“Good Will Hunting” is one of my all-time favourite movies.
I rewatch it every few years, and I still cry at the famous, “It’s not your fault” scene. Especially now, watching the film again after Robin William’s death, much of his character’s wisdom hits home in a more profound, heartbreaking way.
Robin William’s birthday is on July 21st. He would have been 69.
The other day, I was hanging out with some male friends and one made a comment that always makes me shake my head and laugh, “Girls don’t poop!” For some reason, men at our age still want to believe that women are these perfect creatures who don’t fart, poop, yell, cry, or sometimes eat pizza off the floor at 2 a.m. in the morning.
But it reminded me of one of my favourite scenes in “Good Will Hunting” where Robin Williams talks about his deceased wife farting in her sleep, and how one night it was so loud, it woke the dog up.
Apparently, the scene was also improvised and he had the whole set laughing hysterically. Ah, we miss you, Robin Williams.
What this scene tells me about love and relationships:
1. We fall in love with the little idiosyncrasies. The small stuff that we only let our partner see in those intimate moments.
2. We don’t have to be perfect; we just have to find someone who is perfect for us.
3. Intimacy is about choosing someone and allowing them to see us at our most vulnerable.
4. Sometimes, we just have to go for it. And that means taking a risk and opening ourselves up to hurt.
5. When we idolize the other person, we prevent ourselves from really falling in love with them, and from letting ourselves be truly seen.
At the start of a relationship, we are attracted to someone most often for superficial things—we like the same activities, we both laugh at the same jokes, we like how tall they are, or yes, maybe how big her butt is.
But true, intimate love? It surpasses the external. It’s built on little moments in-between the big stuff. Watching her sleep in the morning. Admiring the way he cooks and takes a sip of beer. Or getting woken up by her fart and lovingly telling her it was you, but cherishing in your head that moment forever.
When I go, I hope people remember me for the moments I was the most imperfect and vulnerable—the moments I now realize I was most myself.