My close personal friend just got engaged; I won’t be invited to the wedding by Aya Ballout

Recently, news broke that singer, songwriter, director, and producer, Taylor Swift, is engaged to some football player. Immediately, the Internet exploded with discourse, as everyone rushed to share their opinions on the matter. A normal reaction to an engagement between two people we don’t know personally. Some celebrated the news, congratulating her as if a trusted friend had finally found happiness. Some chose to criticize this positive reception, especially from Swift’s fans, claiming they were “too invested” or “overly excited” about the singer’s private life. While there is some truth to this observation, it overlooks the complexity of why parasocial relationships form and how they function in our lives.

Parasocial relationships have existed since the days of kings and queens, sultans and saints, yet we frame the subject as a product of the modern age, another dire consequence of social media. Like most ‘social media-based problems’, the innate desire to idolize has always existed. Humans have always been wired to idolize, mythologize, and imagine connections with people we will never meet. What has changed is the scale and accessibility we have to these people. Where once a royal procession or religious icon drew public devotion, today’s social media gives fans an almost constant line of sight into a figure’s life, exasperating these pseudo-relationships. 

It overlooks the complexity of why parasocial relationships form and how they function in our lives.

But what does this buzzword really mean? In the simplest terms, parasocial relationships, first coined by Donald Horton and Richard Wohl, are one-sided socio-emotional connections with media figures. This can range from referring to fictional characters or celebrities as ‘my close personal friend’, to feeling emotionally invested in their lives and the discourse around them. It’s real emotion, but the relationship itself is imagined. 

Whether you’re praising or trashing, you’re still tuned in.

It has been suggested that parasocial relationships can provide a form of social support, particularly for individuals who might otherwise struggle with loneliness or isolation. To have a figure to admire or feel connected to can create stability, comfort, and even motivation. During the pandemic, for instance, fans of artists and content creators often described these parasocial ties as lifelines in the absence of in-person relationships.

Yet the idea is often portrayed negatively, another repercussion of social media addiction or celebrity culture run amok. A common misconception is that people feel the same level of intimacy toward celebrities as they do toward their real friends. In reality, the emotional intensity tends to be far more symbolic and situational. Fans may cheer for Taylor Swift’s engagement or mourn the death of a fictional character, but those responses usually supplement rather than replace offline relationships.

And those criticizing celebrities and fandom culture in general are not safe upon their high horse. Presenting themselves as too intellectually superior to engage in Parasociality, their adamant resistance has landed them right where they claim they never could be. Constantly posting about how much you don’t care, for instance, dissecting Swift’s every move to mock it, or devoting time to dragging her online, is still a form of emotional investment — just framed in the negative. In other words, whether you’re praising or trashing, you’re still tuned in. 

I would be remiss to not mention the other side of the spectrum, for a pendulum will always swing two ways. The Internet is filled with examples of the extremes of devotion towards a public figure. Take, for instance, the ‘Gaylor’ subreddit where fans dissect Swift’s lyrics, outfits, and dialogue for clues about her sexuality. For some, it’s lighthearted detective work and a way to read queer identity into mainstream pop culture. For others, it veers into invasive theorizing about someone’s private life. The same structures that help fans feel seen can also encourage overreach. The mere existence of spaces like this can perpetuate the notion that fans have a right to private knowledge about an artist, as if celebrity status erases the boundaries of autonomy. In this way, admiration blurs into entitlement, revealing the fine line between connection and intrusion.

Parasocial relationships aren’t going away. They’re part of the way humans connect, magnified by technology but rooted in age-old impulses.

This tension is what makes these relationships so fascinating. On one hand, it gives people a sense of belonging and connection. On the other hand, it can foster unhealthy expectations or feed cycles of anxiety. The engagement discourse reflects this perfectly: what appears like an overreaction to one person is, for another, a way of celebrating joy alongside a figure who has been a steady presence in their life for years.

Ultimately, parasocial relationships aren’t going away. They’re part of the way humans connect, magnified by technology but rooted in age-old impulses. The question isn’t whether they’re “good” or “bad,” but how we navigate them. When they provide comfort, community, or inspiration, they’re harmless, even beneficial. When they replace real-world relationships or spiral into obsession, they become harmful.

So, when Taylor Swift gets engaged, lighting up the Internet, maybe we shouldn’t be so quick to judge. Parasocial relationships may be one-sided, but the emotions they stir are real. And while none of us will be invited to the wedding, plenty of us will still raise a glass to toast a “close personal friend” we’ve never met.