They say you never forget your first Doctor. Mine was Christopher Ecclestone. I was 17 way back in 2005 when the series was brought back to life by Russell T Davies and I enjoyed that series very much indeed. I'd started watching it because I'd heard it was a national treasure in the UK, and I am so very glad that I did: the show captivated me like none before or since. I loved every second of it (apart from the Slitheen; anyone who says they're a fan of them is a liar) and found myself very attached to Nine. So much so that I actually hated David Tennant (Barty Crouch Jnr, for God's sake!) when he started and didn't catch up on the new series till I found it on sale in HMV.
Needless to say I was immediately hooked again; how could you fail to be? Tennant's boundless energy and enthusiasm and considerable physical charms whisked me away on a joyful four year long adventure (with some notable exceptions: Love and Monsters, I will take every single opportunity to point out what a massive turd you are) and when I found out he was leaving I wept and wailed and tore out my hair, did a bit more of that while being forced to sit through The End of Time and then a bit more when I realised they'd cast Jedward's older brother in the role next. The one glimmer of hope at the end of the time vortex was that Steven Moffat, writer of such amazing episodes as Blink and The Empty Child, was going to be the show runner. I still didn't want to watch it - who could possibly fill Tennant's Converse?
Then I got very sick and nearly died and ended up living back at home with my family for a few months to recover, and found myself with nothing to do one Saturday evening (I was still too ill to go out drinking - yeah, it was THAT serious). I realised that Doctor Who was starting again. I sat down to watch.
It's very hard for me to describe what I went through while watching The Eleventh Hour. To call it an epiphany sounds like a load of pretentious wank but it's probably the best word for it. Being on morphine and endless other painkillers for weeks meant that I'd had no real brain stimulation for quite some time, I'd had nothing to catch my imagination. The Eleventh Hour lit a fire in my head. The mystery of the cracks. The mystery of Amy. But most of all the young man who strode through a holographic image of his predecessors at the end of the episode and quietly, confidently proclaimed: "Hello. I'm the Doctor."
I believed him. In under an hour Matt Smith and his incarnation of the Doctor had come to mean more to me than the previous five years. He just got it. He was young and old and timeless and wise and silly and brave and scary and he fitted right into that TARDIS like a glove. He was meant to be there. He embodied the role in a way I hadn't thought an actor so young would be able to. You looked into his eyes and you saw 900 years of pain and suffering but also hope and a genuine belief in the inherent goodness of every living thing in the universe.
I became obsessed with Doctor Who. I connected with it like nothing in this universe. I started a blog, exploring the mysteries of the season. I wrote fan fictions. I analysed each and every episode. I found Twitter, and became really active on it, discussing the series and sharing my theories with countless other fans. I met so many wonderful people that way: @causticbob, @quitepiraty, @SuperLars, @scotps23, @danieljgee, @crazymurdav, @aboynamedart, @NUTS4R2, @CyNyC, @Bullitt33, @TerryLightfoot, @TerribleZodin, @AbelUndercity, @RichardHCooper, @HorzaEdeo, @alwycherly, @Whovian_24, @CosRyan, @The1JayD, @Slytherin_Pixie, @LionelTwigg, @KaFaraqGatri, @2cajuman2, @1outside, @grimrevolution, @truth_logic, @SioGallichan, @mmmjackdaniels, @Blue_Rose_, @medeaviolia, @bindiyayagnik, @langers81, @lufcrace, @poprockgeek, @guitardis, @cynichronicity, @RealWillConvey, @sciritai, @sharononeill, @CameronYardeJnr, @OctavianD, @eamonnmcaleer, @CastleDD, @vermontaigne, @chicago_ted, @xLiz10x, @LonelyGod, @HacklyFracture, @OzzyBaxter, @iRon4k.... Also @fishcustardzine who very kindly published some articles of mine. There are surely many more that I've forgotten, but that sense of community was AMAZING. I used to look forward to Saturday evenings so much, simply for watching episodes of Doctor Who and then discussing it with people. I've never felt so accepted, so much among my own people. That's why I'm listing you - every interaction meant so much to me. You made me feel like I belonged.
Eleven means so much to me. Eleven's tenure is where I found myself, where I found people who enjoyed the same things as me, where I found people who enjoyed my writing. To me it means regaining my life, becoming happy with myself, making friends, becoming creative, being truly passionate about something. THIS is why I am so sad about Matt Smith leaving, and why I will always remember him as the Doctor.
Thank you for reading, and sorry for the rambling!
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