I was completely infatuated with the Monster High franchise growing up. Bed sheets, pajamas, shoes—whatever it was, I probably had it. My parents never quite understood the whys or hows, and neither did I until I reached young adulthood and still found myself rewatching the movies for comfort.

I think part of me has always been drawn to the idea of something different, such as monsters themselves. There was something surprisingly comforting about characters that were so incredibly different from each other. Whether they had fangs, stitches, or scales, they still were able to exist wholly as themselves without those differences diminishing their existence. They had friends, lovers, and full lives. They could exist without having to conform to someone else’s expectations. Looking back now, I realize my attachment to Monster High was more than just the fashion and interesting stories. I saw something in these characters I desperately wanted for myself: to accept and embrace every bit of myself, monster and all.