How Do We Talk About Suffering?

Gypsy Rose, Stan Culture, and Regurgitating Tragedy in the Name of Spectacle

There is no human, animal, or inanimate object too innocuous, too unusual, or too far-fetched for the internet to make an idol out of. Mainstream audiences know all too well the overnight success of palatable, Ellen Show-friendly characters like Alex from Target, Mason Ramsey, and someone called “Selfie Kid.” The internet devoted itself to the late gorilla Harambe of the Cincinnati Zoo in 2016. Unpeel one more layer of the internet and you’ll find fan cams devoted to various personalities, including Kendall Roy, the hot dads from Twilight, and the Himalayas (yes, the mountain range). Look even more inward and things get even more interesting - people online become increasingly unfiltered, naturally. A recent, unexpected star of these fan-made edits is one Gypsy Rose Blanchard.

An Instagram post from Gypsy Rose Blanchard

The true crime genre of media has captured the internet’s fascination vehemently in the past decade or so. Stories that once thrived on late-night broadcast shows like Dateline are now flourishing on true crime podcasts and Netflix docu-series. Old and new tragedies are hashed and rehashed. Crimes are solved and resolved. Material that’s been long mulled over is recycled and made anew to wring out every drop of engagement. Gypsy’s case offers viewers a uniquely intimate look at a crime that would otherwise be distantly picked through like any other old murder on someone’s TikTok feed. Gypsy is both a survivor and perpetrator in her situation and is running to the internet with a kind of open spirit that the internet isn’t shy to latch onto.

Gypsy is a victim of what’s popularly known as Munchausen syndrome by proxy (otherwise known as “factitious disorder,” imposed on another). Her mother, Clauddine “Dee Dee” Blanchard convinced Gypsy and their community members that Gypsy had an array of medical conditions that she didn’t actually possess, including leukemia, muscular dystrophy, and epilepsy. Gypsy’s head was shaved, she was bound to a wheelchair, given a feeding tube, and fed an assortment of other medications and treatments that she didn’t need, all under Dee Dee’s rule. She was also subject to physical abuse, while Dee Dee collected fraudulent donations from various aid organizations. Seeing no way out, Gypsy and her boyfriend Nicholas Godejohn devised a plan to murder Dee Dee so Gypsy could be free. After committing the act in 2015, Nicholas Godejohn was sentenced to life for first-degree murder, and Gypsy was sentenced to ten years for second-degree murder - she served about eight years. She was released from prison on December 23, 2023.

Gypsy has received a rather warm reception from supporters, many of whom are expressing their congratulations on release in distinctly online ways. This includes making fan cams of her to popular songs (including this one set to WAP) and the typical stan proclamations in comments sections (“Slay queen!” “Ate!” etc.). Jax Preyer writes that the phrase “slay mother!”, littered around her comments section is a tongue-in-cheek way to refer to the actual slaying of her mother, as well as a means to further elevate her to icon status.

In response, Gypsy has promoted several upcoming projects of hers, including The Prison Confessions of Gypsy Rose Blanchard, a three-part Lifetime docu-series, and the e-book Released: Conversations on the Eve of Freedom, published by Penguin Random House. She’s appeared on several talk shows and podcasts and has asserted her intention to advocate. In one of her recent Instagram posts, she explains the purpose behind her social media presence: to spread awareness about Munchausen syndrome by proxy, kicking off a conversation via Instagram Reels, and alluding to the additional videos that are to follow.

A screenshot of Gypsy’s Instagram comments section

Broadening conversations about exploitation and abuse to the larger public is a noble pursuit after what Gypsy has experienced. Her actions likely have tangible benefits for others, one of which is undoubtedly raising awareness to prevent the spread of further misconduct. At the same time, it seems as though the larger the stage, the greater the odds are that a situation transforms from a meaningful point of connection into a spectacle - largely because of the public’s response. 

We, as a culture, have grown increasingly comfortable discussing matters that were once considered taboo, that were once too quickly swept under the rug on the principle of politeness. This may be, in part, a result of seeing far more vivid and wide-ranging stories airing on television and far more graphic video clips being broadcasted in the news, but it’s most definitely also because of how our discussions of suffering and mental health online have evolved.

