No One Should Be a “Fan of True Crime” - Lauren Lee Malloy
Lauren Lee Malloy, Guest MINDSETTER™
No One Should Be a “Fan of True Crime” - Lauren Lee Malloy

Recently, there’s been an uptick in folks asking to join, with answers to group membership questions and initial posts saying things like:
“I love this stuff!”
GET THE LATEST BREAKING NEWS HERE -- SIGN UP FOR GOLOCAL FREE DAILY EBLAST“I love true crime!”
That first one was an intro post someone actually made in a group created by/for families of a real serial killer’s victims. Worth noting, the case is unsolved.
While I completely understand there’s a cultural fascination with these cases, I wish there was more awareness around how these statements are received by families directly impacted by violent crime or their loved ones’ disappearances.
You love “this stuff?”
This “stuff” is lives stolen, families ripped apart, communities broken, and people left desperate for answers about what happened to their loved ones.
You “love” true crime?
All I can think of here are the moments I’ve had with other families like mine. I hate true crime because I hate the way true crimes haunt the people left behind.
I hate the way human beings hurt other human beings, because the motives are always unfathomably senseless and there is no closure for loved ones left trying to understand why.
Contemplating the definition of true crime, to me, conjures a few clear images:
- A mother with exhausted eyes, holding on to faded photos and shreds of hope, living in hell for decades as her beautiful daughter’s killer is never identified.
- A wife, whose bright optimism fades to absolute despair on a search for her children’s missing father, until the sun starts to sink and she crumbles in the arms of searchers helping scour the shoreline for his body.
- A little boy, too old for his years, clutching a tiny kitten in his arms as he stares with wide eyes at investigators trying to find his dad, missing for months.
- A roadside memorial, with a few bouquets and lights lovingly arranged by a broken-hearted family around the muddy, trash-strewn spot where their loved one was found and all hope of her safe return was lost.
- A sister, texting in the middle of the night, when the fear and anger is at its peak, during the few hours when strangers aren’t hounding her for comments about the most horrific experience of her life, unable to sleep because the nightmares are almost as bad as the reality.
These are true crime stories.
I could go on. And on. And on…but you get the idea.
There is nothing to love about “this stuff.”
Even when a case is solved or an offender is identified and charged, it’s not a celebration. Sure, it’s a win for the families when it comes to a step forward in their sickening journeys, but it’s not something to love. It’s a sad reminder that a human being is gone and that other human beings do awful things for no good reason at all.
I get that we live in a society where we are desensitized to plenty of topics, but this is one I just hope folks truly think about.
I hate this stuff.
I hate true crime.
But I love the brave, strong families and dogged detectives who never stop fighting against this stuff and work relentlessly to get justice for these true, ugly crimes.
That’s all.

