The Evolution of Shapeshifters: From Monster to Mirror
I've been tracking something most people miss about shapeshifter stories.
They used to be pure scare tactics. Now they're relatability points.
This shift reveals something deeper about how we process fear and belonging through storytelling. Ancient shapeshifter beliefs trace back 13,000 years through cave art, but their purpose has completely transformed.
I discovered this pattern while writing my own shapeshifter characters.
The Personal Breakthrough
When I created Paige in Witches of the West, she was struggling with uncontrolled shifting. The whole storyline emerged from a conversation with my daughter about explosive emotions in inappropriate settings.
That's when it hit me. I wasn't writing about supernatural creatures.
I was writing about the parts of ourselves society tells us are monstrous. "You're too emotional, too loud, too much."
I've always used fantasy stories to process real struggles. As a kid dealing with an abusive, bipolar mother, I transformed our abuser into different types of villains and monsters we could work with or defeat.
But eventually, I realized something that changed everything.
The monster didn't always need to be defeated. Sometimes it was just wounded and fighting for its life.
The Real Monsters Aren’t Always Defeated
Here's what pisses me off most about writing shapeshifters: there's barely any difference between the redeemable ones and the truly monstrous ones.
The real difference happens when they realize they've crossed a line.
A monster who's an enemy saw the line, stepped over it, and when given a chance to back up and try something right, they doubled down instead of trying to get better.
When I write these moments, I give characters a critical choice. In that split second, I let them see something small. A micro-expression. A smell. A sound.
They have one moment to reconsider.
Sometimes they snap back to their core. Sometimes they don't.
I don't control this process. I just sink into the moment and ride it out with the characters. That's why we don't always win. Sometimes my characters make the wrong choice and derail the entire outline.
From Scare Tactic to Safe Space
This evolution reflects our changing relationship with the "other." Modern shapeshifters have become chameleons of the narrative world, their morality reflecting the society that creates them.
Ancient cultures used shapeshifters to explain natural phenomena or enforce moral boundaries. We use them to explore identity, marginalization, and belonging.
The shift from purely monstrous beings to complex, sometimes sympathetic characters mirrors broader changes in how we process difference.
We've moved from "defeat the monster" to "understand the wounded."
In shapeshifter stories, people find a place where the parts of themselves they're told to hide actually belong. Contemporary narratives increasingly explore identity fluidity and the complexities of the human condition.
Shapeshifting as Cultural Healing
When I write shapeshifters now, I almost feel like I'm reaching into the void of time and space, connecting with people who already exist.
My job is getting to know them.
We connect on a level of understanding. I've tried writing characters with nothing in common with me. The storytelling didn't turn out great.
I don't feel in control as much as I channel others through me.
This is what shapeshifter mythology has become. Not stories about literal transformation, but about the moment we choose between doubling down on our worst impulses or finding our way back to our core.
The monsters stopped being something external to defeat.
They became mirrors for the wounded parts of ourselves that are still fighting to heal.
But here's what I think is really happening: we're evolving as a society, moving away from the "sins" of existence toward a path of redemption through acceptance of self.
This isn't just a literary trend. It's cultural healing.
We're finally understanding that the "monstrous" parts of ourselves—the emotions society tells us are too much, the aspects we're taught to hide—aren't sins to be purged. They're wounded pieces that need integration.
Shapeshifter stories have become our collective therapy session, where we practice accepting the full spectrum of human experience without judgment.
The monsters stopped being external threats because we realized the real work was internal. The real transformation happens when we choose compassion over condemnation—for others and ourselves.
That's the most surprising evolution in shapeshifter mythology: they've become teachers of radical self-acceptance in a world that profits from our shame.
