What is it really like to be a child star? A discussion on mental health, body image, and queerness with Alyson Stoner
You may recognize Alyson Stoner from their iconic roles in Cheaper by the Dozen, Camp Rock, or The Suite Life of Zack & Cody. Now, they’re telling their own story in their new memoir, Semi-Well-Adjusted Despite Literally Everything. In this candid discussion with FEMINIST, Stoner reveals how being a child star impacted their mental health, body image, and experience coming out as queer.
What does feminism mean to you?
To be honest, the word “feminism” currently feels loaded and convoluted, mostly because it seems each person I know has a different working definition of it, they seem to apply the term inconsistently (and sometimes carelessly) across contexts, and it seems to create barriers to the very sort of dialogue needed to accomplish its intention. My shortest answer is “I’m not sure.” My next answer is that I most likely gravitate toward (what I understand to be) intersectional feminism; I aim to address the way gender, race, class, sexual orientation, and disability affect people’s daily experiences within our systems and society, and to help actualize fundamental equality and equity across groups.
A more subjective answer is that feminism is the reason I can vote for the people who represent the country, that I can own my house, that I was able to access support after experiencing sexual violence, and that I can make a living as a CEO.
We're all very excited about your new memoir, Semi-Well-Adjusted Despite Literally Everything. Who is this book for, and what can readers expect from your memoir?
Within the first week of release, it was immediately apparent that each person gravitates toward the book for different reasons. If you are interested in mental health and self-development, you’ll find a deeply immersive healing journey. If you’re into pop culture, you’ll learn juicy, intimate details from all of the Hollywood sets growing up. If you were raised in the church, or if you had complicated family dynamics, or if you’re queer, or if you’re a creative, or if you’re navigating social media and the digital world, or if you’re a perfectionist, or if you’re just trying to make sense of being human, this book is for you.
Many have said it reads like a novel, but hits like a manifesto. I can tell you that my intention was to write it in a way where it could be the last book of its kind that ever has to be written. Take that as you will.
How did being in the spotlight from a young age impact your mental health and body image?
While the memoir thoroughly delves into this, one aspect related to mental health was that I developed extreme hypervigilance. Due to being publicly monitored by press and audiences, constantly morphing myself in auditions to appease adults as a means of securing a job, and facing threats from stalkers and kidnapping plots, I learned to read a room before I learned to read a book—constant high-alert, calculated decision-making, and rapid heart rate.
In terms of body image, since my body was a commodified product, I measured it against whatever standards were used to define “optimal market value.” I needed my body and appearance to be “sellable,” however, I was too young to realize that this meant ascribing to (and perpetuating) unattainable beauty standards that were defined by profit-driven corporations and harmful cultural myths.
You can imagine how treating your body as a “project to complete” and an “object to modify” could lead to disordered eating, burnout, and disconnecting from your actual needs.
In 2018, you came out publicly as queer in a Teen Vogue article. Can you take us back to how your coming out was received, and how it felt to come out in the public eye?
In 2018, I publicly came out as queer, which catalyzed a subsequent journey of deconstructing my gender identity. One of the challenges of doing this publicly is that everyone had a different reaction and opinion. Unless you have deep clarity and confidence about who you are (I did not at the time), it can be easy to bend to others’ whims. I needed to constantly reground myself in the truth that I would rather accept myself and be rejected, than reject myself and be accepted. This helped me reckon with some of the tougher responses I received from certain loved ones and employers. Thankfully, the queer community (and so many others) welcomed me with open arms.
You and your sister co-founded Movement Genius, a digital wellness platform for mental, emotional and physical well-being. What made you feel called to start the organization?
Movement Genius was born out of necessity. We provide therapist-led content and virtual community classes to support your wellbeing and help you manage daily life. Correy and I saw a huge gap in the wellness space—so much of it was either inaccessible, exclusionary, or using an outdated paradigm of separating the mind and body. We wanted to create something trauma-informed, inclusive, evidence-based, and actually human. Movement Genius became that space. It’s not about “fixing” people—it’s about creating a safe container for people to come home to themselves, at their own pace, in their own way.
If you could speak to the younger child star version of yourself, what would you say to them?
I’d remind them that their sensitivity is a superpower. That their body is not just something to control or commodify, but a sacred vessel to listen to, care for, and feel safe in. I’d tell them it’s okay to say no. That setting boundaries is a part of love. That survival mode doesn’t have to be the default forever.
And maybe most importantly, I’d whisper, “You don’t have to hold all of this alone. I’m here. You are allowed to rest. You are allowed to be messy. You are allowed to be.”
And then I’d just sit with them. No pressure, no spotlight. Just presence. Because that’s what I needed most.
