Skip to main content

Love Yourself By Hating Others

Not long ago I had it all. Career success, money and a boyfriend who was easy to manipulate because he was less attractive than me. Life was good, but I was lonely at the top. I had no friends, and typically this wouldn't have bothered me but social media was becoming intrinsic to business, and I needed to look popular to elevate my brand. Less talented people than me were further ahead than me because they were really good at being fake and I figured if those embarrassments can ingratiate themselves to industry gatekeepers so can I. So I took action and decided to become a social climber.

Hannah Hogan, comedian, wife, liar
Hannah Hogan, life coach, and perpetually unsatisfied social climber.
I first saw Sheryl when she was on stage performing stand up, and I was immediately gripped with jealousy. I didn't laugh at any of her jokes because she wasn't funny but also because I was distracted by the fact that she was new in town and was on a show that I’d been trying to get booked on for nine years. It was hate at first sight. But she glowed with ambition, and I knew that she was the woman I needed to pretend to be friends with to help me further my career.

After the show, I introduced myself to Sheryl leading with my TV credits. I told her how hilarious she was, how happy I was that she moved to town and that I liked her shoes. She said I was cute, (what a bitch) but then asked me to join her on Friday night for a girls night out. Success! I was networking. I was schmoozing. I was manipulating talented people for my own gain, and it felt amazing. I immediately followed Sheryl on all her social media. This is what successful people do. They make friends with other successful people regardless of whether they actually like them or not. I was so proud of my own cunning that I didn’t let it phase me when Sheryl didn't follow me back. I knew that by the end of our weekend together Sheryl would be following me back, showing off our power couple friendship every opportunity she could.

The girls night out Sheryl invited me to was just me watching her do stand up. I sat beside people who Sheryl introduced as her friends but who I later found out was just an open mic comedian and some guy who was trying to sleep with her. After the show, I loitered around Sheryl, praised her talent and actually said the words “You’re a genius." I still had hope that the second half of the night was going to involve some kind of whimsical girls night out, but again Sheryl screwed me over. She hurdled us all into a cab to her second show of the night which sounds as awful as it was. What I thought was going to be a night of a blossoming friendship between two fake feminists was actually just Sheryl making me her groupie.

The rest of the night is blurry because bitterness has a way of blocking things out. All night Sheryl treated me like an assistant. I wanted to kick her in the crotch, but instead, I bought her drinks all night. That was the last time I ever willingly hung out with Sheryl. Everything would have been fine but I still followed her on social media, and she never followed me back. I contemplated unfollowing her, but I couldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing I was jealous of her. I watched Sheryl grow her empire, hang out with the cool alt comedians and get verified on Instagram. It was living Hell.

The biggest mistake I made wasn’t trying to be friends with Sheryl but was convincing myself that I wanted to be friends with her in the first place. I am a competitive person. I am profoundly threatened by people who are prettier and more successful than me. Some women support all women, I'm into one woman, Hannah Hogan. I learned that I don't want to be friends with women I'm jealous of, it requires too much energy to fake being happy for them. I want to put my focus into more important things like writing this self-help blog.

I recently discovered the mute button. The recipient of the mute button has no idea you don't see their posts, but they're none-the-wiser because you still technically follow them. Sheryl was the first person I muted. I’ve muted frenemies, moms who post too many pictures of their kids, celebrities, women in comedy and two cousins. Sometimes I wonder about Sheryl, what she’s up to, what cool new TV show she is working on but then I quickly block that thought out and remind myself that what I don’t know, doesn't kill me, and also, I hate her.

If you despise someone, don't feel bad. Own your pettiness. If someone is hotter or more successful than you these are perfectly valid reasons to avoid them, unfollow them and pray for their failures. You don't need to be constantly reminded how far away you are from your goals by watching someone else get all the breaks. Trust your hate. Dive into your anger. Be the bitch you want to see in the world.


  1. This is awesome. Or maybe I am just hoping you will comment back.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Female Comedian's Hypocrisy

I have landed on some epiphanies that, in light of recent events, I feel compelled to share with you. For two years I’ve been a stand-up comedian working the road in middle America. I’m not exactly sure how I got here. And I mean literally here, I don’t know how I got where I’m sitting right now. I’m writing this in a coffee shop in Grand Haven, Michigan, which means I’m geographically closer to my hometown in Canada than I am to where I currently live with my comedian husband in, Nashville TN. This is typical of my life now. I spend my time traipsing from state to state doing comedy. I’m home for a few days every week and then hit the pavement again, off to entertain another room of strangers, picking up paychecks and stage time wherever I can, from whoever will hire me. I’m all over the place, but right now, I’m just enjoying an overpriced pour over coffee reflecting, yet again, on being a woman in comedy.

I’m not complaining, at least right now I’m not complaining because I had goo…

Acting Classes Are Scams

Ninety-eight percent of acting classes are pyramid schemes, and the other two percent are cults. I have an eye for terrible acting classes because, unfortunately, I've taken a lot. Every acting class makes me feel like I'm getting punked on a hidden camera show. One time a teacher made me play the game fight, flight or fuck with another girl. This stranger and I squared off against each other and I then I full on beat the shit out of her. Another time, I took a Saturday morning improv class, and my teacher showed up hungover every time. He could never remember what we were working on so the day always devolved into a clap focus game with him on the sidelines eating McDonald's breakfast sandwiches. I can spot scam artist teachers when I see one and my new acting teacher is exhibit A.

I recently enrolled in another acting studio because there is no place to practice acting outside of paid gigs. My teacher is a forty-eight-year-old man who gloats about living in LA for twent…