The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of The University of Scranton.
The theatrical release of the movie Regretting You in recent weeks has once again brought Colleen Hoover, a prolific and frequently published author, and writer of the book on which the movie is based, back into the spotlight. Originally catapulted to fame via BookTok, with her publications such as Slammed (2012), Ugly Love (2014), and Verity(2018) becoming popular during the pandemic. Of course, with her most popular book, It Ends With Us(2020), being the first of her works to be adapted into a movie last year, Hoover’s popularity soared even higher..The book and the movie (which became the subject of a controversial court case I won’t discuss here) proved to be quite popular, with the novel famously outselling the Bible in 2022 (Brown) and the movie grossing approximately $349.72 million worldwide against an estimated $25 million budget. By all accounts, one would believe that It Ends With Us should be highly recommended given its popularity and monetary success.
However, as an English major who values both literature and film, I cannot in good faith recommend any of this author’s works based on their literary merit. More importantly, as someone who studies law and has worked at Legal Aid assisting victims of domestic violence, and frankly as a woman, there is no world in which I could ever endorse “It Ends With Us,” whether the book or its film adaptation. I sincerely hope that readers and viewers choose not to engage with Hoover’s other works, out of principle and respect for those affected by the issues she depicts.
Why? Well the answer boils down to the way Hoover’s work, most prominently seen in the book and movie of “It Ends With Us” depicts domestic violence and how both iterations of “It Ends With US,” through the story, as well marketing behind the scenes is arguing not the “end” but the start of something; a glorification of abusive and toxic relationships.
At the pinnacle of Hoover’s popularity, in 2021, I brought “It Ends With Us” on vacation. The book was a gift from a friend and I was shocked when what I thought was a cute romance turned out to be a book about domestic violence, which to be honest did not handle the subject matter well, seemingly glorifying the abusive relationship at the core of the book. I was in shock. I called the friend, a frequent Hoover reader, and she seemed surprised that I didn’t absolutely love the book. I thought maybe it was a personal issue. However, as I talked to my female friends I realized that more than a few of them also had a negative reaction to the book.
It wasn’t because of the smut, I don’t care if a book contains smut, but I do think that a smut-romance book only marketed as such a book can not properly warn an audience that it contains topics of domestic violence, and as a result trivializes the serious social issue it supposedly addresses. More importantly, I don’t think this smut book handles its depiction of domestic violence well at all. I mean, with a tag saying “Sometimes the one you love hurts you the most,” in a pretty pink font like it’s just so flirty and fun, is not helpful. Domestic abuse is not flirty and fun. It is not some type of cliche that belongs irreverently hanging on a tag line. It is a serious, systemic problem in society, one we can not allow to be normalized. However, statements like the tagline seem only to reinforce the harmful idea that intimate partner violence is normal. We can not allow abuse to be normalized, but a statement like that seems only to reinforce the harmful idea that abuse is okay in relationships.
According to the Center for Disease Control, one woman is killed every day in the United States by a male partner, and according to Hotline.com, the website of The Domest Violence Hotline, “An average of 24 people per minute are victims of rape, physical violence or stalking by an intimate partner in the United States — more than 12 million women and men over the course of a single year. 1 in 4 women (24.3%) and 1 in 7 men (13.8%) aged 18 and older in the US have been the victim of severe physical violence by an intimate partner in their lifetime [and] intimate partner violence alone affects more than 12 million people every year. As someone who has worked with victims of domestic violence seeking a Protection From Abuse Order, I can say from experience that many of them discussed how they felt the abuse was “deserved” or “normal.”
Lily Bloom, the primary protagonist in Hoover’s book is tragically one of these twelve million people affected, something one wouldn’t know by reading the synopsis. According to the book’s jacket, “Lily hasn’t always had it easy, but that’s never stopped her from working hard for the life she wants. She’s come a long way from the small town where she grew up—she graduated from college, moved to Boston, and started her own business. And when she feels a spark with a gorgeous neurosurgeon named Ryle Kincaid, everything in Lily’s life seems too good to be true. Ryle is assertive, stubborn, maybe even a little arrogant. He’s also sensitive, brilliant, and has a total soft spot for Lily. And the way he looks in scrubs certainly doesn’t hurt. Lily can’t get him out of her head. But Ryle’s complete aversion to relationships is disturbing. Even as Lily finds herself becoming the exception to his “no dating” rule, she can’t help but wonder what made him that way in the first place. As questions about her new relationship overwhelm her, so do thoughts of Atlas Corrigan-her first love and a link to the past she left behind. He was her kindred spirit, her protector. When Atlas suddenly reappears, everything Lily has built with Ryle is threatened” (Amazon).
