We had two friends over today. They’re dear to me specifically because we got to know each other intimately during our eating disorder recovery. We promised we’d one day get together and watch Love Actually, much-beloved by each of us.

I’ve developed a habit of watching this film at least once a year. Despite its soft romcomness, homogenous cast, and general lack of depth it has taught me volumes on relationships. I love it more with each viewing.

In one of the many jubilant reviews garnered by Darren Aronofsky’s latest film The Whale, one writer concluded that we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. This was in reference to the morbidly obese main character who eventually dies, but not before we find out he developed an eating disorder out of grief. Here was a fat man who evidently had feelings despite his exterior. Ironically, I find myself doing just what the writer suggested I don’t: judge the film before I’ve seen it.