This page will be a little different. I was once told to write letter to the people in my life who hurt me or who made a difference. I have sort of done that over the years. I plan to use this space to do just that. I won’t lie I have written one, and it’s weird. It probably will not be the last one that is weird and odd. It will probably make you go – ummmm what. Yet, it’s something I felt called to write, and I hope, even though it is a little different, you will get something out of it.
Dear Frankenstein’s Monster,
March 19. 2026
Most people have heard the story of your creator and how you came to be. There have been books and retellings since the original was published. Did you know that most refer to you as Frankenstein these days? Isn’t that a little ironic? I wanted to let you know how my fixation, obsession with you began, if that’s what this is. All I can say is that the older I get and the more I have survived, the more I feel as if I identify with you in ways that are both real and sad. I am no great writer or poet. This isn’t some attempt to make you see the good of what happened to you, or that there is a reason for all the tragedy that you suffered. I hate it when people say things like that. I have decided that I could have done with a little less of the things that made me who I am. At the end of the day, all those things make us who we are and who we have become, yet…. The journey isn’t an easy one. Please indulge me if you will in what I guess is a “FAN GIRL” letter. That sounds kind of cringeworthy, and I am sure you have received plenty of these over the years, so what is one more?
I had heard of you and your story, growing up, who hadn’t? Yet, it was just the basics, and I never bothered to watch or read any of them. Then in high school, a teacher showed one of your movies, to be honest, I cannot remember which one it was. I think the class was titled Liberal Arts. I felt moved by the story, but not like the other students. I felt drawn to you and sad for you and your loneliness. Your scars touched me, but not the ones you could see. It was almost as if the scars that showed on the outside went deeper, all the way to your soul. I knew what it was like to just want one person to love you, to be with you, to pick you, to be created for you. Yes, I understand that I was only a junior in high school. How could I even know what any of that felt like? That sir, is a story for another day and time. I do remember thinking I should read this book; the movies are never as good as the book. I never did read the book, and I still regret this (I guess I still have time). This mini hyper fixation lasted until the next one came along, sorry again I was a junior in high school with a boyfriend. I won’t lie, I forgot about you at the front of my mind, but I think you were always in the back of my mind.
Years passed, and when I was 27, I had a daughter who was beautiful to everyone. I had been married for 7 years; he was a nut (still is). I have no idea why, but he started calling her Frankenstein. There you were again, floating around in my head and my life. It was not really the same as it had been, and yet still there was something there. It became a thing to pick up little stickers, trinkets, and other miscellaneous items with your image. Boy, have they changed your image a lot since the beginning of your story. I will also let you know that there have been so many different re-imaginings and retellings of your story. You even have a section at a theme park now, as well as some of the other Universal Monsters. That’s a sort of club you belong to these days. Again, that’s kind of as far as the hyper fixation went this time around. Yet, this time it stayed.
Then, well, my life and my soul changed. My scars, my demons, my heart, and well, just about everything that could change in my life started too. I do not ever want to compare my breaking apart and putting myself back together to your creation, and yet in so many ways it feels the same, similar, and heartbreaking. I never saw any of it coming and never thought these things would happen, or to be honest, that it would draw me closer to you. That is because of what people term as “TRAUMA” would make me identify with someone most say is a “Monster”. If that is the case, then I can only assume that I am a “Monster” as well.
The world cannot see my scars, and honestly, very few people know them all. There haven’t been many people who have stayed in my life long enough to know how many, or even how deep, these unseen scars run. Hell, even I don’t see or feel them all every day. Then some days I see every one of them and feel them all so deeply it feels as if I cannot breathe or move. These days, I wonder how I am walking through a world that keeps moving on like none of it ever happened. I appear normal and paste on a smile to make myself seem okay, and yet on the inside, everything is broken and shattered. I know that you had it so much more difficult because people could see your scars and stare at you. That had to be awful, and yet somehow did they see you, really see you, make it better?
I can tell you, feeling not seen is awful. Actually, awful is not a strong enough word. You were built, yes, by a man with a God complex, created and given life. I was ripped apart by the very people and life that had promised to love me. The life the world had always said God gave me. I will leave God out of this, at this time. I do believe neither of us had a choice in how we obtained our scars, how we have dealt with our scars, yes, how we got them, no. According to Wikipedia – A scar (or scar tissue) is an area of fibrous tissue that replaces normal skin after an injury. Scars result from the biological process of wound repair in the skin, as well as in other organs, and tissues of the body. Thus, scarring is a natural part of the healing. This is how an outside scar is described. I guess an inside scar as well, it is a wound repair that you just cannot see. It takes place in our souls and in our hearts, maybe even in our brains. The scars on the inside are also a natural part of healing; they are just the ones the world cannot see.
As life threw all the things at me and my scars started to form, my soul and my heart started to change. I saw myself as unlovable, as ugly, as someone who wasn’t enough. This is when you, my secret friend, my long-lost but never forgotten hyper fixation came back to me. I started to identify with you and your story. The whys of maybe why you did the things you did, or felt the why you did. Even though none of what built you was your fault, you were seen as a monster, and you felt as if you were a monster. I was starting to see myself like that. I saw myself as someone who deserved the scars, as someone unlovable. I was a monster if everyone who should have loved me, who was supposed to love me, didn’t. I know it really is not the same, and yet it started to feel like we were kindred souls, as if we had something in common with one another.
If someone asked me why I liked you or even why I had a slight obsession with you, I was always honest. It started out with the story of the nickname and moved on to how, now as an adult, I identify with you. I honestly do not know if that is a good thing. On one hand, maybe it is because I know my need for others to love me is not always healthy; my need to be loved seems to be all-consuming, all while still seeing myself as a monster. I am like you, a monster born or made of the circumstances that life has dealt us, only wanting love and a companion to share it with. Is this healthy? I have no idea, I am not a therapist, have seen a few (more than), and I still use humor and sarcasm to get through life.
I am sure you are wondering why, out of all the people in all the world, in all the timelines, and all of that, I felt the need to write to you. I wanted you to know that you are not alone. I wanted you to know that somewhere in the world, in all the timelines, at least one person got it. I may not know exactly what you feel (again, everyone’s feelings are different), but on some level, I get it.
I can only hope that as time goes by, people start to see me as they have you. In some movies and books, you have become a loveable character. There are some others where you have become the hero. Would you believe that in some cases, you even have love? You have, in the end, given me a small place to belong and hope that one day these things can happen for me. The world was made better by your creation, and one day I hope I can believe that about myself. I mean I honestly doubt anyone ever makes me part of an amusement park, but I can hope for a purpose.
Thank you for never changing to fit and never really giving up on love.
Love you so Big,Your Fellow Monster
