right, selena ray

zoe sugg; 22; doesn't identify; local; youtuber - journalist


hey. can you give us some basics on yourself?

"Okay. My name is Selena. I'm twenty-two years old. I'm very short. I have five tattoos. I have my ears, one cartilage, tongue, belly button and double hips pierced. I don't know what else to say. I'm from Manchester, England and came to America three months ago with my best friend and father of my child. I guess to go into more random facts I can think of something. I'm really obsessed with Misfits. I know sign language. I have a brother who is five years older than me. "


so where do you work? how do you like your job?

"A good portion of my income comes from my youtube channel. I'm also a journalist. I work for the local newspaper as a writer. I've been working as a youtube partner since I was fifteen or so. I enjoy it because it's fun. I like journalism a lot. I started interning at sixteen. I got my first real job at nineteen in England. Before I moved, I got a job in Newport with the newspaper."


so what's going on with your sexuality? what do you identify as? when did you realize it?

"The world has put things in a lot of black and white boxes when things aren't necessarily like that. It's with a lot of things that things are put into black and white boxes when there are 100 shades of grey in reality. I don't really identify as a specific sexuality. I guess I could identify at pan sexual but I guess I'm really not. I'll date any gender or non-identifier or trans or whatever. I do care about physical aspects to a point so I can't say pan sexual. I don't think looks are totally important but I do think there should be a healthy balance of mental and physical attraction. So I don't really identify with any sexual preference."


where have you worked in the past?

"I haven't worked a lot of places. I worked at a Drop Dead store for my first job. I was a waitress at sixteen for this local diner. I started my unpaid internship when I was like sixteen or seventeen. Overall, I haven't had a lot of work experience when it comes to the amount of places but all my working has been for long periods of time. I got my first journalism job at nineteen. I was writing for the paper. I've been doing that since."


so what's up with your alice in wonderland tattoos? why are you so obsessed? what tattoos do you have in total?

"I love Alice In Wonderland because I can relate to her. I love her world and everything about Alice In Wonderland. I have a lot of alice in wonderland tatoos but I have a couple that aren't. My first tattoo was when I was fifteen. On my left wist I got scarlett alice. When I was sixteen I got two tattoos on my upper legs. They're colored in on my skin but here are the two original sketches left upper thigh, right upper thigh. Later on that year I got this on my left shoulder blade. On my left side this tattoo is which I got when I turned seventeen. When I was twenty I got the moon on my right wrist.




so are you in therapy? how's that?

"Therapy is very uncomfortable for me but it's something I know I have to do. It's something I owe to myself and to Oliver. It feels almost like a requirement in my life at this point. I've been in and out of therapy since I was fifteen or so. I just switched into this new therapist and it's a little weird. Switching therapists is a little annoying because I hate having to re-explain what's going on with me. It takes me a while to warm up to the new person in my life."


tell us about your daughter?

"Hm. There's lots of things to say about Scarlett. First, her name name is Scarlett Alice Hartcort. She's seven years old and her birthday is a couple days after mine. She loves art and takes the talent after her dad. She loves gymnastics and soccer and is in both. She loves watching me write articles. She's a really lovely, bright kid."


how's your relationship with your baby daddy?

"It's very good. We're not dating or anything. We've raised scarlett together and are actually best friends. Thankfully we've had it okay with each other. We rarely fight and stuff. Things get stressful but we always manage to come together for our kid."


so you're feminist? what exactly is feminism?

"Feminism is the radical idea that women are people too. I'm honestly disappointed that I have to use the word feminist to describe myself. I shouldn't have to be a feminist."


so you're a vegan? why?

"I'm a vegan because animals are cool, man."


so you said you made a good amount of your money from youtube? how's that? tell me about it.

"I make videos on this little thing called the interwebs. I have lots of what people call 'internet fame'. I'm the fourth most famous youtuber right under Jenna Marbles. I have almost 10,500,000 subscribers. I have 3 million twitter followers. I have 1.5k million likes on facebook. I've gained all of it though. I didn't get lucky ith one video that went viral. I started making videos at 15 and it went from there."


show us some photos and gifs!

boys are so mean sometimes!
I was looking somewhere else, I Think
gif from a video a while back
zoning out

tell us your full history?
My name is Selena Ray Right and I was born to two people who were more or less not prepared to be actual parents. My dad is a psychopath and my mom is a sociopath. I didn’t know this when I was born. They were just mommy and daddy at the time. My mom was born in central London. She is a school teacher. My dad was born in south London and is a doctor. I was conceived when my mom was eighteen. My parents moved to Manchester to have me. They weren’t exactly excited. My dad was chain smoking and telling my mom to get an abortion. My mom was miserable and hating being pregnant.


