I’ve defended Justin Bieber before. I’m sad to say that is increasingly difficult to do. His recent DUI arrest pretty much settles it. He’s determined not to find his way gracefully through young adulthood. It’s sad more than anything else. I was pulling for the kid. It’s hard to keep your head on straight when you’ve got millions of girls screaming over you–and millions of others claiming to hate you just as strongly. There’s not a lot of middle ground in that position; your perspective is guaranteed to be warped.
But if he has anyone in his corner trying to help him keep it together he’s clearly not listening. When you’re that successful and that rich at that young an age you’re more likely to attract enablers and sycophants than someone to keep you grounded.
I hope he can still pull up and avoid the crash. I’ve been hoping the same for Lindsay Lohan, too, though with increasingly less hope. Fame is a cruel mistress, and once you start the descent it’s evidently quite hard to pull out of it. It’s enough to make me hope to never be famous. Anonymity has its benefits. The pay’s not nearly so good, but the pressures seem to be less. And I screw up it isn’t likely to even make the local paper, let along every news source in the country–if not the world.
It’s no fun to watch someone self-destruct. I hope you find your way back, Justin. Good luck.
The real miracle, though, is that it took him this long to start self-destructing. He could still pull himself out, too.
I used to defend him and Miley Cyrus. After this year, I’ve given up.