I very much get all of this!!
Horror has always felt like the language my soul speaks when no one else is listening. Horror understands what it means to carry fear in your bones—not as something to be embarrassed about, but as something that shapes you into who you really are. For someone timid, for someone who knows the weight of fear day in and day out, horror offers an unexpected refuge. It’s a space where fear isn’t a failing or something to overcome, but a tool to unlock pieces of myself I’ve hidden away. Fear is the essential ingredient for a whole genre of books. It’s acknowledged, honored, and even celebrated. Horror takes all my restless anxieties—the ones that simmer just beneath the surface—and gives them form. It allows me to face them on my terms, in the safety of a story. Horror is empowering for someone like me. I can step into the fire willingly, feeling the heat, the danger, but knowing that it’s contained. A story can push me to the brink and pull me back. I witness characters enduring horrors far worse than my own struggles and trials.
I think I love it because horror doesn’t flinch. It doesn’t lie or sugarcoat or wrap the world in pretty packaging. It acknowledges the cracks in the veneer. It holds up a mirror to expose the messy, vulnerable parts we’d rather ignore. And in that, I’ve always felt seen. But a love of horror can also be shared.
From Why I Love Horror