to be cringe is to be free: a dive into KStew, JLaw, and the Weird Girl Industrial Complex

Hi cuties! I've noticed that Twilight is having its yearly Fall resurgence, and as an OG Twi-Hard from the late '00s it always makes me happy to see the series getting some love. I thought about writing a post about the Twilight Renaissance in general, but my heart compelled me to talk about something else: my teenage self's personal beef with Jennifer Lawrence, and the art of being a “weird girl.”

Bear with me.

Picture this: It's 2008, and I'm out of state visiting my grandmother with my mom during Thanksgiving break. I glance at the TV and see a trailer for a new movie coming out that week: Twilight. I'm immediately intrigued, having fallen in love with Robert Pattinson at first sight, and tell my mom I NEED to see it in theaters. My sweet mother, who always supported whatever weird media obsession my heart happened to latch onto, obliges and takes me to the local AMC to see it on the big screen.

I leave that theater a changed woman girl.

I dive headfirst into the books, merch, posters, internet forums, and everything else the fandom has to offer. Was I a little too young to be so deep in the fandom? Sure. But Twilight was taking over the world, and I was part of the revolution.

Naturally, my obsession extended to the cast, particularly the two leads: Robert Pattinson (Team Edward 4eva <3) and Kristen Stewart. Being a Rob fan was easy, but being a Kristen fan was a little trickier.

During the Twilight era, Kristen received a ridiculous amount of hate. People criticized her acting skills, complained about her personality (or supposed lack thereof), and generally considered her off-putting. But fans like me who ventured outside of Twilight knew the claims that she was a bad actress weren't entirely fair. She gave great performances in other films (I love Speak, both the book and the movie!), and a lot of the criticism seemed to stem from the way Bella herself was written and scripted. Maybe Kristen wasn't everyone's ideal Bella, but that didn't make her a bad actress, let alone a bad person deserving of all that vitriol.

But part of the reason I was so defensive of Kristen was that I found her relatable.

She was awkward and fidgety. She stuttered when she talked, struggled with eye contact, and sometimes made jokes that were met with uncomfortable laughter. As someone who struggled with social skills from a young age and spent a lot of time in her room as a nerdy introvert, I saw a little bit of myself in her. She wasn't effortlessly charming or universally likable, and I understood what it felt like to be the girl who didn't quite know how to act around other people.

Fast-forward to 2012. As the Twilight series winds down, The Hunger Games franchise is picking up speed. Jennifer Lawrence is stepping into the spotlight as Katniss Everdeen, and while Kristen is still the internet's punching bag, Jennifer quickly becomes its darling.

Jennifer was different. She was loud and bubbly, constantly putting her foot in her mouth, and always talking about being a tomboy who loved farting and pizza. She was clumsy in an oh-so-charming way, made funny faces, and seemed to be a walking meme before that was even a full-time job.

At first, I laughed along with all the JLaw derp faces. But eventually, I started getting irritated, and it took me a minute to figure out why her constant presence in the media bothered me so much.

Then it hit me: She was cool weird. Kristen was not.

Jennifer was the life of the party, while Kristen gave off the vibe of the girl standing in the corner, not talking to anyone. And I wanted to scream, “But Kristen is funny, too! Her humor is just drier. She's not great at interviews and is clearly anxious, and that's okay! Give her a chance, and you'll see she's cool, too!”

Now that I'm older and (hopefully) wiser, I understand why I took the hate directed at Kristen so personally: I was projecting my own social struggles onto her. It was frustrating to watch society embrace Jennifer's brand of weirdness as cool, laugh along with her antics, and declare her #relatable, while Kristen was ridiculed for her lack of social grace.

I mean, why was it funny when Jennifer fell at the Oscars, but people rolled their eyes when Kristen dropped her award at the MTV Movie Awards?

I think this all ties into the rise of the “adorkable” girl in the 2010s. You know the type: she's quirky, a little clumsy, says whatever pops into her head, and is just so random! She's not like other girls, and that's what makes her special. Think Zooey Deschanel in New Girl, Rapunzel in Tangled, Anna in Frozen, or, of course, Jennifer Lawrence during her press tours. Suddenly, being a little weird was in, and women who didn't fit the mold of traditional femininity had a new way to be desirable, likable, and marketable.

But there was a catch: Your weirdness had to be cute.

The adorkable girl was allowed to be awkward, but only in ways that made other people smile. She could trip over her own feet, make a self-deprecating joke, or talk about her love of junk food, but she still had to be charming enough to win everyone over. Her awkwardness was endearing, never uncomfortable. Her quirks were entertaining, never off-putting. And God forbid she be too quiet, too serious, or too visibly anxious. That kind of weird didn't sell as well.

Looking back, that's what bothered me so much about the difference in how Jennifer and Kristen were received. Jennifer's public persona fit neatly into the adorkable archetype. She was funny, expressive, and charismatic, and her clumsiness became part of her charm. Kristen, on the other hand, didn't seem interested in performing likability. She could be reserved, visibly uncomfortable, sarcastic, or seemingly disengaged, and people took that as a personal offense. One woman's awkwardness was a delightful personality trait; the other's was a character flaw.

And this wasn't just a celebrity thing. I think a lot of us grew up learning that there was a “right” way to be weird. You could be the quirky girl who made everyone laugh, but being the girl who struggled to make eye contact for more than a couple seconds at a time or couldn't think of what to say in a conversation was a different story. You could be eccentric, as long as you were still socially palatable. You could be different, as long as other people enjoyed watching you be different.

The thing is, not every weird girl is going to be the life of the party. Some of us are awkward in ways that don't make for a cute anecdote or a viral interview clip. Some of us are quiet, anxious, overly earnest, or prone to saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Sometimes we don't have a witty comeback ready, and sometimes our attempts at humor just don't land. That doesn't make us any less interesting or deserving of kindness.

That's why teenage me was so determined to defend Kristen Stewart. I wasn't just defending an actress I liked; I was defending the idea that you didn't have to be charming to deserve a little grace. You didn't have to make your awkwardness entertaining for other people to accept you.

But we're now more than a decade removed from that era, and a lot has changed. Jennifer has experienced her own rounds of internet backlash, Kristen has become an Oscar-nominated actress, and there's more room for conversations about the unrealistic expectations placed on women in the public eye. Both women were thrust into the spotlight at remarkably young ages and expected to navigate the pressures of fame while the internet picked apart their every move. Neither was ever going to please everyone, and perhaps that's part of the point.

I've also seen more criticism of the adorkable trope that dominated so much of 2010s pop culture, along with more nuanced discussions about what it actually means to be a “weird girl.” We're getting better at recognizing that quirkiness isn't a personality you can package and sell, and that there's power in authenticity. At least, I'd like to think we are.

Maybe that's what I wish I could tell my teenage self, sitting in her room and getting unnecessarily heated over celebrity interviews: You don't have to be Jennifer Lawrence to be worthy of being liked. You don't have to be the funniest person in the room, have a perfectly timed comeback, or turn your quirks into a performance for other people. You can be the quiet girl in the corner. You can be a little uncomfortable, a little misunderstood, and still be someone worth knowing.

Because being a weird girl shouldn't mean learning how to make your weirdness more palatable to everyone else. It should mean getting to be yourself, even when other people don't quite get it.

And if that's not cool, then I don't know what is.

TTYL,

Eryn <3