Constance Wu is opening up more about those viral Fresh Off The Boat tweets, what was actually the real reason for them, and how the reaction to those tweets drove her to the psych ward.
Back in 2019, the 40-year-old actress received major backlash for her tweets frankly stating her displeasure at Fresh Off The Boat being renewed for a new season. She posted at the time that she was “literally crying” and said it was because she had to turn down a passion project due to the renewal.
However, she recently revealed that the real reason for her strong reaction was because of on-set harassment she had experienced from a producer on the show.
Now, Constance is shedding more light on what she experienced.
In her new memory Making A Scene, Constance alleged that she faced harassment from an unnamed co-worker on the series. She said the man in question had a particular catchphrase for her – “You do what I say.” She shared:
“In an industry where I hadn’t yet earned my stripes, I was grateful for his support.”
Constance then said that this support came at a cost:
“[He] demanded a direct line to me at all times. Somehow he got my cell phone number before we’d even started filming. When my agents tried to negotiate business matters on my behalf, he intervened by calling me directly, annoyed that he hadn’t known about it first. Scolding me until I felt guilty and apologized.”
She claimed that eventually, their conversations “started bleeding over into my personal life,” adding:
“He told me the way he preferred my hair… Told me I looked better in short skirts and should wear them more often ‘while you still can,’ he’d say with a smirk. He kept tabs on all areas of my life: what other acting jobs I was auditioning for, which publicist to choose, what I wore in interviews, what parties I should go to, who I needed to be friends with, what I did in my spare time. He asked to see pictures of my female friends and would tell me if he’d f**k them or not. He constantly questioned me about my dating life, past and present.”
Constance went on to state:
“I didn’t complain about his behavior because I didn’t think I was upset about it. I liked him — he was easygoing, funny, and in the know. I’ll admit that I sometimes even enjoyed it; it felt good to feel like part of the boys’ club.
So even when he got a bit power trip-y, I always did what he said. When he became controlling, I let him, rationalizing that he did know the industry better than I did. When he was downright offensive, I came up with tricks to play along without entirely compromising myself.”
According to Constance, this “was annoying but tolerable.” But things changed one night when they attended a Lakers game together. She alleged that the person put a hand on her bare thigh, commenting on its smoothness. She protested and he told her to “relax,” continuing to move his hand upwards “to graze her crotch.”
At that point, she said “Dude. C’mon, stop. STOP!” He allegedly did so and then commenting on how “big” her arms were. Constance declared:
“Aside from that basketball game, he never touched me inappropriately. To be honest, it didn’t feel like a big deal at the time. I was fine. Happy, even! I was genuinely grateful for his support, and it made him feel good to protect me, too. It was a win-win situation where he was the helpful to my helpless.”
As the series became a success, she said she “wasn’t so helpless anymore,” writing:
That’s what I started getting tired. Tired of [the man’s] cues for excessive shows of gratitude, tired of the casual sexism, tired of him keeping tabs on all areas of my life.”
She started to say no to “all the extra stuff,” including an appearance at an Asian American film festival. It was this refusal that resulted in a screaming match in her trailer:
“Whatever it was we’d had was over.”
She alleged they “didn’t speak” for the rest of the show’s run.
Constance likewise opened up about how her Twitter controversy landed her in the mental hospital. She said that she had been given permission to work on other projects, and that the sudden renewal for a sixth season took her “by surprise.” She explained:
“Because of my studio contract, I’d have to drop everything else — all the exciting jobs that the network had given us permission to pursue — and return to FOTB. The fresh start I’d looked forward to would have to wait.”
She revealed that her troubled time on the show meant that the renewal left her with “overwhelming” feelings, like “a tsunami crashing through my body.” Constance said:
“I had kept my head down and tolerated the discomfort for so long, trying to preserve everything for everybody else, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. I needed to put my feelings somewhere other than my own body, which was at capacity.
I didn’t think about the lack of context, didn’t care how bad it looked… I didn’t care how I sounded; I just needed to finally make a sound… I unleashed all my built-up feelings on social media.”
Speaking about the backlash she received, Constance said:
“The backlash was immediate. Ungrateful b**ch. How dare she. Boo-hoo poor actress has to go back to her high-paying job!
Then there was the schadenfreude that always follows a big social media scene. Seeing someone who was always so practiced suddenly lose control — was entertainment. I became a headline, a meme, a springboard for righteous opinion. An ungrateful girl making a scene.”
As all this was going on, she “stopped looking” at social media but still got DMs through email. One in particular from a former co-star impacted her greatly:
“[She told] me that nothing I could ever do would make up for my atrocious behavior and disgusting ingratitude. How I had sullied the one shining beacon of hope for Asian Americans. How selfish I was to not consider everyone else’s jobs on the show.
She demanded I bake cookies for and grovel at the feet of [my co-star] Randall [Park] and every single crew member of FOTB but said even that wouldn’t be enough to make up for what I’d done. She told me how the show had been her nephew’s favorite, and how I had ruined it for him. That I’d devastated him and I would never, ever be able to make up for it.”
Constance said that DM made her “feel helpless and desperate, my heart full of sharp tacks,” and revealed:
“Why wouldn’t she believe my remorse? That I hurt as badly as she wanted me to? My head spinning, I realized I needed a wound to prove it, to prove that I hurt as bad as everyone said I deserved to hurt and it couldn’t be a little wound, it had to be the biggest wound in the world for it to be enough.
That’s how I ended up clutching the balcony railing of my fifth-floor apartment and staring wildly down at the NYC street below with a reckless despair so total that my body ceased being a body and became a sound so dangerously high-pitched it was like nails on a chalkboard or a violin string pulled tight enough to cut flesh. The sound coursed through me and out of my fingertips like electricity as I started pulling myself over the railing.”
A friend found her in time, called her publicist for help, and thus she would up at the psychiatric ER of a mental hospital:
“I was dizzy, my puffy eyes blurred by tear-engorged contact lenses, my mouth pasty with unbrushed teeth, my hair in shambles because they even took away my hair elastics for fear I’d hurt myself with them.
I spent that night on a cot in the empty waiting room, under surveillance. Weeping until the exhaustion wore me out. The next morning, I told the two intake counselors what happened. That I almost jumped. That I’m very impulsive… That I needed help.”





