What’s the most annoying trope in books or movies?
I like love stories.
I like seeing two people care for each other, try to understand one another, and stand by each other through difficult times. There is nothing wrong with someone entering our life, becoming important to us, and making our life a little more beautiful.
But after watching so many movies and reading so many books, there is one thing that keeps bothering me.
Why does a woman’s happiness, her dreams, and sometimes her entire life so often revolve around one person?
A woman may have her own life, her own dreams, her own struggles, and her own likes and dislikes. But as soon as a man enters the story, the center of her life often seems to shift.
Her happiness becomes connected to him.
Her sadness becomes connected to him.
Her decisions become connected to him.
And sometimes, it feels as though her entire world depends on that one person.
I have no problem with love.
The problem begins when love becomes the whole meaning of a woman’s life.
Why do we see so few stories where a woman is simply living her life—spending time with her friends, working towards her dreams, facing her own struggles, and finding happiness in her own life without needing a romantic relationship to complete it?
And when a woman who is independent-minded is shown, she is sometimes portrayed as unnecessarily stubborn, rude, difficult, or someone who disagrees with everything just to prove that she is “independent.”
That feels strange to me.
Is that really what independence means?
Does an independent woman have to dislike being told anything?
Can she not fall in love?
Can she not care for someone?
Can she not have moments when she feels vulnerable?
To me, being independent does not mean staying away from everyone.
Perhaps independence means that I can want someone in my life without allowing my entire life to be defined by their presence or absence.
If a man enters my life, cares for me, understands me, and stands beside me, that can be beautiful.
But my whole world does not have to become his world simply because he has become a part of mine.
And then there is another thing that bothers me in stories—the way women’s friendships are often portrayed.
We have seen so many stories about male friendship.
Two friends stay together for years. They understand each other’s dreams. They stand beside each other during difficult times. Sometimes, one is even willing to risk everything for the other.
Their friendship is often shown as deep, loyal, and lifelong.
But what about women’s friendships?
In many stories, two women begin as very close friends. They know each other’s secrets, laugh together, cry together, and understand each other’s dreams.
Then a man enters the story.
And suddenly, that friendship begins to change.
Jealousy.
Misunderstandings.
Schemes.
And eventually, the best friend becomes the enemy.
Sometimes because of that man, and sometimes because of something else.
I am not saying that women never experience jealousy or conflict with each other. Of course they do. Friendships can fall apart.
But does it always have to be this way in our stories?
Why are male friendships so often portrayed as lifelong bonds, while female friendships are so often turned into competition?
Why are there so few stories where two or three women remain friends throughout their lives?
Where they do not feel threatened by each other’s success, but instead help each other achieve their dreams.
Where they travel together.
Fail together.
Start something new together.
Where their friendship remains strong even when they enter romantic relationships.
And most importantly, where their entire story does not change simply because a man enters or leaves their lives.
I am not asking for love stories to disappear.
I like love.
I value friendship too.
But perhaps our stories also need to show that a woman’s world can contain so much more than romance.
She can have dreams.
She can have work.
She can have her own identity.
She can have friends.
She can have days she spends entirely on her own.
She can have her own small reasons to be happy.
And perhaps the most beautiful thing is this:
A woman can be in love with someone and still live a complete life of her own.
Maybe we need more stories like that.
Stories where a woman is not simply a part of someone else’s story.
She is her own story.