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What I Learned From My Time On TikTok as @MakeCathleenTikTokFamous

Cathleen Freedman

The way people talk about being in New York City in 2016, I'll talk about being on TikTok in 2021-2023: With a playlist of songs from the era and a through-line of fondness but a deep undercurrent of subtext of "I don't ever want to go back." That type of arms length nostalgia is my favorite. You'll lovingly remember a time but never want to relive it because you sorta-kinda pity the people living in that epoch and you're just glad you made it out with your faculties intact.


I don't want to wax poetic about TikTok, but I do want to indulge in a post mortem of the experiences I had in 2021-2023ish through which TikTok was the conduit. This reflection will not hold up in a court of law and cannot be used against me, in the event that whoever buys TikTok or allows it in the US for its inevitable return wants to use any of the following sentences as an endorsement of the app. No. This is about me and the collective we.


Now that's out of the way, let's begin. I, like so many people, have a fear of online ephemera and the idea that anything that exists online can be wiped away.


My first real encounter with this was in 2009 when my parents told me they were getting rid of the puttering laptop that I typed my novel, Ava The Scholarly Witch, and other short stories. The laptop had been on the fritz for four years, and my brothers and I had peeled off most of the buttons on the keyboard. It wouldn't connect to the printer or the internet. It had no capabilities beyond its Word Document. It was slow and needed to go. My parents encouraged me to take several afternoons to write down my stories in a journal. I remember sitting in my dad's office, feeling overwhelmed at the prospect of losing the words forever but also... thrilled by the idea of starting over and writing something better.


Similarly, my Instagram account was hacked in May 2021. (I have been told it isn't really "hacked" but rather I'm "locked out." Seeing as this is my narrative and life story, I think "hacked" is a cooler phrase with greater drama. It evokes the image of a hooded figure hunched over the computer typing nefarious code, while the latter implies I am standing outside of my old Instagram account trying to turn a knob that won't open. Lame!) I had the familiar feeling of dread when I realized there were direct messages, saved posts, and access I'd never get back. But there was still that feeling of "I get to create this all over again and make something NEW! Nice!"


I started downloading TikToks yesterday morning and then, of course, got sidetracked. I had a date with my boyfriend and fully intended on going home early to download the remainder of my TikToks, but at 9:00 PMish, I got a text from my friend Alexandria that TikTok had already deactivated across the country. I felt that same feeling from when I was nine years old, sitting in my dad's office and trying to write out stories I wrote on a crashing laptop. And that same feeling when I had to make a new Instagram account in 2021: Oh. Well. Onto the next!


The Anatomy of My Old TikTok Account


First, the username. I downloaded TikTok in pre-pandemic 2020. At the time, I figured all of my future TikToks would be about New York City, so I left the username as @cathleeninnyc. I was already ahead of Emily in Paris in title structure.


I was in my sophomore year college dorm and had just gone to the Huascar & Co. Bakeshop with a friend named Brooke. I heard that there was a radio station in Houston that would give free Lizzo tickets to the Rodeo if you made a TikTok inspired by one of her songs. It was the March 13th show, which was also my 21st birthday. Seemed like a great way to celebrate! So, I got the app and made a TikTok. At the time, I had a terrible Samsung phone, and the video has this not-so-nostalgic filter over it. I did something with a slice of Key Lime Pie. Whatever it was, I'm sure it was devastatingly clever and charmingly winsome and only garnered 9 likes.


I didn't get the tickets, but then again, the concert didn't even happen. The rodeo was cancelled the very next month, and my birthday would mark the official start date of the Covid-19 pandemic. Brooke and I haven't talked in nearly three years, and I've never been to that bakery since. In either case, there's no big reason for the distance. It's just how things happened.


Once we were well into the pandemic, I changed my TikTok username from @cathleeninnyc. I wanted something funny and irreverent. Something that didn't look like a jumble of letters. Something that could easily be chanted by the masses, AKA my 23 followers. So, why not @MakeCathleenTikTokFamous?


I thought it was a pretty cute username, especially because my videos were getting abysmal traction. We're talking fewer than 10 likes here. I was as viral as smallpox. It wasn't until a year-and-a-half later that any of my TikToks made it onto people's For You Pages. My first one, I think, was about how I can't hear "Chanel" without thinking "antisemite." My second one was about Poptropica. My third one was about a college girl rushing in Greek life but thinking they were supposed to choose their "Big 3" from Greek mythology.


