I love romantic comedies. They're for me the easiest thing to do

“I love romantic comedies. They’re for me the easiest thing to do and the most natural to do. There’s nothing natural about holding an uzi hanging out of a moving van shooting at people. That’s not second nature to me, thank God.” Thus spoke Gabrielle Union, and in her words we hear not only a reflection on her craft, but also a profound meditation on the nature of the human spirit. For she reminds us that while some are drawn to tales of violence and destruction, others are most themselves when creating laughter, tenderness, and love. To choose the path of romance and joy is not weakness—it is strength, for it affirms life rather than diminishes it.

The ancients knew well this distinction between what is natural and what is contrary to the soul. Aristotle spoke of the telos, the natural end of a thing, its truest purpose. A tree is meant to bear fruit, a star to shine, a human to live with reason and virtue. To act against one’s nature is to fall into chaos, but to act in harmony with it is to flourish. Union declares that her art finds its home in romantic comedies, where love, humor, and human connection flourish. By contrast, the wielding of an uzi in violence is alien, a grotesque parody of human purpose.

Consider the story of Sophocles, who wrote both tragedies and comedies. The tragedies, heavy with blood and doom, shook the souls of audiences, but it was the comedies of Aristophanes that reminded Athens of joy, of laughter amidst the burdens of war. The one revealed human frailty, the other restored the human heart. Union’s preference for romantic comedies places her in this lineage of those who heal the spirit through levity, who remind us that despite the darkness, love and laughter remain possible.

Her rejection of the uzi is also symbolic. The weapon represents not only violence on screen, but also the glorification of destruction that so often captivates society. She stands against this, affirming instead the nobility of telling stories that bind people together, not tear them apart. In saying “thank God,” she gives thanks for her own alignment with life, for the mercy that her second nature is to create joy rather than to imitate bloodshed.

History gives us other examples of those who chose creation over destruction. Consider Florence Nightingale, who could have turned away from the horrors of war but instead chose to heal amidst its darkness. She rejected what was unnatural—the endless cycle of killing—and affirmed what was natural to the soul: compassion, service, and love. Union’s words echo this same truth: the higher calling is not to simulate violence, but to cultivate connection.

The lesson is clear: discover what is natural to you, and embrace it without shame. Do not be lured into roles—literal or symbolic—that distort your soul, even if they seem more glamorous, more praised, or more profitable. Your truest power lies in doing the work that flows from your essence. If love and laughter come easily to you, then create love and laughter. If healing or teaching, then pursue them with courage. To deny your natural gift is to live in falsehood; to embrace it is to walk in harmony with yourself and with the divine.

Practical action flows from this wisdom: examine your own life, and ask, “What feels natural to me? What is my second nature?” Then give yourself to it, not half-heartedly but with full devotion. Do not envy those whose talents lie elsewhere, for their path is not yours. Instead, cultivate your own soil, water your own garden, and watch it flourish. In doing so, you will give the world its truest gift: yourself, unmasked and unforced.

So, children of tomorrow, remember Gabrielle Union’s words. Do not glorify the uzi, nor the violence it represents, but cherish the romantic comedy of life—the joy, the tenderness, the laughter that comes when hearts meet. For in the end, these are not only the most natural things to do; they are the most enduring, the stories that will outlast all violence, and the treasures that make life worth living.