I have asked myself time and time again: Why is Twilight so mesmerizing to me?

In 2023 I re-read New Moon, and a few months ago I rewatched Twilight, a yearly ritual. The magic never goes away.

Why is it that despite understanding and having deeply analyzed the story’s shortcomings and the toxic relationship between Bella and Edward, this story still captures my imagination every time?

When people ask me if I’m Team Jacob or Team Edward, I’ve always answered: I’m Team Bella. I don’t care about either of the guys. I don’t like Twilight because I’m in love with the men. I like it because of Bella. Yes, the very much accused of being a non-character, Bella Swan.

Twilight isn’t a romance. Twilight is a character study of female adolescence.

Very much like Bella, at 17 I felt there was nothing special about me. I had no idea why any men would like me. Much like her, I felt I was “not like other girls”, and felt at odds with traditional femininity. What (I perceived) was asked of me from the mainstream to be considered an acceptable woman, didn’t resonate with my nature, and so I assumed my femininity was flawed, and nobody could feel attracted to me.

Feeling that way, coupled with my all consuming feelings of loneliness and thirst for love at the time, made the attention of a “perfect” vampiric creature a dream come true.

Unlike aloof Bella, I did dream of a life partner. Someone who would (finally) understand me. Who would like me for exactly who I was, who wouldn’t make me feel like an inadecuate woman. I dreamt of being married, loved, and understood. But I couldn’t say all of this outloud. Back in the 2010s, that wouldn’t be very girlboss of me. It was embarrasing to admit that all I wanted was to be accepted and loved. It was an era of «I don’t need anybody, I can do it all!» Although wanting to be accepted and loved are human desires, even to this day, but specially back then, it’s considered cingey to say “I dream of a perfect romance” as a teenage girl. You are put in a category of airheaded romantic (in a bad way) who can’t fend for herself.

If teenage girls confuse their need for acceptance and love, for a need for romance, I don’t blame them. In our American (as in, the continent America, not USA the country) culture we’re fed from a young age we’ll find all fulfillment in a romantic partnership. And yet, society looks down on women for desiring that connection so badly when we feel lonely. You can hear that criticism loud and clear in anti-Twilight discourse.

Twilight is a story where an average teenager gets thrown into a world of magic, and despite her insecurities, is “loved” (terrible view of what love is in this text, but that’s a subject for another day) unconditionally by a magical creature.

The fact that I was ashamed of wanting romance didn’t stop me from desiring it. Twilight is the story of a woman who gets adventure, love, and power. She doesn’t have to change to be a part of this exciting story, to become the recipient of that “love”. When she changes into a vampire it’s because she chooses to do so, not a requirement to be loved.

Why is Twilight so hated? The haters cannot stand the truth of young women’s desires. They yell at them to desire something else, while upholding the structures that provoque those desires.

Twilight is not the illness, it’s the symptom of a romance-centric, nuclear-family-centric society. It’s a bare look at the consequences of many sexist beliefs. It’s modern traditional heterosexuality taken to its ultimate consequences.

Twilight is a mirror, and we hate to see ourselves as we truly are.

I saw this interview clip of Robby Patsy back in the day criticizing Twilight for being too personal. “like it was a book that wasn’t supposed to be published”, he says, “sometimes you feel uncomfortable reading this thing.” Then he adds “and it’s very honest, it’s really, really honest; that’s kind of what’s weird about it.”

Stephenie Meyer, bless your soul, thank you for daring to show your fantasies. Because in seeing your fantasies, I realized I wasn’t the only teen feeling inadequate and unremarkable. Because through your book, I lived the fantasy of going through a supernatural adventure, and being unconditionally loved. Because I realized -as Contrapoints mentions in her Twilight video, quoting Žižek- that if this dream became true, it would be a nightmare.

By holding the Twilight mirror to myself, it forced me to confront my own ideologies. Because step one of change for the better, is seeing the problem.

I appreciate a writer who dares to show their worldview unfiltered, no matter how flawed the ideology. I find it more valuable than a perfectly polished piece with the “right” opinions. There’s nothing more liberating, more wonderful, than truth, however ugly it may be. Because with full transparency, you can actually start working things through, moving forward. The mirror opened my eyes. Seeing parts of myself and my fantasies materialized, it was easier for me to disect them, rearrange them, and work through my issues.

Stephenie Meyer put in words the truths about my lonely-teen desires, and in doing so, she made me feel validated; “I’m not the only one who feels this way, who wants these things.” It sounds counter-intuitive, but this validation is actually key for change and growth.

Also, this story has immacualte vibes!