A TikTok comedian invited me to her comedy show, and when I went, a man approached me and said, "You're Make Cathleen TikTok Famous!" Something about hearing it out loud made me shudder and realize that maybe people didn't notice the irony. Suddenly, the username felt a little too earnest. I wanted to change it to CathleenWithAC because it explained how to spell my name and also solidified my association with AC. Alas, this username was taken; I never changed the username.


I had some people comment on my TikToks that they saw me around New York City and wanted to say hi but ended up just coming back to my profile and commenting there. These were mostly men. To them, I say thank you for leaving me alone in person. I'm flattered, but the encounter would have freaked me out. Just DM me your good intentions. To the girls, don't hesitate to say hi next time! I bet we'll get along famously!


For my bio, I think I had it as "I remember when TikTok was just a Ke$ha song." I later changed it to "It's all show and tell" because I started making TikToks that were like video essays using found footage from my day and a scripted voiceover synthesizing the experiences. Thus, show and tell!


As I type this, I'm wincing because I'm thinking of how many days I had preserved on that account, fully articulating special moments and realizations. It was my time capsule. Oh, well. Back to this reflection:


Being on TikTok from 2021 through 2023 was mostly great. I was amazed at how the algorithm connected me to such cool people who I've yet to meet in person but feel very much like I know them personally. I found brides whose weddings I covered on Over The Moon. I attended an absolutely beautiful wedding in Connecticut through TikTok and recently sent the couple a present for their baby. (Congratulations, Isabelle and Jonas!) I found talented artists for my Relay of The Year planners. (Hello, Emma and Isabel!) I even got dates off of TikTok and turned down a great many more. That was New York City in the golden days of TikTok, baby!


I once told one of my creative writing teachers that writing TikToks were an excellent writing exercise. They were! Mostly.


Writing TikToks gave my people watching past-time a form. It also made me take more videos, which I completely relish. I love documenting. I'm a documenter through and through. I'm a capturer. On a walk along the Upper West Side once, I recorded a TikTok speaking about this: I believe you need to be a documentarian of your life. You need to ask people to take your picture, record videos, and steal shots. You will never regret having another photo, and if you do, wait another ten years. You'll be so glad you have proof of existence.


But as fun as making TikToks were, between you and me, I secretly felt like they were distracting me from my other projects. I wanted to do something like American Baron, but more me. I always knew what more "me" would be and how much more work/energy/focus that would demand than a 90-second video I could self-produce on my phone, but making TikToks were just easier.


While TikToks were a fun distraction, I do thank it for getting me out there and aligning me with cool people and forcing me to put thoughts into words into audio into video presentation for other people to consume. Otherwise, a lot of those words would have stayed on the page. Or worse, would have stayed in my head just as thoughts, never articulated beyond a feeling. TikTok gave me agency to think more coherently for a more immediate audience than a lot of the stories I typically write.


Furthermore, I will never get over the fun adventures TikTok paved the way for, like my Caffe Reggio saga: I made a TikTok about eavesdropping at this New York City institution and then the couple (who weren't actually a couple) that I eavesdropped on found the TikTok and played it at their comedy show. There's a much longer version of this tale that I legally can't type on the internet but will tell you if you ask me in-person.


I also love the story of how I posted one of my video essays about the day that felt like the end of a chapter: I presented my Honors senior thesis, got dinner with my honors program at the same place we got dinner our freshman year together, and then ran into Matt Healy from The 1975 with my friend Jill.


Two months later, Jill was in a hostel in Germany, met some girls from the UK and told them about the day we saw Matty Healy. One of the girls then said, "I watched that TikTok." That's magic! But also, that's life, and I believe real life has an even more mesmerizing algorithm than TikTok.


In the last year-and-a-half, I really hadn't used TikTok the way I used to. Friends echoed my thoughts, but we wondered if this was a sign of the times or just an indicator that we're now adults with busy days that no longer allows for TikTok scrolls. We had it during the pandemic, when we had an abundance of time. But being in the early stages of our careers as professionals, we had decidedly less time to scroll.


Oh, well. It's just a sign of the times. I think for our generation in the future, it'll be cool to tell children that their parents had some form of notoriety on TikTok. (As if they'll care.) I'm glad I participated in this zeitgeist's moment when I did. But now that it's gone, it's really gone. Even when TikTok comes back--we all know it will, it won't be what it was. And honestly? Good riddance. Onto the next.


As for @MakeCathleenTikTokFamous, you'll always be famous to me.


And now, photos from this time.

