On the surface, I should really relate to Beauty and the Beast – it’s about a plucky brunette who likes to read, and the moral is ostensibly that true love transcends physical appearance (super nice to hear for a chubby 13 -year old with acne and high waisted shorts worn before they were cool.)
But upon reviewing the facts, I’ve discovered Beauty and the Beast is worse for my self-esteem than Facebook pictures of people I know getting engaged are. (HOW IS THEIR HAIR SO SHINY?)
To recap: the Beast has to find true love by his 21st birthday or else he and his entire castle is doomed by the enchantress. He is in an isolated castle in which eligible bachelorettes happening by is a rare and lucky occurrence. And he looks like this: 
Good news! He finds someone to love him and he turns back into a handsome prince and they all live happily ever after, etc etc which is all well and good except some of us are 21 (about to turn 22) and the closest we’ve had to true love is a guy reminding me not to leave my scarf at his place.
For comparison, I am not a hideous wolf monster. I do not have horns, fangs, and usually I am able to prevent hair from growing all over my body. I go to a co-ed university with a large concentration of intelligent men aged 18-23 and I don’t kidnap people’s dads. Personality wise, the Beast was a NIGHTMARE! Even before he turned into a monster he was a little asshole – that’s how he got turned into a beast in the first place. And I mentioned the kidnapping dads part.
As if I didn’t feel bad enough for being single, here comes Disney saying even a be-fanged hellbeast with Guy Fieri’s table manners could find true love by 21.
I’ll be at the bar.
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