#ThinkAboutItThursday 💕 One Direction

I know what you’re thinking… 

"Ah here we go again, another one of they crazy fans writing another crazy post about that stupid boy band"


"Oh here we go again, another hater who's just going to slander our boys"

Well actually, I’m calling you out because here’s a post that isn’t hate and isn’t a crazy fanatic sobbing over the “break up”.

So, let’s start this post again shall we?

When I was 13 I was obsessed with the X Factor. My dad would get super annoyed because he hated Simon Cowell and everything the man stood for (he was a song writer and believed that Simon’s billion-pound shows were a complete mockery and insult to everyone working in the music industry – or trying to.) and so it would cause quite an uproar on a Saturday night; he’d want to watch a film and I’d go in huffs and mood-swings until we’d watch the X Factor.

2010 was no exception, and I found myself watching the soon-to-be One Direction lads auditioning for the first (And in Liam Payne’s case – second) time in complete awe. As usual I have my loves when I watch the auditions. I pick out the ones I adore and the ones I hate. I can’t remember whose audition it was that didn’t make the cut for the Saturday night audition programmes on the TV, but I remember watching Harry Styles and Niall Horan and Liam Payne and thinking “yes, yes, yes!” For the record I also fell immediately in love with Matt Cardle and Aidan Grimshaw that year and actually called at the audition stages that either Aidan or Matt would win.

I, like so many other 13-16yo out there, fell madly in love with One Direction and would obsess over seeing their faces every Saturday night. It broke my heart when they didn’t win and was actually in my bed for two days straight when they got kicked off at the last bloody hurdle.

Now, before you jump in with all guns blazing tell me how much of a freak I am or whatever – I have a legitimate reason as to why I was so madly in love and obsessed with the boyband.

My momma and dad were going through a massive break up and for reasons I’m not going to post in this article; my entire world was turned upside down. One Direction became the only thing I knew. At that time I lost myself, my friends, my dad, my brother, my sister, my aunts and uncles; everything. I wasn’t at school for days at a time and I was handing in work days after deadlines. I was 13 so this wasn’t a big deal as such.

So, One Direction became my rock. My dad was around when they were first introduced – and then all hell broke loose and I lost everything. And so, they were the only thing that felt mundane to me. My entire life was falling apart; and yet there they were, same old boys, same faces, staring back at me, every Saturday night, on TV, singing songs I loved. It was a routine to me. And when the X Factor finished; I was heartbroken. I took to Twitter, made an account, and have followed them ever since.

However, back when I was younger it was far more intense, don’t get me wrong, and simply for the fact that it had to be. They were my life; my rock. They helped me through the hardest time of my life, literally, and I felt like I owed it to them to give them unconditional love and support. Not only that, but I did bloody love them a huge amount.

You may scoff, or laugh, or insult me or whatever the hell you want to do; but I was 13 and everything was upside down in my life except for this one freakin’ boyband who just so happened to be on my TV every weekend.

Maybe, if it was a punk metal TV show I would’ve latched onto some artist on that. Or, maybe if Eminem had a reality TV show I would’ve became obsessed with him too. Who knows, but all I have to show is that during my time of heartache One Direction were there for me when literally nobody else was.

That is the fact.

Choke on it if you want, I really don’t care.

And so for four years solidly I worshiped the ground they walked on. I stalked them online and in papers and magazines and on TV. I sat up to 1am, 2am, 3am on school nights to watch them abroad or in the states on different live shows only to fall asleep in classes the next day.

I camped for three fucking days
in the Scottish weather
to get tickets to their
first and second tours.

Yes, this did happen. TWICE. (I am a muppet, I am aware of this, there is no need to point it out, I’m going to get it tattooed on my forehead one of these days.)

And I stalked them through my city when they came here on tour, so that I could meet them. (Yes this did happen, see below.) I was the definition of a fangirl; I made new friends and because I’m Scottish and so is everyone else in the city that I live in, I made my fair share of bloody enemies too, because not one 1D fan can put their hand on their heart and say that all fans are nice to each other because that is a lie. Scottish fans eat each other for fucking breakfast, they’re so rude. And yes, I am one of them, and yes, I am rude too, but that’s only because I’ve had my fair share of slaps in the face and I know when to quit being taken for a fool.

