The Tragedy of Being 'Team Jacob' 

There was a time when you couldn’t walk into a mall without seeing Team Edward or Team Jacob plastered across t-shirts and covers of magazines. It was the ultimate pop culture rivalry of the mid to late 2000s. You either wanted the mysterious vampire boyfriend who sparkled like a disco ball in the sun, or the warm, werewolf best friend who barely wore a shirt.

I was Team Jacob. I still am. I felt like if you weigh the pros and cons of Edward VS Jacob, I’d rather take an angry person, than a stalker. Or maybe it was because Jacob felt more…alive? Or possibly because deep down I looked at his temper and thought the most dangerous phrase a girl can think: I can fix him.

Let’s be honest, Jacob Black is a bit of a mess. He’s sweet and funny and builds motorcycles, but he also has some serious anger issues. Like, “might turn into a literal wolf if he gets too emotional” kind of issues. He’s jealous, impulsive, and occasionally just straight up rude. He kisses Bella without her consent and then acts like she was in the wrong for not liking it. That’s not exactly “boyfriend of the year” behavior.

But for some reason, we all thought we could change him. We saw the good in him. He was kind to his dad. He made Bella laugh again after Edward peaced out to Italy. He was protective and loyal. He seemed like the kind of guy who would build you a bonfire and roast marshmallows with you while also threatening to fight your ex boyfriend and his family. There’s a charm in that combination.

Jacob’s biggest problem is that his entire personality revolves around Bella Swan. Every decision he makes is somehow related to her. The guy needs a hobby. Don’t we all?

Jacob’s anger isn’t pure evil. It’s pain. His mom’s gone, his dad’s struggling, and his best friend chooses a 100-year-old vampire over him. I’d be mad too. And honestly, Jacob’s relationships with the rest of his pack don’t exactly help. Sam’s constantly trying to play alpha, Leah hates everyone, and Seth’s just happy to be included.

But here’s where the “I can fix him” delusion kicks in. We see his rage and think, “He just needs love and understanding.” We convince ourselves that if he just had the right person, he’d calm down and stop threatening to murder the Cullen family every ten minutes. We tell ourselves that under all that fur and fury, there’s a good guy who just needs a hug.

And there is a good guy in there. Jacob is one of the only characters in Twilight who feels remotely human. Edward is busy quoting Shakespeare and brooding about morality. Jacob is emotional, passionate, and flawed in a way that makes him relatable. He’s not perfect, and that’s kind of the point.

Jacob represents the messy kind of love. He’s the high school crush who drives you crazy and makes you believe you could be the one to make him better. He’s the poster boy for the kind of boy you grow out of but never fully forget.

And then, just when you think he’s matured and healed, he… imprints on Bella’s newborn baby. WHAT? Talk about a plot twist!

That’s when every “I can fix him” girl collectively said, “Never mind.”

Because there’s no fixing that. There’s no explaining it. He imprinted on a literal baby. It’s not even one of those “technically she grows up fast” excuses. It’s still weird.

It’s the ultimate betrayal for the girls who believed in him. All that time defending his anger, saying “he’s just passionate,” only for him to turn around and go, “Actually, my soulmate is your daughter.” Therapy exists.

But honestly, that’s part of the fun of loving Jacob Black. He’s a cautionary tale wrapped in abs and a bad temper. He reminds us why the “I can fix him” fantasy is just that, a fantasy. Because in real life, you can’t fix people that don’t want to be fixed.

I can't fix him, but apparently, Renesmee can.