The Word No One Wants to Hear: Conservatorships, Control, and the Case of Wendy Williams

Conservatorships. A legal term that was once an obscure part of the judicial system is now a buzzword, thrown around with the weight of celebrity scandal and public outcry. The first time I truly understood what it meant was during the #FreeBritney era.

Like many Gen Z activists, I didn’t need much convincing to chant “Free Britney” once I saw the evidence—years of financial, legal, and personal control over a woman who was not only a global pop icon but also clearly capable of performing, working, and living. I deep-dived into the world of Britney Spears, consuming every documentary, every fan theory, and every TikTok breakdown of the legal stranglehold she was under. And then, it happened—Britney was freed. Justice was served, and the world rejoiced, watching her twirl in her kitchen, reclaiming her life. But the echoes of her struggle lingered, resurfacing in the story of another icon: Wendy Williams.

Wendy Williams: The Fall of a Media Powerhouse

For years, Wendy Williams was an institution in Black entertainment. The gossip queen, the shade-throwing oracle, the woman whose Hot Topics segment was a must-watch for anyone with even a passing interest in pop culture. For many of us, staying home from school sick meant a Wendy, Maury, and Jerry Springer marathon—the holy trinity of daytime chaos.

Wendy wasn’t just another host; she was the culture. And ironically, she was one of the loudest voices during the #FreeBritney movement. Who could forget her infamous “Death to all of them!” moment when she called out Britney’s conservatorship handlers? She saw the injustice for what it was. Which makes it all the more gut-wrenching that she later found herself trapped in a similar situation.

Wendy’s conservatorship began quietly, with reports of erratic behavior and health struggles. Wells Fargo froze her accounts, claiming she was of “unsound mind,” effectively stripping her of financial control. Documentaries surfaced—some made without her consent, some seemingly exploitative of her vulnerable state. The media painted a picture of a woman in decline, fueling conspiracies about who was really controlling her. Unlike Britney, whose movement had a clear goal, Wendy’s story has been murkier. She fought it, but by the time she was able to regain some power, the damage was done. Her iconic purple chair? Gone. Her show? Taken over by Sherri Shepherd. And while Sherri is a great host, let’s be honest—no one can replace Wendy’s unique brand of unfiltered chaos.

The Double-Edged Sword of Conservatorships

Conservatorships aren’t inherently evil. At their core, they exist to protect those who truly cannot care for themselves—people with severe disabilities, degenerative illnesses, or those in critical financial distress. When used correctly, they can ensure someone is housed, fed, and not exploited. But when abused? They become prisons with invisible walls.

The problem lies in the lack of oversight. Once a person is placed under a conservatorship, escaping it can be nearly impossible, even if they regain their ability to function independently. The laws vary wildly by country and state, making it difficult to ensure that individuals aren’t being trapped for financial gain. And here’s the scary part: Britney and Wendy are just the cases we see. There are thousands—likely millions—of non-celebrities in conservatorships, stripped of their autonomy with no fan movements rallying for their freedom.

Who Needs a Conservatorship?

This is where the conversation gets uncomfortable. Because as much as we criticize the system, we also acknowledge that in some cases, intervention is necessary. The name that often comes up in these debates? Kanye West. But here’s the thing—conservatorships shouldn’t be wielded as a weapon of punishment. Just because someone is controversial or erratic doesn’t mean they should lose their rights. The line between protection and control is razor-thin.

So, what’s the solution? Stricter regulations? More transparency? Public oversight? Probably all of the above. What we do know is that conservatorships shouldn’t be a death sentence for independence, and the voices of those under them—whether they’re global superstars or everyday individuals—deserve to be heard.

FINAL THOUGHTS (AND A DISCLAIMER!)

I’m not a lawyer. But I am a child of Destiny’s Child, so I know a thing or two about being a survivor. Conservatorships are complicated, messy, and often heartbreaking. But if Britney’s story taught us anything, it’s that no one should be held captive against their will—especially not by a system meant to protect them.