I’m Just a Fan – Part 1: Where It All Began

A little introduction before I start…

I tend to think about things. A lot. 😊

Not because everything needs to have some deeper meaning, but because I like to understand what experiences do to us – and sometimes what we do with them.

Over the past few months, I’ve found myself thinking more and more about what being a fan actually means to me.
How it started, why this particular show has stayed with me for more than three decades, how my perspective has changed as I’ve gotten older – and what happens when a world that once seemed completely unreachable suddenly doesn’t feel quite so far away anymore.

Somewhere along the way, those thoughts turned into six parts.

They’re not meant to define what being a fan should look like. This is simply my perspective and my story – including some of the questions I’ve asked myself along the way.

I wrote the first versions a while ago, put them aside, and recently came back to them. Maybe they needed that little bit of distance.
So here they are.

And it only seems fitting to start with the sentence that made me think about all of this in the first place:
“I’m just a fan.”

So… what does that actually mean?

The longer I think about that sentence, the more it seems to mean to me. Because being a fan means something different to everyone.

For some people, it means collecting autographs or going to every convention. Others follow every bit of news about their favorite show or musician. And some just keep watching the same episodes over and over again, still laughing at the same jokes decades later.

For me, being a fan mostly means one thing: genuinely caring about something. Spending time with a world that gives you something in return. Collecting memories, connecting with others when you get the chance – and simply carrying that enthusiasm with you through part of your life.

My story began in the early ’90s. I must have been around 13 when I first discovered Married… with Children. Back then, the show aired on German television on RTL – once a day at 5:30 p.m. Today, we can stream almost anything whenever we want. Back then, it was different. If you missed an episode, it was simply gone. Maybe they’d show it again someday. Maybe they wouldn’t. You had no idea. So whenever I could, I made sure I was in front of the TV on time. And when I missed an episode, I was genuinely disappointed.

I grew up in a small village of only about 800 people in eastern Germany. My everyday life was school, our house, the yard, the garden and the animals. Both of my parents worked full-time, and when they came home, there was basically another day’s worth of work waiting for them. There was always something that needed to be done. Today, I understand that very well. But back then, as a kid, I sometimes just needed a place where I could feel emotionally at home. And that’s exactly what this show became for me.

I think a lot of people know that feeling. You find a story, a piece of music or a TV show that somehow makes you feel understood in a way that’s hard to explain. I wasn’t running away from my life. But I had found a place where I could recharge. A place where I could laugh. A place where, for half an hour, everything felt a little lighter. That world became my little anchor.

I still remember my mother realizing how important the show had become to me. And I’m still grateful to her for that.
She supported my hobby. Fan books, posters, audio cassettes – little by little, all of it found its way into my room. Later, I was even allowed to record episodes on VHS. Eventually, I had nine or ten tapes on the shelf filled with Married… with Children. For the first time, I wasn’t completely dependent on the TV schedule anymore. Back then, that felt like a little bit of freedom.

I couldn’t really share this enthusiasm with my friends. They were interested in completely different shows and other things.
So Married… with Children remained, in a way, my own little world. Maybe that’s exactly why it meant so much to me.

Back then, the world behind the show seemed impossibly far away.
Without the internet, without social media and without direct access to information, everything you knew about the show or its actors came from TV reports or magazines. It felt as though there wasn’t just an ocean between my little village and that world, but an entire universe.

Of course I wanted to know more. I wanted to see the people behind the characters, hear from them, maybe even meet them someday. But back then, there seemed to be no way for that world and mine to ever meet. As a teenager, I was convinced of one thing:
I would never see any of the actors in real life. I would never speak to them. That world would always remain out of reach.
So I had the show. My VHS tapes. My posters. And this little world that had somehow become such an important part of mine.

I was just a fan.
And at 13, that had to be enough.