What this, almost Hallmark-like, summary misses is that Ryle abuses Lily, in such a way that it seems as though Lily is delusional and imagining the abuse in its first two instances, a common narrative used to deny that women are trapped in abusive relationships. It isn’t until Kyle tries to rape her and knocks her out by shoving her down that she realizes that maybe, maybe him slapping her or shoving her down the stairs was abuse, and not “accidents.”
Atlas, Lily’s white knight-boyfriend isn’t much better. Concerningly, he waited until she turned fifteen to sleep with her when he was eighteen. In Maine, where Lily grew up, the age of consent is 16 years old, meaning that those sixteen and older have the age of consent to engage in sexual activity. Lily is fifteen, so this doesn’t count for her. However, there is a close-in-age exemption to consent laws in Maine and several other states called “Romeo and Juliet” laws. This means in Maine, if one person is under 16 but at least 14, and the other person is less than 5 years older, it is legal for them to engage in consensual sexual activity. This exemption is designed to prevent criminal charges in cases where the age difference between two minors or a minor and someone close in age is relatively small, a law I feel deserves its own article about why this is incredibly problematic. It does mean that Atlas sleeping with Lily when she was fifteen is technically not a crime, but it doesn’t sit very well with the reader. Consider that in many states like New York, whose lawmakers have retained a semblance of sanity, this “Romeo and Juliet” law doesn’t exist. Rather, the protections are built into the statutory rape laws through age thresholds and mitigated punishments, and what Atlas did could be considered a misdemeanor or statutory rape, which is a felony. As such, there doesn’t seem to be a single relationship in the book worth saving.
However, irrespective of the many many issues with Atlas, the main problem within the book however, goes back to Ryle. Spoiler alert, despite Ryle also begins to abuse Lily physically, sexually, and emotionally progressively throughout the novel, and gaslighting her into believing it is okay to a background of vastly abusive smut, Lily decides to allow her abuser to spend time with the child she gives birth to after she leaves him. At the end of the novel, which takes place a year later and which Hoover clearly intends to be a redemption scene, we see Lily and Ryle, amicably divorced and co-parenting their daughter. In that scene, Ryle, who is a violent sex offender, is picking up the baby for “his days with her.” Lily can’t be given a pass for not understanding the danger of this situation. She even asks, “What kind of mother would I be if a small part of me doesn’t have concern in regard to your temper?” Ultimately, she reasons that “despite what has happened between us in the past, he’s still this baby’s father. He has the legal right to be a father, no matter how I feel about it.” Lily ultimately decides that “parents have to work through their differences” and bring a level of maturity into a situation in order to do what’s best for their child.” But Ryle is not a guy who simply “has differences” with his child’s mother—a disagreement about allotted screen time or number of hours spent in daycare. He’s a dangerous criminal with a history of manipulating and victimizing women, but can suddenly be around their child (Stop Praising Colleen Hoover’s ‘It Ends With Us.’ Here’s What You’re Missing – Ms. Magazine).
Miss Magazine article goes on to point out that Section 31A of the Massachusetts state legislature notes that where physical or sexual violence has occurred between parents, any form of unsupervised visitation or custody with the abusive parent is considered “contrary to the best interest of the child” and is generally not permitted. The fact that Lily doesn’t press charges does not change the reality of what occurred; it simply means the abuse is undocumented. It also does not address that Ryle’s behavior is inherently wrong, so wrong that he should not be allowed around his child, because if he abused Lily, it is statistically far more likely that he could harm their child.
In case you hoped that Hoover had learned from her own mistakes and had decided to perhaps rectify these issues, follow-up novel, It Starts With Us, spoiler alert, continues this pattern, with Ryle repeatedly exhibiting both physical and emotional abuse-yet Ryle is still allowed around his and Lily’s child, Emerson.
