Spoiler alert – if you don’t want to know what really happens in Your Monster, don’t read.

I was excited for a charming, modern twist to a redeeming, classic tale. But, the allure of mythical empowerment has Your Monster tight in its talons.

First, crafting art from emotional pain echoes the divine. I completely agree with writer and director, Caroline Lindy, as I’ve understood her interviews (I haven’t interviewed or met her): we must face our formidable rage. Ms. Lindy seems lovely. Your Monster draws from her own nightmare: when she was diagnosed with cancer, her boyfriend broke up with her. I can’t imagine a more catastrophic health and dating pair.

Parts of Your Monster caused hilarity: when the monster scares her in various scenes, or when she’s losing it after the break-up. I know exactly what losing it after painful break-ups is like, and the artists captured emotional pain with the perfect accents of desperation, despondency and dark humor.

Here’s my departure with the movie. I take issue with elements of the fictional plot, because they’re the devaluing, stock narrative for a sharp female audience: give everything to a man first, question him second.

My understanding of the plot: the heroine sacrificially supports her live-in boyfriend. When she’s diagnosed with cancer, he abandons her and finds Broadway success, including creating a role originally intended and best suited for her. It’s infuriating. She discovers a monster (an allegory for her inner rage) in her closet, who helps literally confront her rage and move on.

As she’s moving on, she finds her ex gratifying himself with her “friend”, who apparently reciprocates enjoying using someone. Right after this mangy exposure, the monster injures the ex. In a mangier scene, the heroine is intimate with the monster. Then, after confirming her ex is using her “friend”, and after being intimate with her monster, she chooses to again have sex with her ex. The movie concludes by fulfilling her dream of starring on Broadway, showcasing her incredible talent … while she’s murdering her ex.

Let me pause. I shouldn’t take this literally. The monster is just an allegory. The murder scene is what we wish we could do to boyfriends, who are bankrupt of consideration and character. Right?

After watching Your Monster, my takeaway is: with certain choices, it’s probably impossible not to morph into a monster. Mythical empowerment masks terrifying, beast-like decisional destruction. Culture tells women: it’s empowering to enjoy sex like men – sans emotional impact and the possibility of nurturing a new life. If only her “friend” in the movie didn’t believe this.

Men’s bad choices aren’t women’s fault. Women can choose genuine empowerment, instead of the mythical empowerment of the current, stock narrative. If you’re interested in a highly derided view: the dating order should be 1) learn about the man first, before you 2) share your most vulnerable emotional or physical experiences. You are too valuable to choose to be vulnerable with a man who hasn’t proved he values you.

The stock narrative for the feminine audience was hard at work in Your Monster. She sacrificially shares extremely valuable, vulnerable experiences with her boyfriend – all of her unique body, her unique home, her uniquely brilliant ideas. But, he hasn’t shared what makes a man vulnerable: his wallet, his meaningful commitment (marriage), his sexual exclusivity. She chooses to be the most physically vulnerable with her monster, not as a physical celebration for emotional euphoria or consequential commitment, but as a duller, common, get-to-know-you step.

In dating, men may use you, hurt you, and reject you. Just like women may use, hurt and reject men. For the used, rage is entirely justified and shouldn’t be ignored. Don’t get me wrong: emotional pain occurs, even if you don’t share the most vulnerable experiences with your ex. On a particularly cynical note, even if you find the best of men, and wait for marriage, he could still use and leave you. Happy reality, indeed.

But, if 100% of the time, certain choices disempower women, why does the stock narrative promote them? Why do fictional characters make decisions, which in reality, only amplify emotional chaos? In dating, women (and everyone) can’t totally avoid emotional chaos, but here are considerations for giving yourself the best shot for emotional peace:

• Rushed vulnerability is disempowering.
  • Don’t be too vulnerable, emotionally or physically, until he’s (or anyone has) earned your trust.
  • Earned trust takes precious time. Even when he lays down serious cash for you, you’re under no obligation to share more of yourself than is right for you. If he thinks he’s entitled to your affection, drop him. A good man will want to know if you’re romantically inclined toward him, but he can wait for your physical affection, until you’re ready. 
• Living with a boyfriend is disempowering.
  • Acting like a wife, when you don’t get the benefits of a wife, seems like a bad bargain. When he wants to step up, marry you, and treat you like a treasure, only then am I ok with treating him like a king.
• Letting a man enjoy your body for his ultimate pleasure before he’s ultimately committed (marriage) is disempowering. You’re too valuable to share your body with someone who uses your body fully but doesn’t fully take care of you.

If you doubt these arguably archaic choices are empowering, have you heard a friend in real life rave: living with him or giving him a great time without a consequential commitment is empowering? Or, have you heard it’s frustrating, draining and bitter-inducing? If only fictional characters have a cathartic ending, I don’t want their choices.

Genuine empowerment is curated from the opposite of the culture’s stock narrative. Women can do better than morally incontinent and emotionally sterile men. You’re not just another, who’s been wronged by a handsome fool. You deserve more than the culture’s disempowering stock narrative. Ditch the myth.