“Love should make your world bigger, not force you to become smaller.”

Hi.

While I’m sitting here reading my cheesy little book, I suddenly wanted to tell you something. So, be ready for some real thoughts.

I love stupid romance. I love cheesy romance. I love the kind of romance that makes you roll your eyes, cringe a little, and then turn the page anyway. So this isn’t me being anti-romance. Quite the opposite.

But oh well… I hate grumpy × sunshine.

In books, in movies, everywhere. And I feel like I see it especially often in stories from my country. The girl is this beautiful, positive, loving human being, constantly smiling and radiating joy, and the guy is… angry. Cold. Miserable. Annoyed at everyone and everything.

And somehow, we’re supposed to think: She will change him.

But why?

If I’m already bringing warmth, positivity, love, laughter, and joy into my life, why would I want someone whose energy constantly pulls me in the opposite direction? Am I supposed to be that stupid?

And I know, I know. It’s fiction. It’s fantasy. He’s not actually going to ruin my life. I understand the appeal. There is something romantic about being the one person who gets to see the soft side of someone who seems cold to everyone else. But sometimes I’m reading and thinking: Girl, you don’t need to be his emotional rehabilitation program.

And then there’s another one that really gets me: the rich girl and the poor boy.

Again, I’m not saying people from different financial backgrounds can’t fall in love. Of course they can. Money isn’t a personality, and someone earning less than you does not make them less worthy of love. But that’s not always what these stories are doing.

Sometimes it’s a girl who has built a life for herself. She’s ambitious. She works her ass off. She has opportunities. She can buy the things she wants because she worked for them. She has standards and a certain lifestyle. And then the story introduces a guy who… doesn’t seem to have much going for him at all. And suddenly she has to “come down to earth” and discover that real love means giving up the life she worked so hard to build.

Why?

Why is the successful woman always the one who has to learn that her ambitions, standards, and lifestyle are somehow less important than love? Why can’t the love interest simply be someone who has less money but still has ambition, independence, goals, and a life of his own?

That, I can believe. I don’t care if he’s rich. I care if he’s going somewhere.

Maybe that’s why enemies to lovers works better for me. Because at least there is a believable emotional shift. You can dislike someone. You can misunderstand them. You can see them differently after spending time with them. You can discover something you didn’t know about them. Feelings can change.

Of course, there needs to be a line. If someone has genuinely hurt you or there’s some huge moral issue between you, I’m not going to suddenly find it romantic because he has pretty eyes. But when it’s just two people who clash, misunderstand each other, and slowly start seeing each other differently? Okay. I’ll buy that.

Maybe what bothers me about these other tropes is that they ask the woman to become smaller in order for the romance to work.

• Be less ambitious.
• Be more patient.
• Fix him.
• Understand him.
• Accept his negativity.
• Give up parts of your lifestyle.
• Lower your standards.

And somehow, we’re told that this is what real love looks like.

I don’t think it is.

I want romance. I want chemistry. I want tension. I want ridiculous declarations of love. I want the “I hate everyone but you” moment. I want to cringe so hard I have to put the book down for a second.

But I also want to believe the relationship makes sense. I want two people who genuinely like each other. Two people who make each other’s lives better, not harder. Two people with their own lives, ambitions, personalities, and standards who somehow fit together without one of them having to become less of themselves.

Maybe that’s just me. But when did incompatibility become romantic?

And more importantly… why are we so often asked to believe that a woman has to give something up to prove that her love is real?

I’m The Real Girl,,,,,. Still reading cheesy books, holding onto high standards, and waiting for tropes that actually make sense.

Current Mood:

Opinionated, cozy, and questioning bookish tropes.

Currently Thinking:

High standards aren’t a trope; they’re a lifestyle.

Currently Listening:

• It’s a Lie – The Vamps