Romantic Idealization in Adelaide: When Fairy-Tale Love Becomes Self-Erasure

Introduction: The Fairy-Tale Trap of Romantic Idealization in Adelaide

In Genevieve Wheeler's Adelaide, romantic idealization is not a harmless daydream but a destructive force that erases the self. The novel's central claim is that when a person projects fairy-tale perfection onto a partner, they sacrifice their own identity, boundaries, and emotional well-being in service of a fantasy that can never be fulfilled. Adelaide Williams, the protagonist, repeatedly casts Rory Hughes as a “Disney prince” and her soul mate, even as he demonstrates a consistent inability to offer commitment or emotional security. This idealization drives her to ignore red flags, suppress her own needs, and ultimately spiral into a suicide attempt. Yet the novel does not simply condemn Adelaide's feelings; it treats them as genuine and even understandable, while showing that the only way to survive is to break free from the spell and choose a love that does not require self-erasure. By tracing Adelaide's journey from first infatuation to recovery, Wheeler critiques the cultural scripts that encourage women to lose themselves in romantic love and offers a more grounded alternative.

The Fairy-Tale Frame: How Adelaide Constructs Rory as a Prince

Adelaide's idealization of Rory begins long before their first date. In chapter 4, she recalls seeing him at a boat race during her study-abroad semester and approaching him barefoot to tell him he looks like a Disney prince. This moment, which she retells for years, becomes the origin story of her obsession. The label “Disney prince” is not incidental; it signals that Adelaide is not seeing Rory as a flawed human but as a character from a storybook. She later admits that she had “no idea that this was it” on the Tube to their first date, framing the encounter as a fateful turning point. This pattern of idealization is reinforced by her love of books. In chapter 15, she reads Call Me By Your Name and sobs on the Northern line because she has never known love like that—full, unconditional, romantic. She projects this literary ideal onto Rory, imagining that he is the “alpha and omega” of her life. The novel uses books as a symbol of the romantic narratives that shape Adelaide's expectations, and her inability to distinguish between fiction and reality becomes a central source of her pain.

Adelaide's past also primes her for this idealization. Her first love, Emory Evans, was abusive, as shown in chapter 7. She remembers the sweet moments—the swimming, the whispered promises—while her mind blocks out the pressure and panic attacks. This trauma leaves her hungry for a love that feels safe and perfect, and Rory, with his charm and good looks, seems to offer that. When she meets him again years later, she is ready to believe he is the answer to her longing. The novel suggests that idealization often grows out of a desire to heal past wounds, but it also shows that this strategy is doomed because it places an impossible burden on the other person.

The Cost of Idealization: Self-Erasure and Emotional Exhaustion

As Adelaide's relationship with Rory develops, the cost of her idealization becomes increasingly clear. In chapter 11, she tells her colleague Djibril that Rory is “beautiful and maybe her soul mate and also that she kind of hated him.” She knows he disappears for days, ignores her texts, and fails to make plans, yet she still craves his attention. When Madison warns her with the proverb “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me,” Adelaide acknowledges she is being a fool but says she doesn't care. This is the core of self-erasure: she consciously suppresses her own judgment and needs to preserve the fantasy.

The novel shows how this idealization leads to emotional exhaustion. In chapter 18, after Rory finally calls her his girlfriend, Adelaide lies beside him in a luxury hotel and feels “unnerving” that her emotional security is an afterthought for him. She realizes she is “alone in this place” of love, that he cannot say he loves her, and yet she stays. She even apologizes for expressing her frustration, saying she has no idea where it came from. This pattern—suppressing her own voice to keep the peace—is a direct consequence of idealizing Rory as someone who must be perfect and therefore cannot be challenged.

The climax of this self-erasure is the suicide attempt described in the prologue. Adelaide swallows a large number of Xanax pills and ends up in a Chelsea hospital. When asked what led to the attempt, she replies that it is a long story. The novel implies that the long story is the accumulation of her romantic idealization: the years of ignoring red flags, the emotional labor of maintaining a one-sided love, and the crushing realization that the fairy tale will never come true. The prologue is not a dramatic break from the narrative but the logical endpoint of a pattern in which Adelaide has consistently placed Rory's needs and the fantasy of him above her own survival.