Of course, domestic abuse is a complicated issue, and it is important to emphasize that, like Lily, many women do not report their abusers for a variety of reasons, and that is okay. There is no “perfect” victim, a stereotype that suggests women must navigate the justice system or abusive situations in a specific “correct” way. However, It Ends With Us is a work of fiction, and the choices characters make can influence readers’ perceptions of relationships and abuse. Domestic abuse is rarely addressed in popular media, and Hoover could have used her platform to normalize reporting abusers, even when the victim has a child, yet she largely does not.
The book does little to highlight that abuse is wrong or unhealthy, a problem also ever present in the movie adaptation. This lack of attention contributes to a broader issue in diction and framing, where abuse is presented as plot tension rather than a serious societal problem. Jeanette McKellar of The Tulane Hullabaloo writes that, in Hoover’s work, “women are illustrated as passive objects, only able to derive agency when their male counterpart chooses them,” and her stories feature “romanticization of toxic masculinity, unhealthy codependent relationships, and abusive, controlling behavior.” Meanwhile, Liora Picker of the Daily Targum notes that this is likely intentional, as Hoover uses abuse as a source of tension and conflict: “Romance saturated with adrenaline has a high entertainment value and thus draws readers in and creates success for an author. As such, the trend in romance is to create intensely dramatic stories filled with abuse that leave a reader in suspense and wanting more.”
Both perspectives highlight a serious issue; by framing abuse as entertainment or a plot device, readers, particularly young readers, may come to view toxic behaviors as normal or acceptable in relationships. Of course, you might argue it is just a book, it is fiction. But the problem is that fiction, especially fiction consumed by younger audiences, can heavily influence perceptions of consent, boundaries, and healthy relationships. While Hoover is not a YA novelist, her readership is largely young women cultivated through BookTok. As Whitney Atkinson observes: “Romance novels are almost always read by women in the new adult genre, particularly young women, and what authors depict in their books dictates how young women interpret love and relationships. Abusive situations and dialogue being normalized in romance novels tells women, ‘it is okay to have a man control you, what you do, what you wear, and where you go, because it means he loves you,’ which I do not think is okay (Terasaki).
There is an unhealthy numbness around abuse and survivors. It’s interesting how the main appeal of Hoover’s work, utilizing violence for plot twists, is the exact reason why her books are hurtful. I don’t say this to sound better than anyone, but I hope I never find enjoyment in books like this which glorify suffering. If all you take away from reading this is to reconsider the media you consume and have more sensitivity around trauma, that’s a win for me. Unfortunately, abuse in the real world won’t stop anytime soon, but we can at least stop glamorizing it.
I do not mean to sound like one of those women who advocate banning books in schools, but the way abuse is portrayed does affect how society views domestic violence and the victims of it.By putting It Ends With Us in the romance genre insinuates that what occurs in the book is romantic. In this way, It Ends With Us is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Though the hope is that readers can distinguish between romance and abuse, young readers may struggle with this distinction. Its audience is young women and teens, who are the most vulnerable and likely to be in toxic relationships. These readers then assume it is some kind of perfect piece of literature. I am not arguing that serious social issues like domestic violence should not appear in books, but the subject matter needs to be handled responsibly.
If you think what I have to say is extreme, Kelly Schwint of The Observer suggests we “cancel” her books, saying “Although it can be educational to read about these subjects, using them as plot devices is not. Hoover uses violence for its shock value, rather than addressing it with any real substance. Not only does this invalidate people’s experiences, but it belittles them too. Sure, you could argue that victims should avoid reading books containing triggering subjects, but when there are no trigger warnings, how are they supposed to know? Let’s move past the victim blaming. Regardless, it’s a moot point when millions of people obsess over fictional abusers on social media, platforms that are unavoidable if you want to keep up with all the latest trends, which we’re all expected to do.
