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The psychology of “good for her” horror

By Flora Irvine-Hall

Florence Pugh, as Dani in Midsommar, a classic 'good for her' film. Image via Screenrant
Florence Pugh, as Dani in Midsommar, a classic 'good for her' film. Image via Screenrant

We support women’s rights and women’s wrongs…but why?


One of the most beloved genres in horror is the good for her trope.


The trope, which was made famous by the very well-known meme from a scene in Arrested Development, is officially defined as:


“A popular, often ironic, film and literary trope describing stories where female protagonists reclaim agency, usually through morally ambiguous, violent, or chaotic actions against an oppressive system. It highlights ‘female rage’ and cathartic, justified revenge, frequently applied to characters breaking societal norms to achieve independence.”


But why is there so much love for the trope?


Well, it turns out it might be more psychological than you think.


In a 2025 Sick Sad Lit article, Jes Eastwood states:

 

“At its core, the ‘good for her’ genre is often about righting wrongs. Protagonists take justice into their own hands when societal or legal systems fail them (…) These acts of vengeance are both personal and symbolic, challenging larger societal injustices.”


Indeed, in a world where justice is rarely ever served, the good for her genre is a form of escapism.

The good for her trope’s popularity is also largely due to the fact that it puts women in positions of power, which historically, isn’t something they’ve had. Although the film certainly has its problematic elements, seeing Jennifer Hills take revenge on her rapists in 1978's I Spit on Your Grave, is nothing less than euphoric.

Camille Keaton as Jennifer Hills in 1978's I Spit on Your Grave, image via MoMA
Camille Keaton as Jennifer Hills in 1978's I Spit on Your Grave, image via MoMA

In her dissertation titled ‘Good for Her: Catharsis and Empowerment in Contemporary Literature,’ Jessica Vought explains that the trope “contains themes of transgression beyond traditional expectations of socially acceptable feminine behaviour by situating revenge arcs to celebrate actions that otherwise would have been perceived as reprehensible”.


She also discusses the political aspect of the trope, stating:


“The emergence and popularity of the genre in the post-2016 sociopolitical climate in the United States reflects the demand for marginalized communities to see versions of themselves represented in texts in which the protagonist avenges herself in the face of patriarchal oppression.”


The trope is also relatable. The human mind is terrifying. No one, apart from us, really knows all the dark thoughts that go through our heads. Thoughts of vengeance, making people pay and taking justice into our own hands.


An example of this is Stephen King’s Carrie. Those who have been bullied understand Carrie’s rage. We all wanted to take the power back from our bullies, and for once, to make them feel afraid. So Carrie burning down her school and killing all her malicious classmates as they scream in terror after spending most of the film being unbearably smug, is deeply satisfying. It gives us the thrill of revenge, without having to get our hands dirty.

Sissy Spacek as Carrie White, in the 1976 film adaptation of the novel, image via MoMA
Sissy Spacek as Carrie White, in the 1976 film adaptation of the novel, image via MoMA

The good for her trope also makes us question our own morals. A lot of the media and literature in this genre doesn’t follow the classic narrative of good triumphing over evil. In fact, sometimes, evil wins.

2022’s Pearl is a key example. Pearl is by no means the hero of the story. While she’s certainly a victim in some areas, like the abuse she faces from her mother, she’s also very much a villain. None of the things that Pearl does in the film are justified. But they are understandable.


Neither Misty nor the projectionist deserved to die. But there’s something disturbingly relatable about Pearl’s breakdown. All her life she’s been ignored, dismissed, and never been taken seriously. During her dance audition, when she’s told they’re looking for someone younger and blonde, it triggers the feeling of rejection, which is something that a lot of us relate to. Being constantly rejected and second best is incredibly damaging to your self-esteem. Pearl’s failed audition reinforces what she’s believed all her life all her life — that she’s not good enough.


Pearl, while disturbing and terrifying, is a character that a lot of viewers can see themselves in. Lots of us have felt unattractive, odd, and like we’ll never amount to anything great. So seeing Pearl essentially ‘win’ in the end, while bone-chilling, is also rather satisfying.

Mia Goth at titular character Pearl, image via MUBI
Mia Goth at titular character Pearl, image via MUBI

Another factor that adds to the popularity of the good for her trope is the moral ambiguity. This means that on paper, the punishment doesn’t always fit the crime. The most obvious example of this is Christian from 2019’s Midsommar.

Christian is trash. He’s emotionally stunted, cowardly, and the king of gaslighting. The way he treats Dani throughout the film is incredibly uncomfortable to watch and something that a lot of viewers will be able to relate to. In my YouTube video, Sh*tty Boyfriends in Horror, I discussed that while characters like Christian can be frustrating and triggering, it’s also cathartic to know that other people have dealt with people like him.


Most of the time, the Christians of the world get to walk free without a care in the world, while the Danis of the world are left grief-stricken and traumatized. But Midsommar creates a fantasy where the Christians of the world are punished.


But Christian, while awful, didn'’t deserve what happens to him. Being a terrible boyfriend means you should have a Taylor Swift song written about you, not that you should be burned alive in a bear suit.


What’s disturbing, is while the viewer can understand this logically, there’s still something bone-chillingly satisfying about the ending. Dani, while having been completely brainwashed, still sort of wins. She spent most of the film being treated like dirt and like an inconvenience, so seeing her ‘happy’ while Christian and his awful friends perish, is, to be bluntly honest, rather enjoyable.

Jack Reynor, as gaslighter and sh*tty boyfriend Christian, in Midsommar, image via Collider
Jack Reynor, as gaslighter and sh*tty boyfriend Christian, in Midsommar, image via Collider

The good for her trope scratches the itch in our brains that crave justice and vengeance.


Whether we want to admit it or not, we all have a dark side which longs to make those who intentionally hurt us pay. The good for her trope satisfies that thirst, without any of the legal or moral repercussions.

 

 

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