I was sort of a normal child. I was a very angry and almost manic child. I was never really sleeping and always kind of hyper. My family hid me from the world. After the birth no one was allowed to really see me until I was four or five months old. No one can prepare you for abuse. It’s just something that happens, I guess. I’m not really upset. I’m numb about the whole situation. I know I should be angry but I’m just…not. The abuse started at five years old and I was in for one hell of a ride.

I could never say I was a normal child but this was definitely abnormal behavior for a nine year old. I was out of control emotionally. I was crying all the time and none of my teachers really knew what was wrong. I was terrified to go home. I was terrified to do anything. I was growing intense fears of everyone. At nine years old, I skipped down the hallway and threw up.
I started to become obsessed with my looks. For some this becomes a very vain thing. Some of people who are obsessed with their looks become models. I became a theater obsessed, mentally insane girl. At nine years old I asked my dad when he was in a good mood if I could join the schools theater club. He stared at me for a moment and nodded. I held in my excitement until I got to my room and jumped about.
My relationship was growing worse and worse with food. The next couple of years were terrible. I was starting to become a bulimic without really being fully aware of what the meaning was. I had several facts to go over with myself. One, my dad was physically and sexually abusing me. Two, my mom was mentally tearing me down. Three, my brother who is five years older than me was physically abusing me too. Four, my distant family was abusing me too. The obvious thought it “tell someone”. I couldn’t though. I didn’t quite know that there was anything to tell. At eleven years old I was never educated on abuse. The word had a meaning to it but it didn’t connect to me.
My parents were going to Las Vegas for their anniversary. They told me I was going to my uncle and aunts house. I had met them a couple times before and I knew they wouldn’t hurt me. I spent the week there and it was an amazing week. I spent all hours of the night watching movies, eating popcorn with my aunt and we went shopping. My aunt and uncle were some of the only family that was unaware of the abuse. Everyone in my family treated it like it was a huge family secret. They didn’t talk about it. It was just something very little.
At twelve years old, I decided I was never going to give up. I couldn’t give my dad the pride of beating me. I was going to make it through this. I tried to have a normal social life but I couldn’t really hang out with any of them. I was pretty popular at school and kids seemed to really like me. School was a safe haven for me to be at. I had “boyfriends” but it was just holding hands in the hallway and saying nice things to each other.
I got pulled after class when I was thirteen to be asked about my sleeping in class. It wasn’t the lazy kid type of sleeping. It was the I-could-be-standing-and-fall-on-my-face sleep. I would start to doze out mid sentence. I’ve always liked England so I didn’t want to sleep but living in my house wasn’t a good place for sleeping. I was eating from a bag that had mini muffins in it to get something in my system. She made a comment about the calorie content in them. I turned the bag, hating myself for not checking and saw it was in the dreaded hundreds. I dropped my bag of muffins in the garbage can as I left her room. I said that I was spending all my nights reading. I threw up in the stall and then walked down the hallway. I almost fell down the stairs but then next I knew I was a the hospital. I fainted going down those steps.
At thirteen I was sleeping around. It was a lot easier to say yes than to say no. I also had never gotten the “no sex before marriage” talk. I had never gotten any sort of helpful advice from my mother. I was sleeping with boys who I’d do drugs with afterwards. I never got into anything too hard. I’d smoke pot with them on their bed in my underwear. I’d watch them and their friends snort pills. A couple times I snorted a line. It wasn’t cocaine or anything. It was crushed pills they stole from their parents.
I was looking for more ways to hurt myself. There were 1,000 things I could have done. I was drinking all the time, smoking cigarettes. I was being abused at home. I was doing whatever people wanted me to. At thirteen I was the school slut. Eventually, I heard the term “self-harm”. It was an interesting concept to me. I could be in control of my own pain. Eventually my legs and arms found the blade. My dad didn’t control this. This was all me. This was my choice. Little did I know this choice would become an addiction.
Looking in the mirror I thought I definitely didn’t pick this. I was pregnant. I knew I was pregnant. I also knew this was the hardest thing I was going to have to ever do. The father was Oliver. I had always known Oliver but I never knew him well. He was in the partying scene as well. When I told my parents I expected a much worse reaction then I got. I guess they were scared I’d tell someone about the abuse if they hurt me. The rest of the pregnancy was like walking on egg shells in my house. Any little thing could set them off to scream at me and slap me. I tried to stay out of the way. Giving birth was the easy part. I had a c-section.