Online communities are useful places for people to dissect highly publicized and highly niche true crime cases, as well as discuss their own personal traumas. People exchange tales through the social buffer of a screen, which provides a level of distance from others’ dilemmas, as well as their own. This perceived distance can embolden one to be vulnerable - comfortable divulging details about their life that they may not otherwise reveal offline. Terms and concepts heard in therapy and in movies are exchanged and amplified on one’s platform, all in the name of helping others and oneself. 

This social buffer can also cause one to shy away from traditional expressions of sensitivity, instead, making light of their unsavory circumstances via memes. People are compelled to make off-hand jokes about personal horrors they’ve experienced themselves, spurring others to make similar jokes. They poke fun at their own “childhood trauma” with a “sparkle” emoji outlining the words, alongside a slew of other ironic icons. Others are inspired to join in on the fun, swapping their own struggles in the sparkle brackets like a Mad Libs. The point: anything goes for certain topics online. When discussing large- and small-scale personal hardships, one can be serious or silly, or both in the same breath. They can be lighthearted and they can be austere. Behind the veneer of a screen, politeness and sweeps under rugs are no longer compulsory.

A screenshot of a TikTok user joking about their childhood trauma

I’ve witnessed the many benefits of having open discussions about mental health and personal adversity online. People can feel less alone in their struggles, they can learn how to support a friend going through a rough patch. As with internet lingo and Pinterest micro-trends, how we interact with one another online inevitably bleeds into our lives offline. Otherwise emotionally challenging heart-to-hearts with friends about past trauma are now also ridden with giggles and quick quips. It seems as though young people are quite comfortable opening up with one another and discussing the hard stuff as much as they discuss the fun stuff. There isn’t always a reason for the line between sincerity and whimsy to be harshly bolded.

There is sensitivity and honesty woven into humor that is quite cathartic to lean into. However, I wonder if our comfort in laughing off our struggles can partially shield us from truly listening to others, as well as experiencing our whole feelings - whether that’s grief, sadness, anger, or genuine compassion for another person. Of course, we can all feel these things and express them differently. But, particularly when communicated through a screen, there is an additional veneer - an added layer of distance - that jokes foster in certain contexts. Being comfortable making light of our own struggles doesn’t necessarily give us the green light to pick apart those of another person. Especially when we don’t take care to shed light on any nuance, instead, stripping one’s situation down to “slay, mother,” in a comments section for a quick dopamine hit.

One of my favorite films of 2023 was Todd Haynes’ May December, which follows an actress preparing to portray Gracie Atherton-Yoo, a woman infamous for her decades-long marriage with a man twenty-three years her junior - their relationship began when he was thirteen. The film’s messaging is incredibly rich, but one of the themes that stuck out to me most revolves around our culture’s obsession with discussing the suffering of others, even at the expense of the victim’s comfort. We become obsessed with replicating the actions of a monster and their prey onscreen for our own pleasure, and award the actors according to their approximation to the real people (see also: Dahmer – Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story by Ryan Murphy). The characters in May December are fictional, but the story is inspired by a real relationship between Mary Kay Letourneau and her sixth-grade student Vili Fualaau. Fualaau, now forty years old, told The Hollywood Reporter that he was offended by not being approached by filmmakers before the film was shot. “If they had reached out to me, we could have worked together on a masterpiece," he says. “Instead, they chose to do a ripoff of my original story.”

In the name of entertainment, we’re quick to blur the lines between reality and fantasy, depending on what provides us with the most gratification. Like moths drawn to bright light, spectacle has a way of drawing us in. We’ll find spectacle in the most unlikely places if we desire to - even if it means digging up hatchets that have long been buried again and again. Simultaneously, social media platforms have become a kind of catch-all for all conversations - whether it’s discussing the plot of a TV show, a real-life story of parental abuse, or what we ate for breakfast. As such, we’ve undoubtedly developed a way of flattening the tone and distance in which we talk about various matters. We often have a similar level of sensitivity when discussing fictional characters and real people who have suffered atrocities. 

We don’t have to throw our sense of humor out with the bathwater (I too consider Gypsy Rose an icon of sorts). But we may benefit from also adopting a level of sensitivity that doesn’t discard one’s humanity in the name of engagement. When it comes to discussions of human suffering - and human “stanning” - I think it makes the most sense to lead with the “human.”

Still of Natalie Portman and Julianne Moore in May December (2023)

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For more on similar topics and Gypsy’s case, in particular, I highly recommend this great article by

Jax Preyer

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