It's love and hate.

Twilight. Ahh, the age of Vampires is back.

I didn't jump on the Twilight bandwagon right away. I figured if
millions of teenage girls clamored after something, it wasn't anything
that I wanted to get within a hundred miles of. I only succumbed when my cousin Aprille
brought all four books to me, and insisted that I read them. She's
close my age, married and with two children of her own- and extremely
cool. She's one of those "I can do anything, and will" kind of people,
with this creative energy that is both enviable and inspiring. But I
digress.

I opened the first book, and started reading. My eyes
got really big, and I kept reading. Within the next 48 hours, I had
read all four books. I was hooked. I got the movie, too, and have
watched it about twenty times already. I can't get enough. 

The
books are really well written, because desire just drips off the pages.
I'm
supposing that it's her BYU education that kept the characters from
ripping each other's clothes off until they were married,but I found
that I didn't mind it so much. I'd never do that personally, but that's
beside the point. I loved the books. I loved the way she wrote such
desire. It (literally) made me tingle, and in all the right places.

The movie- it's bad. I hate the movie now. Well, at first, the movie
was great.
Beautiful people filled the screen, and made me believe that perhaps
the fantastic could exist. I watched it time and time again, only the
more I watched, the worse it got. I realized that the acting was- well,
it's horrible. While the words Edwards says are beautiful, his delivery
is horrible. He's supposed to be smooth, and instead he's choppy and
awkward.

I realized, as in many areas of life, that it's
not the movie I love, despite how many times I watch it, and how many
times more I will watch it. It's not Edward that I love. It's the idea
of Edward, or someone like him.
The idea of man who tells me that he feels very protective of me. The
idea of a man who loves me more than he's ever loved anyone else. The
idea of a man who wants nothing more than to shelter me. I also realize
that it's not a very feminist idea- but then again, maybe it's the
ultimate in feminist ideas.  I can be strong, sexy, work hard, and be
determined- and
still I can let someone love me.

I keep feeling like we women
today are selling ourselves short. Men aren't required to court us or
lavish us with their attention. They aren't really required to win us.
Girls go out of their way to get a guy to notice them, not the other
way around. We're so desperate for the fairy tale, that we don't
realize just how disposable we are creating ourselves to be. I think we
should learn to conquer our fear. There's this almost frenzied fear,
that we'll be alone, old and ultimately unattractive. No one will want
us. Our skirts get shorter, our makeup gets heavier, our cleavage more
prominent. I'm not suggesting that we dress in burkas, but perhaps we
should take a minute to see that we're just not making them try hard
enough. 

Instead of being a precious jewel, we're the plastic
rings in the coin machine. Put a quarter in, and one comes out, every
time. 

Not this girl.

 

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