My room with Scarlett was decorated with Alice in wonderland things. Alice from Alice in wonderland has always been my go-to book and movie. I love it so much. I could always relate to Alice. She has this world she made up on her own. Part of me wished I could escape to some other world where things were easier.
One day child services came knocking at my door. It wasn’t about my parenting. It was about my parents parenting. It made sense at least. When I was in the hospital they could see the insane amount of scars up and own my legs. Some were self-inflicted but some weren’t. Somehow we managed to fake it till we made it.
My eating disorder started going at a very rapid rate after I gave birth. I was throwing up a lot that I was eating and running at night. I had to get rid of the pregnancy fat. While that was going on, I was taking an interesting in this radical idea. Feminism. After research, I declared myself a feminist. It made sense for me to be at least.
The first months with the baby were hard but not impossible. I was very protective over Scarlett. I loved my son more than anything and I wasn’t sure what I’d do without him. Oliver was an amazing father to Scarlett as well. I had to admit that even though we weren’t dating and never had that Oliver was cute. I was starting to develop feelings for him.
By time Scarlett was six months old I had went from 120 to 75. I’m very small in frame in height standing at only four foot six so 75 was just a little under the BMI chart line.
Youtube at 15
Moving in with a friend who’s an adult,
Assault of dad
By time Scarlett is six months, I was starving. Malnutrition is no a joke. You see the models on TV but you never understand until you’re looking at yourself in the mirror and you can count all you rib. I started to grow lanugo. My body wasn’t getting enough calories to burn to give internal heat. I looked very haunted. I’m very pale as is and I just looked very, very odd. When I put makeup on my cheeks it was almost useless. You could actually see the fur. It’s hard to notice some things about people who are constantly moving as quickly as I am. I’ve rarely ever stopped to smell the roses so it took a while for people to notice I was skinner than ever. I’m fairly short standing at only 4’9 or so but I was nearly emancipated. This was giving me serious medical issues. People say you must eat. Logically I knew this was true. I’d die if I didn’t eat. Keep in mind, anorexics do eat. I was eating healthy things with low calories. I was eating rabbit food. Somewhere along the lines I switched from vegetarian to vegan. We do eat, we just have rules. My rules were simple. Monday’s I did not eat. Tuesdays I could eat 100 calories. Wednesdays I could eat two hundred. Thursdays I could eat three hundred. Friday’s went back down to 200. Saturdays I went back to 100 and Sunday’s I could eat 200 if I stuck with my diet.
Around here I completely lost my sanity. I stopped sleeping. I was taking care of Scarlett during the day. I was taking naps when he was sleeping and I was taking twenty minute cat naps during the day but I really wasn’t sleeping. I started taking hallucinogens. If you take a lot of this stuff you could be tripping for let’s say, 23 or 24 hours. I was taking enough that would have me tweaking out for five and six hours. I loved the thought of all this. Selena Ray Right! Teen mom and youtube star by day, drug addict by night. It’s only now that I think of how sick I was being. I was tripping out and jumping by the drop of a pin. My PTSD was bad. My weight was worse and my skin was being destroyed by a thin, metal object.
My arms were completely cut up and Max, my female roommate began to notice. Something had to be done quickly. My mom, as you can probably tell, isn’t the best at emotions and taking care of me. She hates me but she also didn’t want me taken away. At least at Max’s house she know I won’t tell anyone. At a foster care system, I might. So she stepped in. They took me to a clinic.
I sat there impatiently every once in a while reminding them I needed to go take care of Scarlett who was nearing seven months at the time. My name was called out and I was taken down a hall. A lady with an Amy Winehouse styled type hair was speaking to me loud and fast. She told me it was an eating disorders evaluation. Trying to keep my cool I crossed my arms over my chest which had shrank. I did that and raised both of my eyebrows “And?”. The lady, I looked at the name tag- Margret- looked confused. She looked back at the file before saying anything else. Silently she took my height and weight then lead me into a room with colorful posters with cheesy sayings on them.
A tall man with dark hair came in. He looked over my charts, looked up at me a couple times. Insecure, I pushed hair behind my ear. He asked me how long had it been since I ate. I said this morning which wasn’t a lie. I had half an orange and black coffee. He then asked how long it had been since I had thrown up. Too quickly, I said I didn’t throw up. After that, I backed down. I needed to keep my cool. He felt under my jaw for swelling and sighed when he felt it. He looked up my arms, legs and hips. For a while he was muttering scar numbers but after a while he had given up. He shined a light in my eyes. He asked me to walk across the room. He had me sit on the table and checked my reflexes. There was no response. He looked at my fur, took my urine, blood and took off my nail polish. He bit his lip when he saw it was blue. Sarcastically, at the end I asked if I passed. Swiftly he said “You passed yourself right into the hospitals doors.”. I started to scream.