It Ends With Us is hardly the only example of Hoover’s work glamorizing abusive relationships. Readers have turned their backs on other Hoover books as well. For instance, YouTuber Whitney Atkinson posted a passage from Hoover’s November 9 on X, in which a male love interest considers using physical force to keep the female protagonist from leaving his car (Terasaki). Screenshots show the character blocking a door and taking her car keys to prevent her from leaving, as well as attempting to emotionally manipulate her into staying. All of these actions are abusive and meant to control the victim. As such, this shows a pattern that
And, if the writing of this book does not glamorize unhealthy relationships, the marketing around the book and film certainly does. One could argue that the marketing is meant to shock the reader, but the problem with such a theory is that this is Hoover’s literary “move.” She writes a love story and then saddles the main character with some sort of severe trauma time, and time again, meaning that the use of it as a major plot in “It Ends With Us” is not a choice to highlight domestic violence, but rather to use a formula of trauma to sell books, something I feel is wrong. John Grishum writing about lawyers, or Jenny Han writing about love triangles is very different than continually using trauma to shock the readers isn’t a motif or a stylistic choice, it’s cheap writing.
The marketing also goes beyond the lack of warning about the triggering topic of abuse and demonstrates a blatant disregard for the seriousness of the issue. In 2023, Hoover announced that in addition to a nail polish collaboration with Essie, the book would receive a coloring book. One might hope that this ill-advised merchandising would raise money for domestic violence victims, but it did not.
Hoover has discussed that she watched her own parents’ domestic violence, which inspired her to write the book. However, Hoover has alarmingly done very little to advocate for victims of domestic violence through this book, that extends to her personal life. Hoover’s own son, Levi, was accused of harassing a sixteen-year-old girl who was a fan of her mother’s book. Diversify reports, “On February 12, 2022, which has since been deleted, a Twitter user with the handle @theonottlovebot contributed to a thread against Colleen Hoover, writing, ‘Her son also sexually harassed me and she blocked me when I spoke up about it to her.’” In a second tweet, she elaborated: “Long story short, we were friends on [Snapchat] and every day we would message because we were friends, right? This was when I was sixteen, and he was fully aware of how old I was because I always talked about the fact I was still in school.” She also provided now-deleted screenshots showing that she had messaged Colleen Hoover on Instagram explaining the situation and proof she was friends with Levi, Colleen’s son, including screenshots of his Snapchat handle.
The tweet was later taken down, but Hoover did address the allegations in a private Facebook group for her fans in November of that year, several months later. She said: “Things being said about my son aren’t accurate. People are commenting that I blocked a girl for informing me that my son sexually assaulted her when she was sixteen. This absolutely did not happen, and this is not even initially what was said by this person. My son and a girl were online friends for several months. They never met in person. He said something to her in a message that made her uncomfortable—he asked her to send him a pic—so she messaged me about it. I did not read this message, but she thought I did, and it understandably upset her that I didn’t respond. She then posted on Twitter that my son asked her for a pic. As soon as I found out about this months ago, I reached out to her. We discussed what happened, I apologized to her and thanked her for bringing this to my attention, and I offered to send her our home address and lawyer information should she want it. I held my son accountable for sending a message to her that was inappropriate. I addressed it directly with her and with my son. I didn’t address it publicly because 1) I feel it is not my place to talk about someone else’s experience and 2) everyone who knows me here has seen me parent these boys and hold them accountable. I’m sad this happened. You know I have tried my best to raise my children with respect and to show respect.”
We cannot judge parents for the actions of their children, but this seems to be evidence that Hoover doesn’t really care about victims of abuse. After all, if she has raised her children, even though, let’s be honest, he was an adult, one might expect better behavior from him. But since she apparently thinks there is nothing wrong with Lily and Atlas sleeping together, we might assume Hoover could chalk her son’s behavior up to a “cute little disagreement” that is legal under the Romeo and Juliet laws Hoover implements in her books. As a result of these controversies, many users finally began to rail against the unhealthy subject matter in Hoover’s romance novels, a TikTok that went viral shows a user responding to the controversy by turning their Colleen Hoover books around so other people cannot see the title or author, the literary equivalent of burying one’s head in the sand.
Despite the problematic content in the novel, and by its author, Wayfair Studio decided to adapt the book into a movie. The film keeps many of the book’s problematic aspects but does age up the characters. Even so, much like the book marketing, the movie’s promotional team encouraged viewers to “bring your friends” and “wear your florals” to a pink, flower-filled rom-com seemingly trying to rival the Barbie movie. The marketing made no mention of the domestic violence storyline Hoover claims is central, failing to warn viewers who might be traumatized, and implicitly suggesting that the abuse plotline was secondary, only included to make the story more dramatic. Trailers, posters, and other promotional materials presented the movie as a light-hearted romantic comedy, with no focus on the abuse or the very serious issues the book raises.
