You get told how “unattractive” you become to men when you prove yourself the emotional wreck they assumed you’d be. But how human it is, to sit here with my heart in my stomach and to know I have loved.

I do not know what it feels like to let something good exist without ruining it first. To not poke and prod, searching for cracks. To not leave before I can be left.

Just as men fall into archetypes, women, too, embody patterns in love and seduction. What happens when you stop chasing and start playing? And at what cost?

We chase the ones who won’t commit, crave the thrill of the chase over true passion. Unpacking the male archetypes who haunt us—and why we keep gambling with their affection.

The modern Frankenstein— shaping yourself into the conventional, only to be greeted with an unrecognizable reflection. Was changing everything worth losing all in the process?