Spotlight

01

I rushed forward feeling slightly claustrophobic. The security guards were all pressed up against me all-while the crowd of reporters and fans tried shoving their arms out to touch me or pushing their mics towards me to try and ask me a question.

"Emmy did you seal the deal with RedBull?"

"Vilde! Vilde! Over here!"

"Is it true you are exploring the possibility of joining the McLaren team?"

"What's your comment on your lates formula two season?"

"Can you take a picture with me?"

" Girls should not drive formula one!"

"How does it feel being the first female formula one driver!"

Don't get me wrong, I love my supporters but some things will never seize to feel odd. The whole I-want-to-touch-the-driver thing really makes me feel like a crowded animal at a petting-zoo, and not the cute kind. More like the poor family dog being chased around the house by the children during Christmas time.

"Picture please!"

"Emmy!!"

"You'll never be enough!"

"Omg I love you!!!"

"Vilde!"

"That shirt makes you look fat!"

"Please sign this"

The screaming was starting to get to my head and I found myself starting to hyperventilate. The air was thick with noice and my body was still shaken up by the surprise of the sheer amount of people yelling my name. I was not used to crowds waiting for me to make an appearance, not unless I was accompanied by another driver, that is.

Someone on my team had gravely misjudged the amount of people that would be waiting for me outside of the RedBull Racing headquarters. The poor security guards could only do so much while trying to push forward and gain some ground against the mob of people.

It really had not been a problem before. Previously to my freshly acquired f1 seat few people gave enough fucks about me to track me down and harass me for pictures. Only I probably should have expected at least some change in fan-interest since I was the first female f1 drivers in decades and I had secured a top team seat.

I tried to calm myself down by canceling out the yelling but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't shut the clicking and flashes from the cameras out. My hopes of getting to the car swiftly and easily were completely crushed, the process off getting to my awaiting vehicle was a slow and almost painful process.

"Please guys make some room" I tried pleading to the crowd. My vision was heavily limited and constantly intercepted by the bright flashing from the cameras. I held one hand up to shield my eyes from the flash and the other one was pressed flush against my chest. The security guards were barking out commands for the people to move but it barely had any effect. That is most definitely a con of being a female formula one driver- or just a racing driver in general; no matter how polite or calculated you act some people will hate your guts and make sure that you know it. And even if people do not hate you that does not guarantee that they will respect you and your personal space or privacy, in fact it usually insures the opposite. The more adored you are by the fans the less they respect your personal boundaries.

During the majority of the time fans seemed to believe that they were entitled to touch us drivers or ask us highly inappropriate  questions just because "they support us". It is not that I did not like their support but rather the lack of respect.