To my surprise, I’ve found myself writing a lot about Frankenstein over the last few days.

Not my usual fodder.

But while the movie is fresh in my mind:

(viewer discretion is advised)

At one point, Dr Victor Frankenstein visits a battlefield to collect some dead bodies to chop up back in his lab. Then he stitches together various body parts to create his monster.

So the monster has an elbow from one body, the eyes from another, the left buttock of another, and so on.

And through the power of a convenient thunderstorm (I didn’t quite follow the science), Frankenstein brings these body parts back to life.

Long story short, all the monster wants is Frankenstein’s love. 

Instead, Frankenstein runs for the hills.

Well, guess what?

I’d wager most of us have a bit of the monster in us. We’re stitched together like a patchwork from parts we didn’t choose (our parent’s expectations, our teacher’s criticism, the encouragement of a friend, and so on).

Then, just like the monster, we start looking for a bit of approval.

So we start to dismember ourselves. We hide some parts of us, learn to fit in and call this disguise our personality.

Maybe we tuck away our spark under layers of “shoulds”. Perhaps we stop laughing too loudly or dreaming too openly. Maybe we smooth over our rough edges and hold back on what we really think.

And it works.

“Isn’t Bob a lovely guy” they’ll say. “Isn’t Sandra so easy to work with!”

But for Bob and Sandra, there’s a nagging unease. Something feels off. Bob’s trying to look okay instead of be okay. Sandra has a vague sense she’s acting a part. And every decision feels like a test because they’re both trying to figure out the “right” thing to do.

Sooner or later, faking it just gets exhausting.

This is the moment Bob and Sandra might start to remember (re-member) who they are.

Thing is, Frankenstein’s monster wasn’t a monster because he was made of mismatched parts. Instead, the damage was done when Frankenstein ran away screaming.

But we don’t have to run away screaming from who we are.

So here’s my suggestion if you’ve got a mild case of the “Bob and Sandra’s”:

Gather up all the quirks, contradictions and rough edges you’ve been hiding. 

Not to parade them around necessarily, but just to stop all the editing.

Be a bit louder, speak more freely and dream a little bigger.

Frankenstein abandoned his creation. 

What would happen if you embraced yours?

To fulfilment,

Tom