A film about mirrors, men & female manipulation
You think you know women?
You don’t.
You fall for the ones who look like your mother, or your first crush, or some half-forgotten wet dream.
You don’t see women.
You see whatever you need women to be.
A muse, a healer, a slut, a saint.
You chase after them like they’re the answer to the hole in your chest, but you never stop to ask why you’re empty in the first place.
You want softness, you want mystery, you want someone to make you feel alive.
But what you really want is the part of yourself you lost or buried—your own damn soul, wrapped in a dress, walking toward you in heels.
You call it love. But it’s not. It’s a con.
You’re not in love with this woman
You’re in love with the story you tell yourself about the two of you.
And when the story doesn’t fit, when they turn out to be real people with their own scars and shit, you get pissed.
You say that she changed.
But she didn’t.
You just ran out of illusions.
So, don’t blame women for your own projections.
Don’t make them carry your wounds, your fantasies, your need for rescue.
They’re not here to fix you.
They’re not here to be your redemption.
They’re here – same as you – flawed, horny, and trying to make sense of this mess.
You want to know the truth?
Most of what you call love is just your own shit, splashed onto someone else’s face.
You see strength, you see danger, you see salvation—but that’s all in your head.
You’re not falling for a woman.
You’re falling for the parts of yourself you don’t want to look at.
And yes, women do the same thing.
They project their own shit onto you.
They want a hero, a protector, someone to make them feel safe.
But when they turn out to be human—when they’re weak, or scared, or just plain lost—you get mad.
You wanted a fairy tale. But you got a woman.
So here’s my advice to men.
Wake up. Stop chasing ghosts. Stop making women into symbols.
They’re not your fantasy. They’re not your enemy. They’re just people. Same as you.
Until this is understood, you’ll just keep spinning in the same sad loop: attraction, projection, disappointment, blame.
And that’s not love.
That’s just you, running from yourself, using women as your excuse.
Adapted from ‘The Brutal Truth About Women’ by Carl Jung. It was rewritten as a response from the other side of the bed, by a woman who’s seen too much – and who has had too many nights with the wrong kind of man.