Press coverage also highlights that even those in the film seemed unwilling or unable to address the primary issue. Blake Lively, who plays Lily, spent more time promoting her hair line than discussing domestic violence. Cast drama aside, Justin Baldoni, the director and actor portraying Atlas, was the only actor who addressed domestic violence during extensive press coverage. This reinforces the impression that Hoover and the film’s marketing care little about victims of domestic violence. It would be like if every cast member of Greta Gerwig’s Barbie discussed only costumes or hair instead of the feminist themes of the story.
I am not against smut, as some might think. I love a good love novel. But I am arguing against a book with smut that has become incredibly popular while idealizing toxic relationships, particularly physically abusive ones. Domestic violence is an issue more books need to address, and it must be done responsibly. These issues should and must be talked about in literature, but I do not believe they belong in a smut novel like It Ends With Us.
As such, while Colleen Hoover has undeniably achieved immense commercial success, her work raises serious concerns about the way domestic violence and abusive relationships are portrayed and marketed. Both the book and film adaptation of It Ends With Us present abuse as a plot device, glamorizing toxic relationships and normalizing behaviors that, in reality, are dangerous and harmful. The marketing campaigns further exacerbate the problem, framing the story as a light-hearted romance while minimizing the very real trauma at its core. Success and popularity should not excuse a lack of responsibility in portraying sensitive issues. Literature and media have the power to shape how audiences, particularly young women, understand relationships, consent, and personal boundaries, and it is imperative that this power is wielded with care, not trivialized for entertainment or profit. For these reasons, despite its fame, It Ends With Us serves as a cautionary example of how books and films can inadvertently harm rather than help, and why critical engagement with content is more important than ever. I hope that stories about victims of domestic violence, a serious social issue all too common in our society, are told, to bring light and to help talk about a tragic experience too many people experience. But when they are written, and I believe they will be by the next generation of writers to come, I hope they are handled with care, and well-written. It does end with us, but only when we choose to recognize abuse, hold perpetrators accountable, and refuse to normalize or romanticize toxic relationships.
It Ends With Us is now available to stream on digital video-on-demand sites like Amazon Prime Video, Apple TV+, Fandango At Home, and YouTube Movies & TV. You can purchase It Ends With Us for $24.99 or rent the film for $19.99 (for a 48-hour period). Or you know, you can watch literally anything else.
If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence or the threat of domestic violence, call the National Domestic Violence Hotline for help at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).
Work Cited
Brown, Emily. “A Fiction Author Has Sold More Books than the Bible This Year – RELEVANT.” RELEVANT, 19 Sept. 2022, relevantmagazine.com/culture/books/a-fiction-author-has-sold-more-books-than-the-bible-this-year. Accessed 7 Nov. 2025.
Distractify Staff. “Author Colleen Hoover Addresses Harassment Allegations against Her Son.” Distractify, 6 Dec. 2022, www.distractify.com/p/colleen-hoover-son.
Hoover, Colleen. It Ends with Us. New York, Atria Books, 2 Aug. 2016. —. It Starts with Us. Simonschuster Ltd, 18 Oct. 2022.
Schwint, Kelly. “Cancel Colleen Hoover.” The Observer, 28 Sept. 2022, fordhamobserver.com/70223/opinions/cancel-colleen-hoover/.
Terasaki, Kimberly. “Why Bestselling Romance Author Colleen Hoover Is Receiving Backlash.” The Mary Sue, 30 Dec. 2022, www.themarysue.com/the-colleen-hoover-controversy-explained/.
Wise, Alana. “The Movie “It Ends with Us” Faces Criticism for Glamorizing Domestic Abuse.” NPR, 28 Aug. 2024, www.npr.org/2024/08/28/nx-s1-5088075/movie-it-ends-with-us-faces-criticism-glamorizing-abuse.
Young, Jennie. “Stop Praising Colleen Hoover’s “It Ends with Us.” Here’s What You’re Missing.” Ms. Magazine, 7 Sept. 2022, msmagazine.com/2022/09/07/it-ends-with-us-book-review. Accessed 7 Nov. 2025.