Analysing My Crush on Basil Brush (A Love Story I Didn’t See Coming)

Once upon a time, I fell in love with a fox.
Not metaphorically. Literally — a puppet fox on BBC One.

Yes, I’m talking about Basil Brush.
Cheeky grin, velvet waistcoat, questionable jokes for a kids’ show. And somewhere between the laughter and the catchphrases, tiny me decided: yep, that’s the one.

It sounds ridiculous, I know. But when you’re an autistic kid still figuring out what feelings even are, it makes a strange sort of sense. Characters felt safer than people. They stayed the same every week. They made eye contact without it feeling like a challenge. And Basil wasn’t just funny — he was warm, predictable, and kind in that BBC-studio-lighting sort of way.

Looking back, I can see it wasn’t really about romance. It was about comfort and connection — the early spark of understanding what it feels like to like someone, without all the messy, confusing real-world stuff attached. Parasocial love was practice love: safe, sparkly, and entirely on my terms.

And now, years later, I can look back with a grin instead of cringe. That “weird crush” wasn’t weird at all. It was a piece of my story — one that helped me learn empathy, imagination, and maybe even a bit of self-acceptance.

So yes, I once fancied a fox puppet.
And you know what? Boom boom, babes. 🦊💅✨