so, back in, like... january? i was between fandoms. my most recent interest hadn't panned out in a way i found satisfying--i liked the media fine enough, but attempts to engage with the fandom largely went nowhere, and the only person i was really sharing the space with (my partner) was falling out of being super focused on it, so i ended up following suit. we both kind of just returned to being into our own OCs for a while.
there's this post i saw recently--something about how the act of your art being perceived is, for many of us, part of the process of making art. the work isn't complete until it's been acknowledged. you have worth, anon, and your work matters, but i fully understand how empty it feels to go unnoticed, to be unseen.
in february i became aware of something newer: an anime adaption for a long-running manga that wrapped up last year. (yes, it's obvious what i mean, but that's not what this post is about.) i told my partner it looked interesting, and by the end of the month we finally watched it. we'd both fallen into a creative slump post-last fandom, even with our OCs to play with; within days of starting this anime, we wanted to do things with it.
the sting of being kind of a nobody in the last space made me feel like maybe i'd be better off staying away from fandoms. it wasn't anybody's fault, after all; it just made me sad, and i was better off avoiding situations where i'd feel that way. (and obviously, in worse states of self image, such a thing can make you feel quite worthless.) i didn't intend to try and get into this fandom. the ship i liked had 11 fics on ao3, and i only ended up checking the tumblr tag because i wanted to see what fanart there was.
it was... more than i was expecting! i'd been distancing myself from tumblr, but i was captivated by all the art and posts for what seemed like a rarepair, and everyone was actually interacting with each other. i wasn't hopeful, though. i told myself i would still go unnoticed, and it would hurt all the more for glimpsing this shimmer of a community i'd love to be in. i started reblogging fanart of the ship--i went all the way back in the tag, there still wasn't that much--and followed a few people who posted about it, but i intended to sit on my hands, do my own thing and try not to expect much.
it started with one person. i'd been having some really surface level interactions with reblogs and meta posts, but i got to talking with someone about the ship, someone who was also relatively new to the fandom but already seemed to know people. i was terrified of the possibility of rejection but excited anyway; we got to talking on discord, and i even shared some of my fears, concerns that i would be a ghost in this fandom too, that my presence wouldn't matter. but talking with them gave me a little bit of hope. i started reaching out to some other regulars in the tag, and people i'd become mutuals with over the aforementioned meta posts and my own nonstop reblogging of ship content.
season one of this anime just ended. there will likely be only two of them; the second one is in production. our ship tag hit 100 fics not too long ago. people love the fic i started writing before i even finished the manga, and i have dozens of people i consider friends, several even close friends, who i met through this fandom. my partner is also in that mix, making his own work and being recognized for it, a welcome member of this community that's built up and solidified around this ship.
i understand how it feels to feel worthless. like a nobody. i have my partner, yes, and the loneliness stings less with someone at your side, but i was still lonely. i'm someone who thrives on validation and community. i wanted a space where people would value what i had to say, and the things i posted, and i had no idea how to make that happen.
it started with one person. ao3cotd is right about that. they're also right about how you should treat yourself--you have to be more gentle, and understand that you're not flawed for not being seen. fandoms are big places. sometimes people fall through the cracks, and it hurts and it sucks, but it's not because there's something wrong with you. you're not a loser; you're a fan, same as everyone else, and you belong in these spaces as much as anyone else does.
you can find your people. i turned 29 this year and this is the first time i've ever felt this involved in a fandom space that made me feel this valued. i've been in other good ones, though, and even there, it started with one person, one hesitantly posted fic, one enthusiastic meta post. you have to exist before people can find you. and they will find you, rarepair or unpopular character or otherwise. but you have to take a step out into that direction first.
don't give up. you have value, as a person and a writer and a fan, and you can do this.
