Nothing beats a good romantic comedy on a rainy autumn evening. I repeat, nothing beats a good romantic comedy to feel and to heal.

Although I do enjoy the artsy movies, although I love to watch deep, meaningful stories, although I adore to analyze a scene or appreciate the fine eye of the director, a girl’s gotta watch her romantic comedies.

Thus was the case when I saw Love & Other Drugs. I was in need of a good, optimistic, goofy and heart warming love story. Liking both leading actors and being intrigued by the title, I thought this could might just be the movie that would pick me up from my teenage-one week-love related-misery. Said and done: make me laugh, make me trust love again, make me hopeful, make me happy! Only now do I realize the pressure that I used to put on movies to cheer me up.

I feel that the best part of a romantic comedy lies in the jokes and in the glimpse of meaningfulness that manages to make its way up to the surface. You know that they are going to end up together, so the beauty resides in the extra part of the story: some funny lines, some situational comedy, a cute pet, a goofy best friend or the vulnerable part of the character that manages to remind you of your own fears, weaknesses and desires.

The movie begins quite as you would expect. Don Juan boy meets no-bullshit girl. Don Juan boy tries to impress no-bullshit girl, playing his A game just to score. Surprisingly to him, she’s not impressed, but she’s fine with being scored. Why? Because she has early-onset Parkinson’s disease and her motto can be summed up to YOLO. And let’s face it, he’s Jake Gyllenhaal, so he’s kinda hot.

This is where the movie could become and indeed becomes predictable. The Don Juan is tamed by the young girl with a neurodegenerative disease. Yes, he is. The Don Juan realizes that life is more than one night stands. Yes, he does. The Don Juan becomes the faithful, caring boyfriend that takes care of all her needs. Yes, he becomes.

Then comes the good part. She is tamed too. I was seventeen or eighteen when I first saw the movie and only after three years would I truly understand why I liked Anne Hathaway’s character so much and why she seemed so relatable. While his armor was the sleeping around, her armor was pretending not to care and acting like everything was fine. Sounds familiar?

At about half the movie we begin to see her true face and feel her true emotions. Only then we get to feel how angry she is at her body for betraying her and how mad she is at the world for the symptoms she has to feel. Only then do we see that the nonchalant approach to life is just a coping mechanism that tries to cover up the fear that she feels about her future. Only then do we realize that she doesn’t want to be in a relationship with someone not because of her YOLO motto, but because she doesn’t want to be a burden. She has an unpredictable disease, common in old age and she doesn’t feel she deserves to be loved or even to dream of a long term relationship with someone. That’s the privilege of healthy people.

I understood her so well. Even though I was healthy, I felt the same things. The anger, the fear, the hopelessness, the idea that I’m not worthy of long term commitment were not new to me. They were just buried very deep inside. At seventeen they felt familiar, but I couldn’t say where they came from. After a few years, it all made sense.

Movies are more than a cinematic experience. They can be your best therapist. They can show you, from a distance and in a safe environment what your greatest fears are. And they can also show you part of the solution. In Maggie Murdock’s case, it was vulnerability. And I think it applies to all of us. Talking about our fears makes them less scary. Talking about your anger makes it lose its control over your actions. Talking about your hatred makes it less powerful. Taking your armor off and being vulnerable helps you be more you. Being more you helps you love yourself more. Then you can love others and let them love you.

So, the next time you watch a romantic comedy, my advice is to read between the lines and see more than the surface of the characters. Maybe you’ll discover something about yourself that’s been holding you back. Maybe you’ll discover your armor and put it down from time to time. Maybe you’ll meet your true self.