The Fame Monster

Memba Ben By Memba Ben, 15th Apr 2018 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Personal Experiences

A time I got a taste of fame and let it go to my head

For some, the need to be recognized can never be satiated.

For a little over a year, I ran a music podcast which focused on independent artists. I didn’t have any ambitions to become famous (or so I thought); I just wanted to try it out and see how it went.

I initially posted the links to the shows online for my friends to critique and give pointers on where I could improve but to my surprise, I found that more and more people were tuning in and the listener count grew with each episode. While it wasn’t earth shattering numbers (I ended the show having a grand total of four hundred and nineteen subscribers), it meant a lot to someone such as myself that there were people who were actually enjoying what I was doing.

It might have started as a hobby but in time, I grew to love every second of it because of the self-empowerment it gave me. It might not seem like it but before all of this, I wasn’t the most sociable person and preferred to keep to myself. I just wasn’t comfortable expressing myself to such a large extent which probably boiled down to some self-esteem issues but the whole experience allowed me to find belief in myself and gain the confidence and personal development I never had as it challenged me to constantly keep proactive, think up new ideas which stimulated me and in turn, made me believe in my abilities.

But above all else, those four hundred and nineteen subscribers gave me something that I never knew I needed: The feeling of importance. The fact that there were people who never met me but knew of me and took the time to download and listen to my podcast gave me some inflated sense of self-worth.

So this is what fame feels like…Not bad.

The whole thing was feeding my personal desire for fame and honestly, I was enjoying it. However, like all good things in life, it unfortunately came to an end. Life moved on and I while I never forgot the experience, it went to the back of my mind as other things took priority.

While I loved the idea of being known, it was probably for the best that I didn’t blow up as I don’t think I would’ve handled it well. I mean, if having a listener count of four hundred and nineteen people had me delusional, what would I do if I had millions?

Fast forward to a year.

I was over the podcast and had moved on to other things. From time to time, I’d think back and reminisce over the experience but it wasn’t to say that I missed it; I’d say that it was a fond look back with a sense of pride to what I’d achieved.

On one random day, a friend and I had formed part of a queue in a shop and while talking, some random lady politely interrupted.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to bother but I couldn’t help but say that your voice sounds familiar. I’m sure I’ve heard your voice before.”


The fame monster was back.

I didn’t want to out myself (that would’ve looked desperate) but at the same time, I didn’t want to remain unknown. I wanted people to know who I am. Unsurprisingly, that thirst for attention led me to handle the situation with the subtlety of a bull in a china shop.

In what was probably the stupid thing I had ever done, I switched from my normal voice to my podcast voice with the hope that she’d pick up the hint. My friend (who knew about my podcasting days) shot a look of disbelief in my direction as if to say:

Really bra, are you actually doing this?

But I didn’t care. He wouldn’t understand.
He was never famous.

I threw out a couple of phrases I regularly used on the podcast to give her some sort of idea but it seemed to draw a blank.

“I just can’t place it but I’m sure I’ve heard your voice somewhere…”

I wasn’t giving up hope. It had been a long while since I’d felt important and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass up.

“Tell me Ma’am, where would you have heard my voice?”
“I can’t quite remember but it’s distinct and I know I’ve heard it before.”
“Perhaps on TV or radio or-“

Her eyes lit up and the expression on her face changed to one of realization.

“That’s it. You must be that guy!”

My eyes lit up and in turn, a smirk formed on my face.
Fucking finally.

“Yes Ma’am, I am in fact-“
“Weren’t you that help desk consultant that helped me with my internet connection?”


If looks could kill, that lady would’ve died that day. My friend burst out in uncontrollable laughter as I gave the lady the death stare.

I just stood there in utter disbelief. For a good couple of minutes, the whole interaction with the lady had me picturing myself back where I used to be and on the ascend to stardom but those fleeting picturesque moments were torn apart and my dreams of meeting adoring fans and reliving my fame weren’t playing the way I thought they would.

I was struggling to accept that.
Then, I felt anger and humiliation.

“Man, I can’t believe you Ma’am. How are you just going to stand there and do me dirty like that, asking such questions? You have no shame whatsoever lady!”

And without saying more, I stormed out of the store, leaving my friend behind.

Truth be told, the lady didn’t deserve my temper tantrum. It was all misplaced anger and it showed that I wasn’t as over the podcast as I thought I was.
I just…I just couldn’t believe how she lead me on with such blatant disrespect. Opening up old wounds and such.

I mean, doesn’t she know who I am?


Fame, Fame And Notoriety, Personal Experience, Personal Experiences

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author avatar Memba Ben
A fan's view on the business of football.

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