So, I gave in to the hype and watched Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein. Spoilers ahead…
If you’re unfamiliar with the tale, which…I doubt you are, but I feel like I have to explain anyway, Victor Frankenstein is a brilliant, but troubled scientist. After losing his mother as a young boy, he becomes obsessed with playing God and creating life—but better. With some funding from an eccentric man with more money than he (or anyone) needs, Victor’s able to do just that. After a dark and stormy night, he shocks life into a corpse…creating the monster.
Frankenstein was a beautiful film (Literally. So aesthetically pleasing.), and Jacob Elordi deserves to win some kind of something for his role as the monster. But it was heavy. Even for a woeful woman like me, ha. So I chased it with the campy, palate-cleansing ’90s comedy, Death Becomes Her—a movie about two vain frenemies who take an anti-aging potion and fight each other to the death.
And it turns out both movies had the exact same themes.
In both Frankenstein and Death Becomes Her, the main characters’ actions are driven by their rage. The monster understandably resents his jealous, abusive creator. He hadn’t asked to be born, and yet he was thrust into his cold, dead body and forced to exist in a cruel world of no fault of his own. And while his creator does go through some trials, the brunt of the suffering lands squarely on the monster’s shoulders. Everywhere he goes, humans are terrified of him. And because he’s, well, an immortal monster, he’ll likely be alone forever.
The same goes for the ladies of Death Becomes Her. After decades of a jealous, catty back-and-forth rivalry that ends up hurting both of them, the two women, wanting to one-up each other, seek out the services of a magical, wealthy woman offering up eternal youth. The problem? They can never truly die. Even when their skin peels and their bones break, they have to continue their upkeep for all eternity. It’s the price they paid for their bitterness towards each other. And, just like the monster, they’ll be alone together, forever.
I think both films explore how unforgiveness can keep you stuck. Suspended in a state of resentment. Never growing, yet still decaying.
I’ve definitely been there. Replaying hurtful words and moments over and over again, wondering “why me?” Watching as time ticked on and the world turned around me. But I just couldn’t move on. I couldn’t understand why I was here to suffer, while people who hurt others gleefully skip away into the sunset.
I became the monster.
Nothing was my fault, just like nothing was the monster’s fault. He didn’t deserve anything that happened to him, and his anger toward his creator is totally justified. But anger doesn’t undo what’s been done. It only keeps you anchored, feet planted, with a seed of resentment sitting in your chest.
At some point, that seed gets watered and grows into a tangled weed.
But it doesn’t have to be that way.
It’s true, the monster can’t unmake himself. He can’t become more pleasing to the eye. Can’t convince mortals to treat him better or see his humanity. But he can see his own humanity. And he can choose not to carry the weight of his creator’s sins.
On the other hand, the two women from Death Becomes Her let their pride and egos drive them into hurting themselves. No one made them that way. They let their anger consume them until there was nothing left of their hearts. But, unlike them, you can choose to let that hate go before you turn yourself into a monster.
I used to be so confused by the concept of forgiveness. I guess I still am. How can you forgive someone who hurt you? Or made you doubt yourself? Or made you feel small? In my mind, they don’t deserve it.
But I’m learning that forgiveness isn’t about absolving that person of accountability. It doesn’t erase or justify what was done. It simply unshackles you from the weight of it all. And makes moving forward a bit easier.❤️
If you have any advice for letting go of hurt and making room in your heart for forgiveness, please share with us!
I know this might be weird, but I don't hate things or people. I believe I realized long ago not to let things get to me. Now, that doesn't mean I am immune, cause I do have my moments of irritability and I will let things get to me. But overall, I just don't get bothered.
It helps, even just a little, to remind myself that there's more to the story that I don't know. The typical, "maybe this person was having a bad day," or "someone hurt them in order for them to act that way." I try to stay or become curious about them. And remember the times I hurt people when I knew better. It makes room in my heart to consider taking another glance. Even if I don't fully (or at all) forgive them per se. I can see them a little softer.
I know this might be weird, but I don't hate things or people. I believe I realized long ago not to let things get to me. Now, that doesn't mean I am immune, cause I do have my moments of irritability and I will let things get to me. But overall, I just don't get bothered.
It helps, even just a little, to remind myself that there's more to the story that I don't know. The typical, "maybe this person was having a bad day," or "someone hurt them in order for them to act that way." I try to stay or become curious about them. And remember the times I hurt people when I knew better. It makes room in my heart to consider taking another glance. Even if I don't fully (or at all) forgive them per se. I can see them a little softer.