When I was 12 I got into horror in a big way. I read everything I could get my hands on, starting softly with Goosebumps by RL Stine and progressing to Stephen King a few years later. It never bothered me. I was able to remind myself it wasn’t real and never really got too frightened.
When I was pregnant things began to change. I was previously fairly desensitized to violence. I didn’t particularly enjoy the gruesome special effects but I could stomach them. I have sat through heads being cleaved in half and people been eaten alive with nary a wince. Then, when pregnant I began having to hide behind my hands.
I could no longer sit through anything which involved child abuse or rape and frequently had to ask the Mummy to choose something cheerier.
This week I was particularly distressed by both an episode of Orange is the New Black and Game of Thrones which both contained scenes of violence towards women. I didn’t really think too much about my reaction at the time but it bothered me much more than it would have pre-baby.
Last night the Mommy and I decided to watch Insidious. I used to love watching scary movies in the dark, often laughing as I jumped and really getting a kick out of the fear. Not last night. Last night I almost hit the roof at every jumpy part. The Mummy had to stop holding my hand because I was painfully squeezing the life out of her fingers. More than once she thought about turning it off and more than once I almost let her.
What’s wrong with me? My brother would be appalled. I feel like motherhood flicked some ‘damsel in distress’ gene on in me. Where has my kickbutt, Brianne of Tarth-ness gone? Did anyone else change after having a baby?
We’re watching Insidious 2 tonight because apparently I am a masochist. But please, if things start moving around in my house of their own accord can I come and live with you???
