Dissection Of Love

By: Starla Blatcher

I was in my first adult relationship right after I turned twenty-three years old. As a teenager, I pushed back on the idea of needing to lean on others because I knew I was more than capable of being strong through my own individuality. My partner taught me the true meaning of “people need people,” which is how my feature screenplay, Loveworm, was developed. Loveworm tells the story of commitment-averse journalist Holly Hayes. She believes that the world is black and white and that the only things that are real are the things that are right in front of her. The inward, mushy, gushy emotions are something she actively avoids. This changes after a mysterious parasite called a loveworm infects her. It’s a parasite that allows others to see infatuation and allow that guard in loving others to go down. The only way to get the loveworm out of your body is to be vulnerable with the people you love. The loveworm needs this vulnerability for survival. When it’s had enough, it leaves your body and finds someone else. If it isn’t satisfied? Then, by day seven of the sickness, you die.

The book Wired For Love by Stan Tatkin was gifted to me by my therapist. She stated that the best way to understand my anxious attachment style was to know what a secure relationship looks like through the eyes of scientists. 

“We learn to love ourselves precisely because we have experienced being loved by someone. We learn to take care of ourselves because somebody has taken care of us. Our self-worth and self-esteem also develop because of other people.” (Wired For Love, 2011)

In the film's very first scene, a young and innocent Holly is told by her mother that her stepfather will no longer be living with them. This is shown to understand Holly’s reasoning for why she is the way she is. She’s closed off to love after seeing her mother heartbroken and how easily it is for others to leave. Being an observer or witness to a failed relationship (or a multitude of relationships) plants this fear in the mind. And as she gets older, this fear grows worse and seems impossible to ever get over. Does a long-lasting, happy relationship exist? By the film's end, the lesson learned is, “I can’t worry about what will and won’t be. I need to do what makes me happy in the now.” Holly finds happiness in her love interest, Simon, and although her fears still bubble to the surface, she understands why she can’t give up all hope.

“Scientific evidence suggests that, from a biological standpoint, we humans have been wired largely for the purposes that are more warlike than loving in nature.” (Wired For Love, 2011)

We aren’t wired to understand others easily. Humans need patience, strength, and openness to be in a healthy relationship. In Loveworm, these are the qualities that Holly lacks. And these qualities are essential for growing up in an adult world. Holly looks at the world through a naïve lens, thinking that she deserves things to fall into place simply because that’s how the world should work. Although a great writer, she doesn’t take her journalism profession seriously. She believes she deserves a promotion to interview punk musicians, not because she’s worked hard and proven herself, but because she wants to get her way. She refuses to be a helpful friend because she dislikes being serious. Things become much worse after the loveworm completely shakes up her world.

“Not like other girls.” This phrase has been thrown around over recent years. And what does it mean? Well, it means you aren’t the typical feminine girl. This type of girl likes dresses, makeup, social media, and Starbucks. She is sweet, polite, docile, clean, shy, and submissive. And in the eyes of society, that makes you fragile. Because nothing is more fragile in society than a feminine girl, and this idealogy entered my brain as a young child. The qualities of a feminine girl relate to stupidity, weakness, and failure. The way to shield me from this label was to prove to others that I was different. Years later, I grew out of the idea that being feminine is weak. I could easily claim I loved fashion, makeup, and even the occasional Starbucks drink by the time I was out of college. I knew that this part of my identity had to be something included in Holly’s character because there is something to be said about how women fall into the qualities of a “typical feminine girl” when being in a relationship.

Holly fears falling in love because she fears vulnerability. The mushy, gushy feelings I talked about at the beginning of this essay are linked with being feminine. While men are seen in society as strong, stoic, providers, and workers, women are seen as the opposite. In a patriarchal society, the hierarchy of these qualities stands at the top of the food chain. So when women want to “not be like other girls,” we just want to be seen as something other than how we are typically categorized. We yearn to be seen as a whole, not just an idea. I mean, “not like other girls” and “cool girls” are oftentimes seen as better through the eyes of a man. Look at the “cool girl” monologue in Gone Girl. And the real surprise? All of these labels are as much of a facade as the “feminine girl.”

Holly is the epitome of a cool girl and a manic-pixie dream girl. She has blue hair and a septum piercing, loves rock music, and only focuses on partying and her work. After being flirted with on the train, she tells the man that she purposefully displays an “idea of a person” with a clear intention to block the real parts of her. Along with her comedy, this acts as another defense. While this idea comes apart throughout the story, we understand the sweetness, the tenderness, and the mushy, gushy feelings that make Holly who she is. 

Love is a sickness. One of my favorite quotes in television and movie history drives the point across very well.

“Love is awful. It’s awful. It’s painful. It’s frightening. It makes you doubt yourself, judge yourself, distance yourself from the other people in your life. It makes you selfish. It makes you creepy, makes you obsessed with your hair, makes you cruel, makes you say and do things you never thought you would do. It’s all any of us want, and it’s hell when we get there. So no wonder it’s something we don’t want to do on our own. I was taught if we’re born with love then life is about choosing the right place to put it. People talk about that a lot, feeling right, when it feels right it’s easy. But I’m not sure that’s true. It takes strength to know what’s right. And love isn’t something that weak people do. Being a romantic takes a hell of a lot of hope. I think what they mean is, when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope.” (Fleabag, 2016)

God, vulnerability is so important. It’s crazy how much of my life I’ve spent not telling enough people how I feel. One of the strangest and most delightful feelings is being seen by somebody who knows and loves you. And you’re being seen in all of your insecurities, your worst qualities, your grossness, your messiness, your trauma, and you’re still chosen. There’s something about that idea that makes my romantic heart flutter with joy.

If you are interested in reading Loveworm, click the link and request to read the full screenplay! Thanks for reading!