There's a moment in Disney's Beauty and the Beast that always makes me catch my breath. It's not the ballroom dance or even the transformation scene. It's earlier, quieter - when the Beast, nervous and awkward, throws open the doors to his library and watches Belle's face light up with wonder.
"It's wonderful!" she breathes, spinning among the floor-to-ceiling shelves.
"It's yours," he says simply.
In that moment, the Beast doesn't offer Belle jewels or gowns or empty flattery. He offers her what matters most to her - a room full of stories, ideas, and imagination. He sees who she really is. And in seeing her, he reveals himself. Two bookish souls, finding each other among the pages.
This is where their real love story begins, not with physical attraction or instant chemistry, but with shared passions and the slow recognition of kindred spirits. I had a moment like that soon after meeting my husband. I was dating the training manager at Farrell's Ice Cream Parlour, and Keith was engaged. We decided to go to the beach one day after work, and he noticed my old beach towel. I joked about it - I come from a family that gets every last drop out of a bottle of catsup. The next day, there was a new beach towel on the driver's seat of my car. This was during the days when you didn't have to lock your car, of course.
Beauty and the Beast has endured across centuries and countless versions because its core truth remains relevant: real love requires looking beyond the surface to see someone's true character. Belle doesn't fall for the Beast's appearance - she falls for his kindness, his growth, his vulnerability, and yes, his library. She sees the person beneath the curse. The beast would have given her a new beach towel.
In our current world, where we swipe left or right based on a photo, where first impressions are formed in seconds from social media profiles, and where we're constantly judged by superficial metrics, this message feels more important than ever. We live in a society obsessed with surface-level perfection, yet starving for genuine connection. The Beast's story reminds us that transformation happens through patience, understanding, and truly seeing one another - not despite our flaws, but through accepting our whole, complex selves.
I kid my husband, Keith, that we're Beauty and the Beast - though I should clarify, he's actually quite handsome, and I've been known more for brains than beauty. But he can turn into a bit of a beast when he's hungry (hangry is real, folks) or when he encounters difficult people. More importantly, like the Beast with Belle, he's fiercely protective of those he loves. He guards our granddaughter and me like he's sitting on that proverbial fence, watching for any threat, ready to defend. As he says, "You want me on that fence!"
And like Belle and her Beast, I didn't fall in love with Keith immediately. Our story is more like Ashley and Melanie in Gone with the Wind - though that comparison might raise some eyebrows - they were cousins! Stay with me here. In Margaret Mitchell's novel, Ashley reflects on how he and Melanie are suited to each other because they share the same background, values, and understanding of the world. They speak the same language, he says - much to Scarlett's fury, as she could never understand that compatibility built on shared foundations could be deeper than passionate physical attraction. She's beautiful and surrounded by suitors. Why couldn't she have Ashley, too? She didn't discover until after Melanie died that he wasn't right for her. Melanie was Ashley's one true love.
Keith and I discovered we were cut from the same cloth, like Ashley and Melanie. Our backgrounds were similar. Our fathers were born in Colorado, a few hundred miles apart. We both had devout Catholic mothers and fathers who converted to the religion - an unusual parallel that shaped both our childhoods in similar ways. We both love to read, losing ourselves in stories the way Belle treasured every book in that library. We both love movies, sharing that joy of storytelling in another form. We even both played hockey - he played ice hockey, I played field hockey. These weren't superficial similarities. They were the threads of shared experience and values that wove us together. We're the same age, know the same songs, and can speak in "movie speak" as we call it. We constantly use lines from movies, books, and songs to communicate. We're passionate about the Olympics and Oscars.
But our love wasn't love at first sight. It was the slow building of trust and understanding. It was finding someone who spoke my language. We met in February, started dating in July, got engaged in August and married the following February.
Like the Beast offering Belle his library, Keith and I have built our own collection of shared passions after fifty years of marriage. DVDs fill our shelves. We have close to 2,000 books in our Kindle Library that we own and subscribe to Kindle Unlimited. We understand each other's protective instincts, our quirks, our hunger-induced mood swings. We've learned to see past the "beastly" moments to the person underneath - and to let ourselves be fully seen in return.
That's the real magic of Beauty and the Beast. It's not about the spell breaking or the prince returning to his handsome form. It's about two people learning to be vulnerable enough to show their true selves and brave enough to love what they find. It is about loving the person who makes you feel comfortable.
And speaking of Disney love stories we cherish - I'm starting a new YouTube series about "What's Next?" I'll use my storytelling skills to write the next chapter in some of Disney Studios' masterpieces. If you been wanting to learn screenwriting from a different angle - or learn about AI and animation, visit https://www.youtube.com/@sandijerome and please subscribe! I'm not trying to make money on YouTube; I'm trying to promote my books and screenwriting career.
What's your favorite moment in Beauty and the Beast? Have you found your own love story in an unexpected place? Share in the comments below.





