by Born in Leeds in 1981, actress Gemma Whelan studied performing arts at Middlesex University. She won a Funny Women Variety Award in 2010 and played her comic character Chastity Butterworth for many years before receiving critical acclaim for her film portrayals of Karen Matthews in The Moorside, Yara Greyjoy in Game of Thrones and Kate in Upstart Crow on BBC Two. Whelan lives in London with her husband and two children. She is starring in the third series of The Tower, currently on ITV1 and ITVX.
The Sarah Lee Chocolate Gateau – a must have at any 90s party. I have no idea whose birthday it was, but I remember doing this pose and my mom said, “Oh my god, it’s hilarious. Do that again!”
This is a pretty typical picture of me as a kid. Usually my brother or cousins would be distracted or picking their nose while I looked through the lens and made a silly face.
I was eight when we left Leeds for Solihull. It was 1989, we were in a recession and our family had to move when Dad managed to get a new job in the Midlands. This photo was taken in the dining room of the new house. Although it was exciting to go to a new school, it was a lot bigger than my previous village primary school. Change is confusing for a child and, looking back, I became slightly obsessed. I suppose I was looking for some level of control and security. But I can’t put it all down to the move – I also kept staying up watching 999 with Michael Buerk, which didn’t help.
Our house was always busy and hectic. My parents often hosted dinner parties and I was sometimes allowed to stay up late with them. During the day there was always a stream of people coming and going as Mum was a private tutor. She was well known in the area for helping children pass their 11+ exams: “If anyone can do it, it’s Sue Whelan!”
I was a bit strange at schoolbut I was nice. I was attracted to outsiders – people who were new, or who were bullied, or who were different or looked different – because they were much more interesting. I often felt like an outsider myself. Teachers would have described me as “spirited.” I was cheeky and charming. I don’t think I was ever disruptive or mean, but I was stubborn, defiant, especially towards authority. I still feel that way. Who doesn’t have a problem with authority? But I noticed that some people can take it better than I can. When it came to rules, my attitude was, “If I’m not allowed to do this, then tell me why. If it’s not a good reason, then I’ll do my own thing.” One time on a field trip I was so bored that I took off one shoe and started playing music in the street. We often had to call on the headmaster, but I could make the teachers laugh and so I usually got away with it.
Teachers would have described me as ‘temperamental.’ I was cheeky and charming, but I don’t think I was ever disruptive or mean.
Despite my preference I was often an introvert because I sought attention. As a teenager, I liked to be alone, going to the library or playing the piano in the music room. I wasn’t well – I had anorexia – so during the crucial times when I was going out and meeting boys, I was at home or in the hospital. I didn’t do drugs or smoke. I didn’t go to clubs either. My friends went to clubs and I was always turned away because I looked so young. I called my dad and said, ‘It didn’t work out this time.’ He said, ‘I’m on my way! Meet me outside McDonald’s.’ Instead, we sat on the sofa and watched TV together on Friday nights.
Related: Radio presenter Charlene White looks back: “I was racially abused for the first time in primary school. I realised that I was different and tried not to attract attention.”
Performances were my outlet. My parents met in amateur drama. My brother was in school plays. It was one of our family’s favourite activities. I had been dancing from the age of three and was in all the school plays and the National Youth Ballet. In sixth form a friend called Samantha Hopkins said, “You should be a stand-up comedian.” I was such a fan of Lucille Ball, Robin Williams, Eddie Murphy – these clownish, brilliant, quick-witted people. When I finally tried it at university, it was all a thrill. I realised that Samantha was right, I could do it, but it was also so terrifying that I couldn’t do it again for several years. When I got an agent, he said there was something about my eloquence that would work in comedy – I could test the limits of my voice with the depth of my delivery. That’s how Chastity Butterworth was born.
In my twenties I worked other jobs besides acting and comedy: mainly waitressing or helping out in the membership department at the Actors’ Center. I worked hard, didn’t make any money, but I stuck to my dream and was disciplined. Maybe that’s an attitude I take from my dance training. But I also knew I could experience hard things and get through them, and I put that down to being so sick in my teens. I had an unwavering belief that if I worked hard and kept going, life would turn out well.
It was true: in my early 30s, my career took off. I was in One Man, Two Guvnors and in 2012, Game of Thrones. That role opened doors for me. I didn’t train at Rada, I’m not from London – I took a very unconventional path and ended up on this huge show. It wasn’t like I was suddenly living in a huge mansion and driving a Mercedes, but it raised my status a little. The fandom never became a problem either. At conventions, people would sometimes say to me, “I came out because of you” or “I realised who I am because of your character”. It’s impressive.
Having kids was a huge turning point. I took them with me to every job. The balance of having my kids with me and still being on set for three hours every day was exactly what I needed. There was a dark tunnel at the beginning of motherhood – the first few weeks where I was a milk machine, where everything in my body felt broken, I couldn’t stop crying but I was still furiously learning lines. As intense as it was, it was incredible. And it was empowering, too. As soon as I pushed my first baby out, I thought: Women are fucking incredible!
It helps with motherhood that I’m still very playful and silly; much like the child in the photo. My party spirit was definitely at its peak when this photo was taken. I definitely prefer gatherings that involve wotsits, sausage rolls and music bumps. Now when I have to go out, the music is always too loud, I can’t hear what people are saying and I keep thinking that I’d rather be on the sofa watching Gilmore Girls.
When I look at the photo, I think: she’s definitely a little weird, but she’s also cool. I still have that defiance, but I’m less tied to the outcome. Less boorish in the sense of “either the way I do it or not at all”. It helps that I’ve done a lot of therapy. I trained as a yoga teacher. My husband is a psychotherapist and I have children. All of these things have softened me, for the better.
