This article may contain spoilers, so if you haven’t seen the movie, proceed with caution!

Recently, The Substance hit theaters, and suddenly it felt like everyone around me was buzzing about it. Those who saw it said they felt uncomfortable. Those who hadn’t were waiting for the streaming release, ready to hit pause if things got too intense.

Naturally, I was curious. I’ve been in my movie era for the last six months, so it was obviously at the top of my list. This week, I rushed to the theater, willing to confront my fear of body horror. How bad could it be, right?

The film features Demi Moore as Elisabeth Sparkle, a 50-year-old movie star whose moment has passed. She feels old, rusty, and downright ugly. Life isn’t doing her any favors, either. She’s on the brink of losing her job because the network needs a fresh face (and a hotter body). All this on her birthday? Talk about a rough day.

And then, like a divine gift, a magical solution appears—a phone number and a flash drive with a video about “The Substance.” The opportunity for the creation of a younger duplicate of yourself. This isn’t just about looking better; it’s about having the chance to inhabit a new, revitalized body that can replace your current one. It offers a tantalizing escape from the reality of aging, tempting you with the possibility of reclaiming what feels like it's slipping away.

She fights it, but after a few drinks, she calls. Flash forward, she’s picking up The Substace, and the rest is something you can only imagine.

The quest for eternal youth and beauty isn’t new to cinema—or to real life. It’s a lifelong obsession, a narrative that women have been forced to live by for ages. The pressure to keep up with ever-shifting standards can feel relentless. Same old, same old.

There have been at least a dozen films tackling this topic: the struggle for youth and beauty, the desire to reclaim it, the obsession with perfection, and the longing to be loved.

So if this conversation has been around for so long, WHY ARE WE STILL TALKING ABOUT IT? Because it still hurts. Because we’re constantly searching for something that might help us feel better, or at least help us hold onto ourselves a bit longer than we realistically can.

The Substance establishes two main rules for its users: first, they must switch between their original body and their younger duplicate every seven days; second, they must remember that both versions of themselves are interconnected and share the same consciousness. But what happens if I love one version of myself and hate the other? How do I navigate this love-hate relationship when I have to face the mirror every seven days, adoring one face while resenting the other? Most importantly, how does this differ from my actual reality? What would genuinely change?

Watching The Substance, I couldn’t help but admire how campy it was. But I also found myself wondering: would I fall into the trap? Would I use the substance?

It scared me how quickly I answered. Of course, I would! For crying out loud, I straightened my hair for almost eight years just to feel better about myself. I’d adore The Substance. I’d love to love myself, to put out the best version of me. And I’d crave a break—seven days free from self-hatred and mean comments, seven days where I’m the best version of myself.

But deep down, I know I’d break the first rule. I’d forget that there’s no “her” and “me,” only one of us. I’d hate me and love her. And then, I’d end up resenting her for stealing that love away from me. Who does she think she is?

I can’t numb my insecurities with some magical potion. The only way out is through. I owe it to myself to confront these feelings head-on. Social media only amplifies the obsession with perfection, constantly reminding us of what we should be striving for. Good cinema, like The Substance, is the kind that haunts you in the middle of the night, forcing you to confront your deepest fears and insecurities.

And through it all, the only thing I truly owe myself is freedom. Freedom from this relentless pursuit of perfection, freedom to embrace my insecurities, and the freedom to simply be. So while I might be tempted by the allure of The Substance, I know that I must keep fighting for my authenticity instead.