This is how I often maneuvered New York City in 2021 and 2022: with my slow laptop and a phone whose battery was always on the verge of disappearing. This was taken on the day my friend Alexandria "walked" from the top to the tip of Manhattan. We had just started the day at The Met Cloisters. Yes, I made a TikTok about the experience.
This is how I often maneuvered New York City in 2021 and 2022: with my slow laptop and a phone whose battery was always on the verge of disappearing. This was taken on the day my friend Alexandria "walked" from the top to the tip of Manhattan. We had just started the day at The Met Cloisters. Yes, I made a TikTok about the experience.
After our Honors Senior Thesis presentation, but before seeing Matty Healy.
After our Honors Senior Thesis presentation, but before seeing Matty Healy.
My friend Alexandria, a fellow documenter, took this film photo after we spent an incredible day on Roosevelt Island and ended up running into each other later that day in Midtown. After this was taken, I went to a meeting with the co-directors of my Honor senior thesis staged reading, dinner at the Golden Unicorn in Chinatown, and then ended up going to a Billy Joel concert at Madison Square Garden at the last minute on a phone with 12%. I recorded the whole day and made a TikTok about it.
My friend Alexandria, a fellow documenter, took this film photo after we spent an incredible day on Roosevelt Island and ended up running into each other later that day in Midtown. After this was taken, I went to a meeting with the co-directors of my Honor senior thesis staged reading, dinner at the Golden Unicorn in Chinatown, and then ended up going to a Billy Joel concert at Madison Square Garden at the last minute on a phone with 12%. I recorded the whole day and made a TikTok about it.
I made a TikTok about going to The Batman premiere. I loved this outfit. I don't know what happened to that coat (incredible), those boots (perfect), or the tights (surprisingly fantastic.)
I made a TikTok about going to The Batman premiere. I loved this outfit. I don't know what happened to that coat (incredible), those boots (perfect), or the tights (surprisingly fantastic.)
My friend Ali and I after we undoubtedly met the time-traveling Beatles outside of Pomander Walk. I loved this TikTok.
My friend Ali and I after we undoubtedly met the time-traveling Beatles outside of Pomander Walk. I loved this TikTok.

With actors from my staged reading. I met them in an acting class I took! (Hi, Giovanni, Maille Rose, and Luke!) Also made a TikTok about this.
With actors from my staged reading. I met them in an acting class I took! (Hi, Giovanni, Maille Rose, and Luke!) Also made a TikTok about this.
Ran into my friend Sophia at the Met. She played the lead in my Honors Senior Thesis reading, the subject in the painting behind us.
Ran into my friend Sophia at the Met. She played the lead in my Honors Senior Thesis reading, the subject in the painting behind us.
Just over a year later, Sophia and I ran into the painting AGAIN and then got drinks at The Carlyle, where I told her about how much I loved Rufus Wainwright.
Just over a year later, Sophia and I ran into the painting AGAIN and then got drinks at The Carlyle, where I told her about how much I loved Rufus Wainwright.
Later that week, I went to the Met and met Rufus Wainwright. This picture was taken the literal minute after it happened. I made several TikToks about this experience. I hope Rufus Wainwright saw it all.
Later that week, I went to the Met and met Rufus Wainwright. This picture was taken the literal minute after it happened. I made several TikToks about this experience. I hope Rufus Wainwright saw it all.
The day before my 22nd birthday at The Pebble Bar, right before seeing SNL with Rosalia and Zoe Kravitz. I had gone to the Rex Orange County pop-up event and befriended girls I'm still friends with to this day. Another TikTok I loved!
The day before my 22nd birthday at The Pebble Bar, right before seeing SNL with Rosalia and Zoe Kravitz. I had gone to the Rex Orange County pop-up event and befriended girls I'm still friends with to this day. Another TikTok I loved!

In Quebec City, posing with this portrait of Bill Murray as Wes Anderson's Steve Zissou at an incredible library-cafe I made a TikTok about. I treasure that experience. If you're ever in QC, go to Librairie St-Jean-Baptiste for me. Bring cash!
In Quebec City, posing with this portrait of Bill Murray as Wes Anderson's Steve Zissou at an incredible library-cafe I made a TikTok about. I treasure that experience. If you're ever in QC, go to Librairie St-Jean-Baptiste for me. Bring cash!

2 Comments


zxclord
2 days ago

Your journey on TikTok sounds like such a wild ride! It’s so interesting how you explored the platform from different angles. If you're looking to create or edit content for TikTok, video editing software for pc is a great tool. It’s easy to use, has lots of fun features, and can really help make your videos stand out with minimal effort.

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BobBeasta
Jan 23

Cathleen, you are famous amongst the dragons in my mind!

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