I Wish We Were More Concerned Than Curious about Ariana Grande
Every time a new photo or video of Ariana Grande appears online, I notice the exact same conversation happening all over again. People argue about whether she is naturally thin, whether everyone should mind their own business, whether the camera adds weight, whether she has always looked this way, and before long the discussion turns into another internet debate where everyone is trying to prove they are the most compassionate person in the room while barely talking about the one thing that actually matters.
A human being standing in front of millions of people who, at least from the outside, does not appear well.
I don't know Ariana Grande personally and I would never pretend to know what is happening in her private life. None of us do. But I also don't think we have to ignore what we can clearly see. There is a difference between making cruel comments about someone's body and expressing concern because they appear physically unwell. Those are not the same thing, even though the internet loves to treat them as if they are.
The more I think about it, the more I keep coming back to Karen Carpenter. Her story is one of the most heartbreaking examples of what can happen when an eating disorder quietly takes over a person's life while the public continues watching, commenting, buying tickets and applauding. She began dieting while still in high school, initially under a doctor's guidance on the Stillman diet, where she focused on lean proteins, water intake, and strict avoidance of fats and carbohydrates. She eventually reduced her weight to around 120 pounds and maintained it for years as the Carpenters' success grew.
But over time, her relationship with her body became increasingly strained. After seeing a concert photo of herself in 1973, she became convinced her clothing made her look heavier and began working with a personal trainer. When the muscle gain from exercise made her feel “bigger” instead of smaller, she fired the trainer and took control of her own weight loss, relying on calorie counting and intense exercise. She lost around 20 pounds and still wanted to lose more. Her eating habits became increasingly restrictive, even to the point of trying to discreetly remove food from her plate by offering it to others at the table.
By 1975, she weighed around 91 pounds (41 kg). Fans at concerts reportedly gasped at her appearance, and many wrote in asking what was wrong. Still, she refused to publicly acknowledge the severity of her condition. In a 1981 interview, when asked directly about anorexia, she dismissed it by saying she was simply “pooped.”
Behind the scenes, however, she knew something was deeply wrong. She eventually confided in her brother Richard that she needed help. She sought treatment, first hoping for a quick solution because of her demanding career, and later working with psychotherapist Steven Levenkron in New York. Even with treatment, her condition worsened. At one point she was taking thyroid medication under a false name to increase her metabolism and relying heavily on laxatives she had long used. Her weight eventually dropped to an adult low of around 77 pounds (35 kg), and she described symptoms like dizziness and an irregular heartbeat.
In 1982, she was hospitalized and placed on intravenous nutrition. She gained weight quickly, but the strain on her heart was already severe. She returned to California determined to rebuild her life and career, and even began writing songs for the first time. She told friends she still had “a lot of living left to do.”
But in February 1983, at just 32 years old, she collapsed at her parents’ home and died shortly after from heart failure related to complications of anorexia nervosa. Her funeral was attended by around 1,000 mourners, including many famous friends, and her story has since become one of the most studied and tragic examples of how devastating eating disorders can be when they are not fully understood or treated in time.
That is why I struggle watching Ariana continue to perform, attend premieres, promote projects and remain constantly in the public eye. If she is dealing with a serious health issue, whether it is an eating disorder or something entirely different, then my first thought is not that she should keep pushing through because she has professional obligations. My first thought is that she deserves the chance to disappear from the spotlight for as long as necessary and focus entirely on getting better.
Fame has a strange way of convincing us that celebrities are products before they are people. New albums have release dates, movies have marketing campaigns, concerts have contracts, brands have investments, and somewhere in the middle of all of that there is still a woman with a body that needs care and a mind that deserves peace. None of those business commitments should matter more than someone's health.
I know there are people who believe commenting on a celebrity's appearance is always wrong, but I don't think complete silence is automatically kindness either. If someone looked visibly ill in our own family, at work or among our friends, we would not convince ourselves that saying nothing was the compassionate choice. We would hope someone close to them was encouraging them to slow down and seek help before things became even more serious.
I also think about all the young women watching. We like to believe media literacy has improved, but millions of girls are still absorbing images every single day and comparing themselves to bodies they know nothing about. They do not see contracts, stress, illness, grief or private struggles. They only see applause, magazine covers and endless compliments, and it quietly shapes what they believe they should look like.
What worries me most is how quickly we normalize dramatic physical changes simply because they happen to famous people. If this were an ordinary woman walking into work every day looking increasingly fragile, I believe most people around her would express concern. Celebrity status should not change our ability to recognize when someone may need help.
I truly hope Ariana is surrounded by people who love her enough to put her wellbeing above her career, because careers can pause and recover, but health is much harder to rebuild once it has been pushed too far. The world will still be here when she is healthy enough to come back. Fans will still listen to the music. Movies will still exist. There is no performance important enough to be worth sacrificing a person's life or long term health.
Maybe I am wrong about what is happening, and I genuinely hope I am. But if there is even a chance that something serious is going on, I would rather live in a world where our first instinct is concern instead of curiosity, compassion instead of gossip, and recovery instead of another standing ovation.
Thankful for your presence, Neja
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