(You genuinely wouldn’t believe I’m talking about being a boyband’s bloody fan, would you? Sometimes, it’s like you’re a fan of a bloody nuclear weapon, I swear to G.)

But then, when I was about 17, everything changed. I started waking up to the fact that they really didn’t give a toss about us. I realised that their music wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and I began to feel betrayed. Here I was, a little fan who’d spent all of my pocket money on phone-calls voting for them when they were on the X Factor; who had spent all of my pocket money buying ink to print out pictures before there were any posters to hang on my walls. And there were the Americans; girls who were out walking in the streets and thought that the 1D boys looked a little familiar and thought they’d snap a few pictures. And then, they cracked America, and then, they gave them meet & greets and countless tour-dates whereas my city only got 1. AND IT’S IN THE FUCKING UK WHERE THEY FUCKING BEGAN.

So, as you can tell, I became enraged and I felt betrayed. At first I kept telling myself; you know, it’s not as though they have full control over where they go and what they do. But then I paused and listened to my momma and realised she was right (as she always is) – they have a say in things. Of course they have a say in things. Every celebrity and star and artist and whoever has a say in what they do, when they do it and where they bloody do it. One Direction were no exception, and that’s when I began to lose interest, which is sad.

I grew up, and they were no longer able to pull the wool over my eyes.

Now that doesn’t mean to say I stopped loving them, because there’s no way there’ll ever come a point when I don’t love them; simply for the aforementioned fact that they fucking saved me. It just means I grew up and found additional loves, and became less and less obsessed. To the point where I don’t jump any time I hear their name; I don’t so much as blink. I’m not as interested as what I was before, and now that I think of it I’m saddened by that. Because they were a huge part of my life for so so long, and it’s sad because I’m growing up and I’m losing that part of what made me young and naive.

But, we all grow up at some point?

Which is where I reach my pause for the post.

Everything I’ve just said; we all go through it; it’s inevitable. Well, this is exactly what’s happening with One Direction themselves. They’ve never liked the music they’ve made for us; they’ve never liked their look or their style, and you don’t have to be a first-year-psychology-student to see that in their body language; you just have to be logical and observant.

This “break” or “split” or “hiatus” or whatever the hell you want to call it; is One Direction growing up. It’s them finding their feet in the world, as we all do. It’s their “gap year” between high school and university; university and the rest of their lives.

Their doing the things they’ve never had the chance to do; just like I’m finding the music I’ve never had a chance to love – because I’ve never had the love to give before.

So, don’t get angry or upset or worried. Because it’s all a part of growing up.

Yes, it’s scary, yes it’s sad, yes it’s nostalgic. But it’s life. And we all have to do it in our own ways at some point in time, whether we like it or not.

I was robbed of my childhood at a young age; but I had my teenhood for a lot of years; which I let go when I let go of 1D two years ago. I love them, and I always will because regardless as to what has happened or what people say; they make me smile.

Roll with it; let them live their lives. They’re not going anywhere; they’re not going to another planet where we’ll never see them again. They’re still Niall Horan and Harry Styles and Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson; they’re still them. We’ll still see them on TV and online and in magazines; probably more now that they’re pursuing different things. So take an interest and grow up with them.

And if they get back together; we’ll still be there for them. We’ll just be older and we’ll laugh and smile at the memories, and get excited and happy over the new ones; cause let’s be honest; they’re not going away for any length of time to not come back with new things.

I mean, can you imagine a twenty-something photoshoot? (I’m imagining a lot of facial hair and tattoos and smile-lines and leather.)

Right now they’re too perfect; they need to go out and get some creases and wrinkles and wear-and-tear from the world so we can love them as a man-band. Although, if they come back looking like how the Rolling Stones or Rod Stewart do now, I won’t be best pleased. But I’ll roll with it any way because they’ll still be them.

Just, think about it, will you? Think about the growing up and the getting older and the taking time out for yourself. Yes, I have been talking about a personal point of view as well as a 1D public point of view. Take the courage of 1D and get out there and live your life.

Do not quote "YOLO" at me or I will disband my account.

With much love and care and smiles and cuddles to all my fellow 1D fans, B xo
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