a flatter tone, almost devoid of emotions, for the sake of credibility? The desire to be taken seriously in a busy industry? Fans should be involved. Yes, professionalism matters alongside integrity, respect, and accountability, but who’s to say how one should write or sound? A general consensus is to be a writer who’s demure, to be above the fandom. And honestly, it’s such a ‘pick me’ energy that should be left in 2025. Fans know more about the artists than those who are on the outside of that bubble, not because it’s easier to write about, but because they have insight. Insight and context on how to approach the subject of the artist – it’s like a mind hub of information that they know and can pluck from. But what’s not easy is editing yourself to not sound overenthusiastic and eager.
Without sounding like Carrie Bradshaw, I couldn’t help but wonder if other creatives felt that same pressure? The question isn’t whether fans can write professionally, but more so why our passion is treated as something that needs to be toned down.
I’m sure to a degree there is a quiet pocket of doubt many writers carry, plagued by thoughts of whether they should write about artists they really admire in fear of looking biased, unserious, or worse… cringey. I for one have felt internal shame for my admiration for BTS. That is rooted in the misogynistic take that is put upon grown women. One where passion is mistaken for immaturity should be left in the yesteryears of our teenage dreams. But that is never applied to men. Their passion for sports is marketed as something else entirely. Yet for women who are fans, they should be applauded. Not only do they have to battle the misogyny on a daily basis, but they also know how to write for the audience, as they too are the audience. Girls are the backbone of the music industry; they buy the tickets, sustain chart longevity, invest much, and show fierce loyalty, support every release, and engage in meaningful conversations about the music.
However, more platforms are rising where people are creating their own opportunities to write and rise. Places like Fangirl Forward, That Fangirl Podcast, and Fan Girl Career Hub are all creating professional pathways for fan-writers, actively dismantling the stigma on professionals within the field. Instead of making them feel they must be objective, using their knowledge and enthusiasm as a strength.
So, I put the question out there and was surprised the general feeling was mutual. Even writers with experience in traditional professional environments have discovered that it is the freelance world where the issue arises. Phoebe Yao discovered that freelancing led her to question her own intuition. Even though she majored in film production and worked at a media company in Seoul, South Korea, never did she once question her integrity, explaining, “Although I worked in different roles and positions. I find that working under a company or a label, I was never questioned about my professionalism. Phoebe explains, “When I handled artist partnerships or collaborations at the media company, it felt right, and no-one ever said or mentioned anything.”
That confidence shifted when she began freelancing, even choosing to tone down her enthusiasm. Her reasoning? “Because people are quick to accuse you of being a “fangirl” and not professional enough, too biased. She adds, “I almost always question my own actions when it comes to artists or even handling public posts: ‘Am I being too much?’ Or ‘Is this ok?’ I still cannot bring myself to really define what is ‘right or wrong’ per se, and I am still trying to work through that.”
There is, however, joy in hearing that many women are tired of feeling this way and are embracing it. Isabel Miller, editor of Cherry Chu Magazine, describes her journalism as an extension of her being a fangirl. “I saw the opportunity to become an editor at Cherry Chu Magazine because I was already following the publication as a fangirl,” Isabel explains. “That was also the case with Genius Korea. I knew they were professional publications, and I held myself professionally within those spaces. But my reason for applying was always because I saw them as a place to explore being a fan in a different, more analytical way.” Her experience proves a powerful point, proving that being relatable and honest is what makes her work so authentic, and in the end, that’s what readers want. “I entered the space as a fangirl, and that’s the whole reason that I’m in K-pop journalism in the first place.” She says, “In both of my applications to the publications, talking about my social media page and openly displaying my interest in and love for K-pop is what led me to being accepted.”
She goes on to add, “Ultimately, I decided to remain openly enthusiastic about my love of my favourite artists, but there have been moments where I’ve thought about making my social media more ‘professional’, and I’ve spoken with other journalists who insist on keeping their ‘fangirling’ private.”
Zara Miller, however, takes a different approach, pondering whether she actually opts to go in the opposite direction, intentionally choosing a more critical approach. As she explains, “I’ve found myself adding a negative edge to the articles I write, just so I wouldn’t be accused of being a fangirl,” she explains.
And women creatives should take pride in being fans who have managed to stay true to their love of artists – fans who channel that passion into writing, photography, or other creative paths. That is powerful. If it’s not creating, then it’s learning to love life again or feeling comforted in the music.
Some have even gone on to start their own companies, using their own fandom knowledge as to what the fans want and deserve. As we know, we are constantly being marketed to, and ultimately some miss the mark. Jeanne, a marketing consultant for K-pop promo Timeless Notes: “For me personally, I’ve certainly become a listener and admirer of many of the people I’ve interviewed, profiled, or interacted with during my time with Timeless Notes. It’s essential for me to familiarise myself with the work and creative vision of the artists and industry professionals I write about, and I invariably find something in their art or their approach that resonates with me.
That said, I think there’s a way to show enthusiasm for the people I admire while still maintaining professionalism. I also keep in mind that their appeal and charisma are basically a day at the office for them. I see my role as helping my interview subjects broaden their audience or present themselves in a new way, so I see myself as more of a hype squad than a traditional fangirl.” She is quick to add, though, that with her own artists, she still happily cheers at shows or, as she enthusiastically puts it, “Will crash out over their songs in private!”
The bias stigma of women and boy bands persists, and honestly, it’s boring. I want to hear their voices in the pages I read, their excitement and enthusiasm sprinkled throughout the pages and paragraphs. Why do they love the band, the music, and the art? We need to be more excited in a world that is becoming more uncertain and incredibly scary by the day.
Being in my 30s navigating and still unsure how to navigate will continue but with more confidence. It’s rooted in growing up loving boybands and being labelled as superficial or shallow. But those artists have led me to incredible experiences, memories, travels, and even my best friends. It’s a feeling I truly wish everyone, regardless of gender and age, could seek out in this world. So, if it’s “cringe”, then so be it.
