Women vs Monsters

Why do women romanticize monsters? 

Creatures, ghosts, inhuman entities..

I know many who favor the vampire, including myself. Yum. 

Let me preface this by saying obviously this doesn’t apply to everyone and this

is MY personal take on the matter. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way;

Why is it that the soft, supple, and beautiful archetype that is woman craves something seemingly so opposite? 

Is it true opposites attract, or does this call to something much deeper? 

Let’s dive in. 

What does the woman who craves the monster really desire?

My sisters who crave something more. Other-worldly. 

The desire does not lay only in the physical, because we are known to crush on the terrifying creatures hiding in the shadows just as much as the beautiful fae kings. 

It's what’s inside. Their soul. Their substance. Their certainty. 

It's how they will not allow her to feel inadequate, or to question her worth.

Men in the real world make her an option. To the monster, she is the only option.  

The bond that forms when an eternal creature bites her neck, consuming just enough of her life force to bind their souls for eternity.

The dance between pleasure and pain, the excitement of fear but the security of trust. 

The comfort of an incredibly powerful being softening at her touch. Only her touch.

She wants to be wholly enveloped. Embraced. Supported. 

Completely knocked off her feet by the burning passion and need her man can’t help but feel for her. The guttural aching yearning of a man, or thing, who would set the world on fire to allow her just one ounce of warmth. It is not sensible, it is not cookie cutter or white picket fence with a golden retriever and pastel colored shirts - 

no, that just doesn’t cut it. 

She wants to be whisked away to a surprise location and devoured like the sweetest honey, not ignored and cast aside so Brad can watch a bunch of grown men kick around a ball and yell at each other. 

The love she craves is beautifully dark and cruel, the desire so intense it steals her breath away and sends shivers down her spine. The anticipation of their touch prickles goosebumps across her skin, and liquid heat courses through her veins every time they’re around.

A delicious mix of desire and fear flutters around in her belly, and she likes it. 

The feeling makes her heart pump with adrenaline. Excitement. Life. 

Splitting the bill with a man who can’t even make her orgasm, let alone cares if she does, will never measure up. 

That brings me to my next curiosity. 

How are we able to enjoy fear? The concept would leave most men puzzled. 

When we read our dark fantasy romance novels we run into tropes that many deem taboo, or what could only be a response to trauma. 

If you enjoy these depraved ideas then you yourself are depraved, and need therapy. 

While that may be true, I don’t think it's that simple. 

What are women not receiving from men that is causing them to want to fuck Dracula? It must be significant.

In my own personal experience, it's something as simple as effort.

I can call upon countless times where in the presence of a man I was entertaining, all I could do was internally scream obscenities. 

Lack of passion, empathy, presence…

Weaponized incompetence - at every turn.  

Our attempts to communicate, dismissed as nagging. 

We don’t want to lead, we don’t want to make every decision. When we are forced to live in our masculine energy all the time, because if we don’t, nothing will get done, resentment starts to grow and spread. 

We have been forcibly dealt the shit end of the relationship stick throughout history, while men and brainwashed women try to convince the rest of us that we want a life of humble breeding servitude under a male's control.

In lue of this - we have resorted to creating our own men. 

Women are crafty creatures after all. 

Now let's circle back to our beloved book boyfriends. It’s no coincidence that male characters written by women are so meaningful to us. 

We are always told we are too complex, too hard to understand - but no one ever tries to understand. There is countless reading material, thousands of books offering a written blueprint of what we want - pages and pages of extremely descriptive details, and yet, it's still a mystery to them. You would think a gender revolving around getting laid would care more about what women actually desire, but we have been proven wrong on that front again and again. Women have been disappointed, over-promised and under-delivered for decades - and it continues. It makes sense to me why we have created our own ideal partners to pine for through the pages because it seems men have simply lost the art of yearning. 

Thousand year old creatures know how to yearn, make us feel wanted, needed.

They fall in love and completely embrace that love, they don’t do situation-ships.

Women want security. We crave a space so safe we are free and comfortable to flourish and create. We have the ability and natural pull to nurture, build, love, emanate beauty…..but we cannot give and give and give, we must be equally poured into. The men in our books unequivocally pour into us. 

They remember the little things.

They notice the subtle hunger in your eyes when you admire the paintings in your local cafe - and surprise you with brushes and canvas, knowing you want to take a leap and just need a little push. They notice. They notice you only ever wear gold jewelry, so would never dare to get you silver.

They notice your body language and when it speaks to them, they listen. 

They pay attention when you speak, they could never forget your favorite foods or what scents you love and what scents you hate.

They speak life into you, will never let you doubt your beauty and how beautiful you are to them specifically. 

They don’t let a single day go by where you feel neglected or unappreciated.

You never question their devotion. 

They make you feel like the only one, not the one for now. 

Their eyes darken with passion, and you know in your bones their attention wouldn’t be swayed by anyone or anything, that’s how secure they hold you. They may be a 500 year old vampire or fae- shifter creature that could kill you with one squeeze of their muscular hand, but that’s what makes it so much better. They have the power to kill, ruin, abuse……but they don’t. They would never. Their love for you is so strong it completely alters their own natural instincts, the ultimate sacrifice, the ultimate love.

If you give us the tools, we will make magic. 

Our monsters embrace our abilities and want us to be at our most powerful, they are not in competition with us. They do not let their ego rule. They are very dominant but make it very clear, we are in control. They are fueled by serving us, worshipping us, pleasing us - but remain the strong backbone that so gracefully protects and shields us. 

Everyday we are met with men who fear commitment more than anything at all.

They do anything in their power to keep their distance - always feeding you just enough affection and pretty words to keep you there, around, in their own personal limbo for when they’re ready to play with you. Then back out into the uncertain cold, where you sit with your thumb hovering over the send button on a text that reads “what are we?”

while he swipes on Hinge looking for another, better version of you. 

Our book boys would never.