I gave temporary full custody to Oliver. Hospital visits are unclear to me. I know Oliver and Scarlett came in everyday during visiting hours. I know several times I threw fits over food. I know I spent a lot of time crying. I felt crazy so during “Creative time” I simply asked for some crayons and colored. I was fifteen, I felt five. I spent three weeks in the hospital until they were convinced I had gained enough weight to leave. No one took into account that I spent years in acting. I knew I could lose the weight later.
I was gaining weight at a rapid rate and the abuse was starting again. I was totally mommed up and I was overwhelmed . Can you blame me? One day when Oliver was taking Scar to the park I went out and searched for Ipeac. It’s used to make you throw up. The problem was I was drinking too much of this too fast and on near empty stomachs. I threw up coffee, toast and blood behind a Burger King.
Several months go by. I turn sixteen and Scarlett turns one a couple days later. For a while, I’m doing okay. I’m going to appointments to check on my weight for several weeks. I fill out little charts and say what I’m eating every meal every day. I do okay for a while. I’m being honest at the appointments. The lady doesn’t ask about my self-harming problem so I don’t tell her. I’m rarely self-harming anymore. At this point it’s apparent that I’m too busy to be sick. I’m only throwing up if I eat too much. I’m eating under what is healthy but a lot better than before. I only put a blade to my wrist, never breaking the skin at this point just causing pain. I do it to bring me back to reality. It works pretty well, I’d say.
I was doing well for six months. I was outpatient in the hospital. When I was impatient in the hospital I got ahead on a couple credits. What else was I going to do? If you’ve actually made it these far in this application send me ‘bananas’ on aim and I’ll send you my boobs or something. The abuse was getting worse which was getting me more and more erratic. I finally did something I didn’t expect. I reached out for help of the wives of the husbands that abused me. They turned their cheeks. My aunts, cousins, and mom. They turned their cheek. They were keeping the family secret.
I didn’t get sick again for any reason other than I am emotionally out of whack. Nothing else is to blame. I cannot blame my father or my mother. I cannot blame Scarlett or Oliver. I cannot blame the sun or the way my clothes sit on my body. I never learned how to deal with life. I was binging all the time. I wasn’t doing it in the way you’d expect. I wasn’t sitting on the bathroom sink and eating my heart out. I was eating 1,100 calorie McDonald’s meals on the way to Oliver’s. I was eating ice cream while making food for Scarlett. I was gaining weight rapidly which made me more attractive.
I turned seventeen and Scar turned two. I got a journalism intern during the summer. I was mommed up almost all the time. I rarely went out and saw anyone else but my therapist. My fear of my father was more and more intense. He wasn’t doing anything though very often. He was only unleashing his anger on me on bad days. I was getting sicker though. I was getting sicker but one good thing was happening. I was almost completely paying for Scar’s things on my own. I was edging seven million subs on youtube. I was getting stopped in the street. It was nuts.
I attempted suicide.
This was an impulsive decision. I took the pills and lost myself in the forest. They’d find my body eventually, right? They did. A couple hours later and I was taken to the hospital. I turned eighteen that day and Scar would turn three a couple days later. Sitting in the hospital chair my therapist started talking to me. He introduced Borderline Personality Disorder. I smirked. This would be interesting.
I spent the next six months in and out of the hospital. I’d be in for a month or two and have to be readmitted a couple weeks later.
After I got out I got a boyfriend named Damien. He wasn’t likely the best boyfriend I could have ever had. I’d spend nights at his house. He’d make one comment and I’d go off in a fit of BPD rage. Eventually I’d crash and pass out on the couch or wherever I was. He’d come in the next morning and say “Need help getting up?” I’d shake my head the best I could, stand up and go hug him. We’d go on like normal. I was dating Damien but I was in love with Oliver. I was dating Damien but everyone on youtube (9.3 million subs) shipped Oliver and I. I started spending all my time with Scar and at work. I was a journalist.

I turned nineteen and Scarlett turned four. I broke up with Damien and moved out of my parents’ home. I dated a few guys here and there. I was in love with Oliver and it hurt like hell. Only one boyfriend, Joshua stood out. We dated for three months and he was mentally ill. It wasn’t a good relationship.
Eventually I turned twenty. I’ve had my ups and my downs and two years later I’m here in America.