The Cost of Celebrity

The feelings I’ve had since I heard news of Caroline Flack’s suicide run from sorrow through to anger. And, at the outset, a real feeling of ‘there but for the grace of god.’

I cannot imagine the anguish Caroline suffered, with the pain of the incident which took place compounded by the subsequent hounding by the British media, with every detail reported and voraciously consumed by us, the public. She was deprived of anything like the privacy, time and space needed to navigate such a challenging life experience.

There’s a vicious, cruel irony that when this all occurred she was the front for a show, Love Island, which is a celebration of an idealised, picture-perfect form of human relationship which bears little relationship with reality. The truth is that we humans are flawed creatures. We make mistakes. Relationships are complex, and often riddled with dysfunction and codependency. Behaviours which are not ‘us’ but which we invariably carry, flare up most of all in our intimate relationship.

The media (and let’s face it, the rest of us) prey on peoples’ frailties and indiscretions. We delight in dwelling on other people’s imperfections, providing distraction from facing our own, and allowing no room for compassion, growth and healing for those under the spotlight.

It’s impossible to know what Caroline Flack was thinking and feeling at the time she took her life, but I imagine the prospect of facing a court case under the full glare and ridicule of the media, was simply too much to bear. Now, the finger pointing begins. Everyone is busy looking for who was to ‘blame’ for this tragedy: the media, ITV, social media etc. But this is pointless. We are all complicit.