(or: how a three-hour historical romance disaster movie emotionally imprinted on me at age nine and never let go. Yes, I see what I did there.)

I just rewatched Titanic a few hours ago, which means I am currently emotionally compromised, spiritually damp, and operating on vibes alone. This is not a review. This is a confession.

Because Titanic is not just a movie to me.
It is a core memory.
A personality trait.
A formative experience that rearranged my brain furniture at age nine and never put it back.

Let’s talk about it.

The First Time I Saw It (aka: The Origin Story)

I was nine years old.

I had just read the Dear America book about the Titanic, which means I already showed up emotionally pre-loaded and historically annoying. I knew the ship sank. I knew people died. I knew it was tragic. I was ready.

My family, however, thought I would get bored.

It was a family gathering. Probably Thanksgiving 1999. The kind where adults talk for twelve hours straight and kids are expected to quietly dissolve into the furniture. Someone put Titanic on, fully assuming I’d wander off halfway through.

Reader.

I did not move.

I sat on the floor. Silent. Locked in. Absolutely seated for the entire three-hour emotional marathon.

And yes, when Rose’s boobs appeared, my mom immediately slapped her hand over my eyes like a jump scare reaction.

Which is still objectively hilarious because:

• Boobs? Forbidden.
• A man bouncing off a propeller and cartwheeling into the ocean? Totally fine.
• Death on a massive scale, class warfare, and existential dread? Approved family viewing.

The 90s were wild.

Anyway, I forevermore became a Titanic girl.

Also, people should NOT do that drinking game with me where they drink every time I recite a line. You will all die from alcohol poisoning before the boat even sinks.

Titanic Is My Favorite Movie and No, I Will Not Argue

Why??

Because it gives everything.

• Romance
• History
• A disaster film
• Class commentary
• A coming-of-age arc
• A feminist awakening
• Action sequences
• A tragic finale
• A literal metaphysical epilogue

It’s all genres at once, like James Cameron was like “Why choose?” and the Academy went “…okay, fine.”

The Historical Setting Still Hits Like an Iceberg

Titanic works because it’s rooted in something very real and very devastating. The opulence. The rigid class divide. The “unsinkable” arrogance. The quiet, eerie buildup to disaster.

The entire first half is a romance novel set inside a museum exhibit, and then the second half is a catastrophe unfolding in real time. It’s like the movie gently places you on a feather pillow and then yeets you off a cliff.

The accuracy is wild, too – down to the plates, the furniture, the corridors, the menu.

Why the Romance Works (Yes, It’s Insta-Love. Yes, I Will Die on This Hill)

Insta-love usually annoys me. Like sir, you just saw this woman once, please simmer down.

But Titanic? Titanic earns it. It’s GOOD insta-love where you’re like:

“Oh no, they’re talking…Oh no, they’re bantering…OH NO THEY’RE DEVELOPING EMOTIONAL INTIMACY…we’re doomed.”

How?

a.) They build a friendship first.
They talk. They tease. They share dreams and fears and trauma. It’s emotional intimacy at light speed.

b.) The chemistry is criminal.
Seriously. They stare at each other with the kind of chemistry that could power the entire East Coast.

c.) The stakes are absurdly high.
They fall in love during a literal countdown to tragedy. Every second matters. Their time is short, so their love is loud.

d.) Jack + Rose = archetype perfection
Poor boy with a free soul.
Rich girl suffocating in a gilded cage.
Forbidden love.
A life-changing kiss on the bow of a doomed ship.

It’s not subtle. It’s not ashamed. It’s just…iconic.

Leonardo DiCaprio as Jack: The Hold This Man Had On Society

When Titanic dropped, Leo had everyone – EVERYONE – losing their minds. Moms? Gone. Teens? Feral. Grandmas? Blushing. Critics? Annoyed at how charming he was. Nine-year-old me? Suddenly aware that boys were, in fact, cute.

Jack Dawson walked onto that deck with his suspenders and sketchbook like, “I have nothing to offer except emotional stability, adventure vibes, and the ability to make you feel seen,” and Rose said, “Yup, that’ll do.”

His performance is so warm and earnest it’s almost disarming. He wasn’t a macho action star. He wasn’t brooding. He was gentle. Funny. Soft. Steady. Hopeful. Free.

And that smile????? Ugh. Humanity wasn’t ready.

Kate Winslet as Rose: A Character Study I Could Write a Dissertation On

Rose DeWitt Bukater is one of the best female characters in modern cinema.

Her arc is not “fall in love with boy.”
Her arc is:
Break free. Reclaim yourself. Choose life.

She starts off suffocating under societal expectations, familial pressure, and the weight of a marriage she’s being forced into. She’s suicidal. She’s trapped. She’s doing everything except actually breathing.

Jack doesn’t save her.
Jack shows her what saving herself might look like.

By the end, Rose:

• Fights for her life
• Fights for the life she wants
• Rejects the cowardice of the elite
• Rejects her abuser
• Rejects a future that isn’t hers
• Defines her identity on her terms
• Live a huge, full, self-determined life

She becomes someone she would never have been allowed to be in first class.

Rose is feminist cinema, quietly wrapped inside a romance.

The Themes: Titanic Isn’t Just a Story – It’s a Mirror

This movie has layers. Onion energy. Let me peel.

Freedom vs. Constraint

Rose’s life is a cage decorated with diamonds. Jack’s life is poverty but he has the freedom to go where he wants. Their meeting is the spark that rearranges the both of them.

Class Divides

Third-class passengers locked behind gates.
First-class men buying their way onto lifeboats.
People dying because they weren’t wealthy enough to matter.

Tell me that isn’t still relevant.

Mortality + Meaning

The sinking is a meditation on what matters when time runs out. Who you love. What you choose. Who you are when the world is ending around you? Some people chose to save others. Some chose to be self-serving.

Is The Ending The Ending?

Is the ending literal? Spiritual? Symbolic? Does Old Rose die? Dream? Release her grief?

James Cameron leaves it open on purpose, which makes the ending land with a kind of mystical tenderness.

The Sinking: Still the Most Stressful Hours of My Life

Every watch feels like a cardio workout.

It’s cold. It’s claustrophobic. It’s terrifying because it’s not a villain’s plan. It’s not an alien invasion. It’s not a meteor. It’s human arrogance meeting natural indifference.

The ship groans? My soul leaves my body.

That moment the band keeps playing? Instant tears. Every time.

The mother tucking her kids into bed because she knows what’s coming and they don’t? Hits different as an adult.

It’s cinematic dread executed perfectly.

Why I Keep Coming Back to Titanic

Because every watch feels like the first.
Because it’s comfort and sheer devastation braided together.
Because it’s a story about choosing love and choosing life even though everything else feels doomed.
Because it reminds me of 9-year-old me – wide-eyed, curious, quietly absorbing everything, falling in love with stories.
Because it shaped me as a writer, a historian girlie, a hopeless romantic, a human.

Titanic isn’t just my favorite movie.
It’s one of the reasons I love storytelling at all.

So here’s to Titanic:
The film.
The legend.
The cultural chokehold.
The reason I will forever side-eye rich men in tuxedos.

(And here’s to Kate and Leo’s friendship. Love the fact that they’re still best friends to this day. Just goes to show that there is such a thing as a platonic soulmate!)

Until next time, may your heart go on, your doors be wide enough for two, and your emotions remain only slightly waterlogged.

See you next time, besties!