Would you love me if I was a worm?

according to stats probably not ...

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
It’s a ridiculous, oddly poetic question—one that resurfaces every few years in memes, TikToks, and long, meandering Twitter threads. It’s mostly Gen Z and millennial women asking their boyfriends this, half-jokingly. It’s playful. It’s absurd. It’s somehow everywhere.

Even Heidi Klum dressed up as a worm for Halloween. Yes, that worm. The one that haunts the internet every few years like some kind of slippery, sparkly ghost of commitment issues past. (Terrible joke, I admit.)

But behind the humour, I think the question is actually kind of brilliant.

Because sure—it’s bizarre. Who’s turning into a worm on a random Wednesday? But what we’re really asking is: Would you love me even if I changed? Even if I was no longer beautiful? Still? Even then?

We live in a world where looks do matter—often more than we want to admit. The first thing people notice is your face. Your body. Your presence. So asking if love can survive when all of that is stripped away… it’s not so ridiculous, is it?

The “worm” is a metaphor, of course. It doesn’t have to be about looks. It could be about any kind of change—physical illness, disability, trauma. What if I couldn’t walk anymore? What if I couldn’t go out like we used to, or do the things we planned for our future? Would your love stretch that far?

The uncomfortable truth? Statistically, men are more likely to leave their sick partners than women are. There’s actual research on this. A 2020 Guardian article explored how women are significantly more likely to be abandoned when they become seriously ill—despite the “in sickness and in health” vows made at the altar.

I’ve seen this happen in real life. A family friend of mine, in her late 30s, had a stroke that left the left side of her body paralysed. Her long-term boyfriend—the one she’d been hoping would propose—disappeared. Gone. It wasn’t him who showed up. It was my mother. And other women. They bathed her, cooked for her, helped care for her kids, helped her rebuild her life.

So yeah—when we ask “Would you love me if I was a worm?” we’re laughing, sure. But we’re also poking at something real, something scary. We’re asking: Is your love rooted in who I am—or in what I can do for you? In how I look?

Even in pop culture, this tension plays out. I think of an episode of Winx Club (yes, I watched it religiously) where Stella gets transformed into a frog-like creature by a villain. She hides from Brandon, terrified he’ll see her differently. But instead, it makes their love stronger. It makes her stronger—she realises she’s more than her looks. More than her golden hair and perfect smile.

If only reality mirrored that.

I do believe there are boyfriends, husbands, partners out there who will love without conditions. Who will stand by you no matter what. But I can only speak from what I’ve seen. And what I’ve seen often isn’t that.

It all ties back to what we value in men and women. Like Marilyn Monroe said in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953):

“Don’t you know that a man being rich is like a girl being pretty?”

Not much has changed, has it? Women's value still feels rooted in appearance. Men’s in money. Though I’ll admit—these days, conventionally attractive men are starting to feel the pressure too. Now that men are also being judged by their looks, society suddenly calls it a “crisis.” Go figure.

So yes—maybe the worm question seems silly. But love, vulnerability, and insecurity? Those things are never silly. In fact, they’ve never been more relevant. Especially now, when we’re all trying to figure out if love can survive past the surface.

Also, it is kind of fun to ask your boyfriend while watching Love Island USA (the superior version, don’t fight me):
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

Let me know how it goes. I’m curious. And also chronically single.
So… research, I guess?