Scary Realization

What if your daughter, sister, friend was in a serious relationship with a man who was very jealous, easy to anger, and controlling? What if he lied to her and hid things from her to control her better? What if he manipulated her into doing things she didn't want to do, and used her love for him against her? What if he told her what she could or couldn't do? Or, who she could or couldn't spend time with? What if he knew what was best for her and, therefore, made all her decisions for her? Well, meet Edward Cullen from Stephanie Meyer's "Twilight" series.

I'm know I'm going to have a lot of people mad at me for this post, so let me apologize ahead of time. I'm sorry, but this love story isn't all that great, in my opinion. It worries me that Meyer has created this "ideal" man in Edward. Edward is described as being perfect in every way. Okay, sure, you could argue that's just Bella's opinion but as the author, I think she's in there somewhere. This is supposed to be an ultimate love story, after all! What do you do when your heroine is so blindly devoted and in awe of a guy that she doesn't see him for what he really is: borderline abusive?

There are countless examples in the books of Edward exhibiting the warning signs. He manipulates her to do things she doesn't want to do. He lies to her to get to her to do things. He uses Charlie to manipulate her. He keeps her from her friends. He has a bad temper; he yells at her. He controls her. He puts her down. Don't believe me? Here are some examples directly from the books:

"You're taking me to the prom?" I yelled. It was embarrassingly obvious now. If I'd been paying any attention at all, I'm sure I would have noticed the date on the posters that decorated the school buildings. But I'd never dreamed he was thinking of subjecting me to this. Didn't he know me at all? He wasn't expecting the force of my reaction, that was clear. He pressed his lips together and his eyes narrowed. "Don't be difficult, Bella."
"Why are you doing this to me?" I demanded in horror. I was mortified. The angry tears rolled over my cheeks.

"No! No! NO!" Edward roared, charging back into the room. He was in my face before I had time to blink, bending over me, his expression twisted in rage. "Are you insane?" he shouted. "Have you utterly lost your mind?" I cringed away, my hands over my ears."

Edward snarled in fury.

Edward grabbed my face in his hand, forcing me to look at him.

Edward pulled me back again, his arms restraining instead of defending.

"No werewolves."
"I'm not going along with that. I have to see Jacob."
"Then I'll have to stop you."

As the disturbing vision struck again, I knew exactly why I was dissatisfied with my liberty. Because it was incomplete. Sure, I was free to go to anywhere I wanted--except La Push; free to do anything I wanted--except see Jacob.

But what could I say? I knew I wouldn't be allowed to hit a werewolf party, even with parental supervision.

I don't know how long I stood there weighing the pros against the cons--doing the right thing by Jacob, seeing my closest friend again, being a good person, versus making Edward furious with me.

I shoved my keys in the ignition. I twisted them hard to the left, but instead of roaring to life, the engine just clicked. "Gah!" I gasped in shock when I saw that I was not alone in the cab. Edward sat very still, a faint bright spot in the darkness, only his hands moving as he turned a mysterious black object around and around. "I'll put your car back together in time for school, in case you'd like to drive yourself," he assured me after a minute.

"There's something...strange about the way you two are together...The way he watches you--it's so...protective. Like he's about to throw himself in front of a bullet to save you or something...it's just different. He's very intense about you...and very careful. I feel like I don't really understand your relationship...It's not just him...I wish you could see how you move around him...The way you move--you orient yourself around him without even thinking about it. When he moves, even a little bit, you adjust your position at the same time. Like magnets...or gravity. You're like a...satellite, or something. I've never seen anything like it."

"You didn't tell her anything at all, did you? Is that why you took her away? So she wouldn't know that--?"
"Leave now," Edward cut him off mid-sentence, and his face was abruptly frightening--truly frightening. He glared at Jacob with vicious, unveiled loathing.
"You don't think Bella has a right to know?" Jacob challenged. "It's her life."
"Why should she be frightened when she was never in danger?"
"Better frightened than lied to."

"Alice, don't you think this is just a little bit controlling? Just a tiny bit psychotic, maybe?"

"I wish. I'm not at Charlie's," I said sourly. "I'm kind of being held prisoner."

He turned on me, his face still livid, his teeth clenched together. He glared at me for half a second and then, suddenly, he exhaled.

[Jacob's] big dark eyes were full of unashamed pleading. "I'll ask," I said doubtfully. He made a noise in the back of his throat.
"Is he your warden, now, too? You know, I saw this story on the news last week about controlling, abusive teenage relationships..."

But Jasper wasn't worried about frightening me, not over-protective like Edward always was.

"She IS mine." Edward's low voice was suddenly dark, not as composed as before. "I didn't say I would fight fair."


But, even more frightening than all these examples (which there are many, many more) is the images that Meyer chooses to use to describe Edward. After all, everything in literature is supposed to be deliberate.

"Don't go away, then," I responded, unable to hide the longing in my voice.
"That suits me," he replied, his face relaxing into a gentle smile. "Bring on the shackles--I'm your prisoner." But his long hands formed manacles around MY wrists as he spoke.

He drew my trapped hands around his back, holding me to his chest. I tried to pull back, to look in his face, but his hand locked my wrists in an unbreakable hold.

His arms wrapped around me, and he began kissing me in a way that should be illegal. Too persuasive--it was duress, coercion.

He grabbed my wrists and pinned them to my sides.

While I was ranting, he pulled my hands together to restrain them in just one of his, and put his other hand over my mouth. "No." His face was hard.

Cold iron fetters locked around my wrists, and pulled my hands above my head.

His arms formed an iron cage of protection around me.

He curled me into a ball against his chest, holding me more securely than iron chains.


Edward sounds like a prison to me. It scares me that young girls have him on a pedestal, as someone they aspire to have. If my daughter, sister, friend started dating a guy with these attributes, I would tell her to run for her life.