Breaking the Spell: Recovery and a Different Kind of Love

The novel does not leave Adelaide in despair. In the epilogue, years later, she is running in Green Park with her dog Fitz when she sees Rory, who does not notice her and wears a wedding ring. She learns from Brennan that Rory married Ivy, his first girlfriend, and that Brennan withheld the news to protect her. This moment is crucial: Adelaide sees Rory as he is—a man who moved on, who was never the prince she imagined. She reflects on her past love for him but also on her current life with Brennan, who is present, committed, and planning to propose. The narrator reveals that Adelaide will marry Brennan, join a presidential campaign, and hold baby Mia, Eloise's daughter. The epilogue emphasizes that Adelaide is “alive and loved,” a direct contrast to the self-erasure she experienced with Rory.

This recovery is not a simple rejection of romantic love but a redefinition of it. Adelaide's relationship with Brennan is built on mutual care and honesty, not on idealization. Brennan tells her the truth about Rory, even when it is painful, and he supports her without disappearing. The novel suggests that healthy love requires seeing the other person clearly, flaws and all, and that this clarity is what allows Adelaide to finally be herself. The symbol of food also appears in this context: in the epilogue, Adelaide's life is filled with ordinary moments—running, working, being with friends—that ground her in reality rather than fantasy. The daisy, often associated with innocence and simplicity, might be read as a counterpoint to the elaborate fairy-tale imagery that surrounds Rory; Adelaide's eventual happiness is modest and real, not storybook.

Complexity and Contradiction: The Novel's Nuanced Critique

Wheeler does not present romantic idealization as a simple moral failing. The author's note insists that the feelings depicted—love, grief, pain, joy—are genuine and exist beyond the page. This suggests that Adelaide's love for Rory is not fake or foolish; it is real, even if it is misplaced. The novel also shows that Rory is not a villain. He is kind, affectionate, and occasionally thoughtful, as when he gives Adelaide a spa Groupon for her birthday. The problem is not that Rory is evil but that he is emotionally unavailable, and Adelaide's idealization prevents her from seeing this clearly.

The contradiction lies in Adelaide's own awareness. She knows Rory is noncommittal, yet she continues to believe he is her soul mate. She even tells herself that she is “all but sure” he is the one, while also acknowledging that she might not live to see thirty. This tension between knowledge and desire is what makes the novel's critique so powerful: idealization is not ignorance but a willful suspension of disbelief, a choice to prioritize the fantasy over reality. The novel ultimately argues that this choice is unsustainable, and that the only way to survive is to break the spell, even if it means grieving the loss of the dream.

Study Questions and Answers

1. How does Adelaide's first encounter with Rory establish the pattern of romantic idealization?

Adelaide sees Rory at a boat race and immediately labels him a “Disney prince,” a term that reduces him to a fairy-tale archetype. This moment, which she retells for years, frames their relationship as fated and perfect, setting the stage for her to ignore his flaws later.

2. What role do books play in reinforcing Adelaide's idealization of Rory?

Books like Call Me By Your Name and Wetherly May-Lewis's A Modern Empire provide Adelaide with romantic and aspirational narratives. She projects these literary ideals onto Rory, imagining that he can offer the same kind of transformative love she reads about, which blinds her to his actual behavior.

3. How does Adelaide's relationship with Emory Evans contribute to her vulnerability to idealization?

Emory was an abusive first love, and Adelaide's memory selectively preserves the sweet moments while blocking out the trauma. This leaves her with a deep longing for a safe, perfect love, making her more susceptible to casting Rory as a savior figure who can heal her past wounds.

4. In what ways does Adelaide's self-erasure manifest during her relationship with Rory?

She suppresses her own needs for commitment and emotional security, apologizes for expressing frustration, and continues to pursue Rory even when he disappears for days. She also abandons her boundaries, allowing his behavior to dictate her emotional state, which culminates in her suicide attempt.

5. How does the epilogue offer a resolution to the theme of romantic idealization?

The epilogue shows Adelaide years later, having moved on with Brennan, who is honest and present. She sees Rory as he is—married to someone else—and realizes he was never the prince she imagined. Her recovery demonstrates that breaking free from idealization allows for a healthier, more grounded love that does not require self-erasure.