Hey there,

I watched the new Frankenstein movie last weekend, and I was completely mesmerized.

If you haven’t seen it, I genuinely recommend it — especially with Thanksgiving weekend coming up, when you might have a little extra space to sit with a story that goes deeper than expected.

I almost didn’t watch it at all.

When my daughter suggested it, my first reaction was,
​“Nah… I don’t watch horror.”
​I never do. I don’t like inviting those images into my mind.
I’m like a child in that way. If you show me something, my whole being believes it’s real.

That’s why you’ll never find me watching violent films. I’d rather ignore the bad and trust that what we don’t feed eventually loses its power.

But I’m so glad I said yes anyway.

Because what struck me immediately in Frankenstein was that the Creature wasn’t frightening at all.

What I saw was a being longing for love and care, and I could see that it had feelings.

And then there was Elizabeth.

She was the only one who saw him the way I did, not as a monster, but as someone longing to be seen and cared for. Someone whose pure essence shone through the ugliness of his appearance.
She looked beyond his mask.
Beyond what everyone else thought he was — a monster.
​
And in doing so, she offered him recognition. She saw him for who he truly was.

Victor, the man who created the monster, couldn’t do it. He looked at his own creation with disgust and abandoned him. He didn’t even give him a name.

And then, at the very end, everything shifts.

In his final moments, Victor reaches for the Creature — touches his hands — and says:

“My son… forgive me.
If you have it in your heart, forgive yourself into existence.
While you are alive, what recourse do you have but to live.”

This is where I felt my heart crack open. I had tears in my eyes.

A father finally recognizes his son.
An apology.
A name: my son.
​An invitation to lay down rage, shame, and all the distorted ideas about himself…
and choose life.

I had tears in my eyes.

Because isn’t that what all of us need at times?

Someone to remind us that being alive in this very human, messy, earthly suit is the gift.
​
We don’t need to be perfect.
We don’t need to have everything figured out.
We don’t need the approval of others.
​
We only need the courage to say:

I’m here.
And I choose life.

And maybe that’s our Thanksgiving invitation this year — a two-fold one:

1. Noticing the masks people wear… and pausing before you roll your eyes.

The sibling who jokes their way through discomfort.
The uncle who talks too much because silence feels awkward.
The mom who needs everything “just right” because it’s how she feels safe.

Look beyond the mask.
And meet the tender human underneath.

2. And remembering that life is here to be lived.

Not perfected.
Not postponed.
Not held back until everything feels “right.”
Just lived fully while we are alive.
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And you might experience the quiet miracle of Thanksgiving:​
​When we look beyond the masks
and dare to choose life,
​Gratitude rises naturally.

May this Thanksgiving be a reminder of all three:
to see clearly,
to live fully,
and to let gratitude meet you right where you are.

🦃Happy Thanksgiving! 🥧

With love,
xx Antonie
​
​Do it before you die.
Stop waiting for someday.

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P.S.: Have you watched the new Frankenstein yet? I’d love to hear what stood out to you.

P.P.S.: If this story made you nod, smile, or breathe a little deeper, and you'd like to say thank you in a small but meaningful way, you can leave me a little tip (or coffee!) here:

☕ Caffeinated Radiance Tip.

Your support helps me keep creating and sharing my work from the heart. 💛

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