My best friend would have been….34 today, I think. We met when I was 4 and she was 7. She lived around the block from me, we had our ups and downs for sure, but she was my best friend in the entire world.

Whenever I think of her, I can’t not think of that series we no longer name. Cause it was her special interest. To an extent that I can’t even comprehend, even to this day. Every single wall of her room was covered in fanart and magazine articles from the books and movies and fans alike. Most of the music she listened to was wizard rock (though there was some classic rock, musicals, and lilith fair women too.)

I remember when the 7th book came out, she dressed up to go get it at midnight, we drove her. By the time I woke up the next morning, she had not only read it, but read it three times and was already on the forums dissecting every single moment.

That world and that story was something that connected us.

She died of Neurofibromatosis in 2017.

I instantly bought everything I could, everything with snowy owls and sand timers and letters and lions, anything and everything to continue to keep her alive.

She was the biggest reader I knew and about to start school to become a librarian (which, at the time I did not think was nearly as cool as I do now. I wish she knew how much time I spend on LibraryTok, how many of my friends are librarians — maybe it’s because of her).

We were writing this really complicated queer fanfic in the fandom together. It was my first time ever writing fanfiction and it was truly magical, to take this world that we both loved so much and use it to create our own story.

And then after she died, the world learned the truth, and when we did, some part of me was so glad she wasn’t here anymore, cause I genuinely don’t know if she would have survived losing that. Her fianceé was trans, I watched her queer journey for years and I think it might have still legitimately broken her.

But even with my history with that story and that author. Even with it being one of the only tethers I had left to her, I could not love it anymore. I gave my books to my dad. I haven’t read fanfics or watched the movies since, haven’t touched a single adaptation, and I instantly gave away all my merch.

The point is, if I can do it, so can you.

It’s hard. It’s scary to give up something that affected my life so completely, but I had to.

I mean that author is personally responsible for causing so much pain and anguish and struggle in the UK and around the world. She is like the American Christian Nationalists going to African countries to convince them homosexuality is evil, except her specialty is transphobia.

And it doesn’t even stop there. I never noticed her stories were antisemitic as a kid, or racist, but obviously they are, obviously it’s there, I was just too blinded by the feeling of belonging the fandom created single-handedly.

It was such a safe space for queer kids and those who didn’t know yet that they were queer. She created a world for those she hated and still does.

I can’t be part of that. It’s not just that she’s a bad person, it’s that she’s actively working to destroy the world and compassion as we speak. This isn’t in the past this is our present and future.

She’s alive, and she’s destructive right now, as you’re reading this.

It’s not like other shitty authors who did shitty things in the past. Reading their work doesn’t harm more people today.

Reading her work, giving her breath and energy LITERALLY empowers her to be more evil.

So it doesn’t matter that it’s hard for me to remember my friend sometimes. And it doesn’t matter that that was the biggest thing we shared, because the lives of trans people matters more.

And who knows, maybe she would have survived the devastation. Maybe it would have just strengthened her resolve to be loud and active and unapologetically queer. I wish I had a chance to find out.

Alanna, I love you and miss you. I can’t believe it’s been nine years. I think you’d love who I am now. I wish I got to know who you would have become too.