Okay, spill the tea, ladies. 🍷 Last Thursday, I canceled a fifth date with a guy who kept “forgetting” I’m allergic to shellfish (but remembered to Venmo request me for his overpriced cocktails). As I sat there deleting his “u up?” texts, my dog-eaten copy of Jane Eyre glared at me from the nightstand. Suddenly it hit me: Brontë’s plain-Jane heroine would’ve ghosted this clown after Date 1. Which got me thinking—why do we ignore red flags we’d easily spot in our favorite fictional heroines?
Let’s get cozy and unpack this. I’ve been devouring novels about fierce women since my Judy Blume days, but it took a pandemic-era breakdown (and three terrible Hinge dates) to realize: The books we love are secret manuals for intentional dating. Here’s how literary badasses from 1847 to 2024 are schooling me on self-worth:
1. The “Rochester Complex” Isn’t Romantic – It’s Trauma (Thanks, Charlotte Brontë)
We all sighed when moody Mr. Rochester called Jane Eyre his “equal.” But let’s revisit Chapter 23 where he literally dresses as a GYPSY to manipulate her feelings. 🚩 Modern translation: Love-bombing followed by negging. Jane’s power move? Leaving his gaslighting ass (and inherited fortune) to literally freeze on a moor. Yet how many of us stay for the “I can fix him” fantasy?
Current read The Husbands by Chandler Baker nails this: When a lawyer moves to a Stepford-esque suburb where husbands actually do chores, she discovers the Stepford-wives-style secret. It’s not magic—it’s weaponized competence. Which brings me to…
2. “He’s Just Bad at Texting” = “He’s Just Not That Into Your Humanity”
Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale isn’t about dating… until you realize Offred’s horror stems from men viewing her as a function (womb) rather than a person. Fast-forward to last month when a finance bro told me my “best feature” was being “low maintenance.” My response? Channeled Celie from The Color Purple: “I’m poor, Black, I might even be ugly… but I’m here.” Mic drop.
3. The Subtle Art of Dodging “Potential” Projects
Here’s where Normal People by Sally Rooney wrecked me. Connell’s anxiety makes him ghost Marianne repeatedly—a pattern I’ve excused as “he’s just insecure!” But re-reading it post-therapy? Marianne’s childhood trauma (not love) kept her tolerating crumbs. Sound familiar?
Your Homework (No, Really):
– If he dismisses your passions: Reread Little Women’s Jo March burning her “silly stories”
– If he’s allergic to accountability: Study Circe turning narcissistic men into pigs (literally)
– If you’re settling for “meh”: Let Eat Pray Love’s pasta scene remind you: You deserve joy, not just content
Final thought? Last night I annotated The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo while sipping Malbec. Evelyn’s line “Don’t let them make you feel ordinary” hit different. So I texted the shellfish guy: “Turns out I’m allergic to bullshit too ✌️.”