I have a confession to make; in times of stress, I go down internet rabbit holes to distract from my pending tasks. Yes, it’s not a dirty secret but I’m not proud to admit I spent two hours of my life reading into ‘The WizardLiz’ and Landon situation.
For those who don’t indulge the way I do, The WizardLiz is an online coach for women. She creates content on topics such as detachment, relationships, and financial planning. While I’m not a fan of her content, millions of young women are (5.5 million followers on Instagram), and one glance at their comments reveal that her followers genuinely look up to her for advice—they put her on a pedestal and take her teachings as gospel.
Not everyone shares this perspective. Some have likened Liz to a female version of Andrew Tate, as she proudly teaches women and young girls how to ‘manipulate’ men for financial gain. To cut a long story short, Landon, her husband, was recently exposed for cheating on Liz while she was pregnant—and this threw the internet into a frenzy.
This got me thinking, why did millions of people collectively decide Liz was the ultimate guru for relationships? Actually, why do people want to be told what to do so badly that they turn to an online stranger for advice?
Think about the millions of videos on TikTok and Instagram from self-proclaimed dating ‘gurus’, lifestyle coaches, online tarot card and astrology readers, are their prevalence and popularity not rooted in our desire for someone—anyone—to tell us what to do with ourselves and give us a label to patch over our uncomfortable feelings?
Perhaps you think this is absurd, but let’s discuss astrology as an example of this idea. A 2014 article by Hamilton posits that people turn to astrology as a coping mechanism, as it helps make sense of difficult situations. Essentially, it turns a horse into a car. It reduces complex, living situations into lifeless systems, making it easier to control.
Here are some actual comments I’ve head from astrology tiktok:
“Oh, you don’t know if he likes you back? Well, he’s a Taurus and they tend to rush into things, so if he isn’t giving you that energy, then he probably just isn’t into you.”
“I’m going to explain to you exactly when and how you will meet your soulmate.”
“If you have been crying or depressed this week, it’s because we are in eclipse season.”
Suddenly, a situation that seemed obtuse has an explanation. He’s not texting you back? Well, it’s because he’s a Taurus. You can’t find a partner? It’s because it isn’t your time yet. You’ve been feeling sad? Blame the moon.
While these astrology videos may be comforting for those who are feeling lost, a bandage over a festering wound does not make it heal.
And so, we turn to those we perceive to be more competent to make that decision for us. We consult others before we make a decision so we could sidestep the responsibilities that come with those choices. For instance, ghosting someone online becomes less shitty because a tik tok creator said, “you don’t owe them anything”, or you decide to pull away from someone because that person is not meeting the signs in a ‘10 signs he likes you’ video.
The burden of fault isn’t yours to carry because it technically wasn’t your decision—someone else told you to do it. You might have pulled the trigger, but you didn’t load the gun. Think about all those times you’ve consulted someone before making a decision, whether it was about the little things like clothing choices or serious issues. If you’re like me, you’ll find that it’s almost become second nature to consult someone.
But why? Why is it so normalised for us to ask others before making a decision of our own volition? I’d say it comes from a place of fear—feelings are uncomfortable, and it can be scary to make a decision because…what if you made the wrong choice?
It brings me back to this monologue from Fleabag, where she speaks about this very phenomenon:
“I want someone to tell me what to wear in the morning. No, I want someone to tell me what to wear every morning. I want someone to tell me what to eat. What to like. What to hate. What to rage about. What to listen to. What band to like. What to buy tickets for. What to joke about. What not to joke about. I want someone to tell me what to believe in. Who to vote for and who to love and how to…tell them. I just think I want someone to tell me how to live my life, Father, because so far, I think I’ve been getting it wrong. And I know that’s why people want someone like you in their lives, because you just tell them how to do it. You just tell them what to do and what they’ll get out of the end of it, even though I don’t believe your bullshit and I know that scientifically nothing that I do makes any difference in the end, anyway, I’m still scared. Why am I still scared? So just tell me what to do. Just fucking tell me what to do, Father.”
I come back to this scene time and time again and it comforts me. It is hard to be in control of our life because we can always make a stupid choice, and the lesson and pain that follows as a result of our choice is only ours to bear.
But there comes a point where we have to confront ourselves: do we really want to be told what to do or are we just scared?
