Padmé Amidala’s Fantasy-Driven Love for Anakin Skywalker
“Her life before Anakin belonged to someone else, some lesser being to be pitied, some poor impoverished spirit who could never suspect how profoundly life should be lived.
Her real life began the first time she looked into Anakin Skywalker’s eyes and found in there not the uncritical worship of little Annie from Tatooine, but the direct, unashamed, smoldering passion of a powerful Jedi: a young man, to be sure, but every centimeter a man - a man whose legend was already growing within the Jedi Order and beyond. A man who knew exactly what he wanted and was honest enough to simply ask for it; a man strong enough to unroll his deepest feelings before her without fear and without shame. A man who had loved her for a decade, with faithful and patient heart, while he waited for the act of destiny he was sure would someday open her own heart to the fire in his.
But though she loves her husband without reservation, love does not blind her to his faults. She is older than he, and wise enough to understand him better than he does himself. He is not a perfect man: he is prideful, and moody, and quick to anger - but these faults only make her love him the more, for his every flaw is more than balanced by the greatness within him, his capacity for joy and cleansing laughter, his extraordinary generosity of spirit, his passionate devotion not only to her but also in the service of every living being.
He is a wild creature that has come gently to her hand, a vine tiger purring against her cheek. Every softness of his touch, every kind glance or loving word is a small miracle in itself. How can she not be grateful for such gifts?”
From the novelization of RotS.
Padmé Amidala’s inner monologue from the Revenge of the Sith novelization offers a fascinating but deeply flawed insight into her perspective, exposing glaring inconsistencies in her character and worldview. While Padmé is often portrayed as an empathetic and wise leader, her thoughts here betray a sense of immaturity, condescension, and a disturbing romanticization of Anakin’s deeply problematic behavior.
Condescension and Elitism
Padmé’s reflection on her life before Anakin is alarmingly dismissive of not only herself but also the people she claimed to serve. Describing her previous existence as belonging to "some lesser being to be pitied, some poor impoverished spirit," she inadvertently exposes a deep-seated elitism. This sentiment starkly contrasts with her public image as a compassionate leader devoted to uplifting the disenfranchised. Her words betray an inherent belief in her own superiority, rooted in her privilege as Naboo nobility, which feels jarringly disconnected from her political career as a champion of the underprivileged.
By referring to others as “poor impoverished spirits,” Padmé reduces the lived experiences of countless beings across the galaxy to pitiable, shallow existences, implicitly suggesting that they lack the capacity to truly understand life’s profundities. Such condescension undermines her credibility as an empathetic leader who is supposed to value all lives equally. For someone who ostensibly devoted herself to serving the needs of the downtrodden, these thoughts suggest a deep-seated disconnect from the very people she claims to represent. How can someone who views the galaxy’s poor as "lesser beings" genuinely champion their rights? Her compassion, as implied by these musings, is framed not as equality but as an almost victorian noblesse oblige, a patronizing obligation to protect those she implicitly considers beneath her.
Condescension Towards Anakin
Padmé’s description of Anakin as someone she understands better than he understands himself is patronizing at best and dismissive of his autonomy at worst. While it is true that she is older than Anakin and likely more experienced, her framing positions herself as his intellectual and emotional superior, diminishing him to a wild, untamed creature she has tamed through her grace and love.
Referring to him as a "vine tiger purring against her cheek" infantilizes and romanticizes him in equal measure, echoing an unhealthy dynamic where she both elevates and diminishes him simultaneously, reducing him to a being she controls rather than a partner she respects as an equal. This language strips Anakin of complexity and humanity, framing him as a prize she has won rather than a partner of the same standing as she.
She views him almost as a project—someone she must guide and “fix.” This attitude not only undermines the mutual respect required in a healthy relationship but also sets her up as an idealized, almost maternal figure in Anakin’s life, which is problematic given his apparent yearning for a nurturing presence to replace his mother and his well-documented struggles with emotional regulation, anger, and trauma.
Instead of addressing these issues with the seriousness they deserve, Padmé romanticizes his volatility, viewing his faults as charming quirks rather than dangerous red flags. Instead she positions herself as a benevolent overseer of Anakin's flaws as endearing traits she is uniquely equipped to handle. This naïve approach not only undermines her judgment but also places her in harm's way, as evidenced by his eventual violent actions toward her.
For a 27-year-old woman who has spent years navigating the intricacies of politics and war, Padmé’s thoughts read more like the diary of a lovestruck teenager than the reflections of a seasoned leader. Her infatuation with Anakin’s “smoldering passion” and the “fire in his eyes” feels shallow and disproportionate, especially considering the stakes of their relationship at this point in the story. She is on the verge of giving birth during a galactic war, yet her focus remains on idealizing a man who has already demonstrated significant moral and ethical failings.
This immaturity is further highlighted by her dismissal of Anakin’s violent tendencies and inability to handle rejection or criticism. She acknowledges his pride, moodiness, and quick temper, yet brushes them aside as minor flaws overshadowed by his supposed “greatness.” This blind devotion prevents her from confronting the reality of Anakin’s descent into darkness, instead choosing to cling to a fantasy of who she wants him to be.
Romanticizing Unhealthy Behavior
Padmé’s belief that Anakin has loved her faithfully for a decade borders on absurdity when one considers the context. Anakin was a nine-year-old child when they first met, a child incapable of comprehending romantic love in a meaningful way. His “love” for her at that age was more akin to hero worship or a childhood crush. His fixation on her during the intervening years is less a testament to his devotion and more indicative of an unhealthy obsession. By the time they reunite, Anakin is an emotionally stunted teenager with significant anger issues and a propensity for violence, as demonstrated by his massacre of the Tusken village.
Padmé’s dismissal of this atrocity, coupled with her romanticization of his flaws, reveals her inability to see Anakin for who he truly is. Instead, she projects onto him qualities he does not possess, such as a supposed “devotion to every living being,” which is blatantly contradicted by his actions. Anakin’s loyalty is limited to a small circle of people he cares about, and he is willing to sacrifice entire planets and populations to protect them. Far from being selfless, his actions are often driven by selfishness and a refusal to let go of those he loves.
Padmé’s inner thoughts in this passage are deeply problematic, exposing a condescending attitude toward others, an immature understanding of love, and a dangerous tendency to romanticize unhealthy behavior. Far from being the wise and compassionate leader she is often portrayed as, this depiction reveals her as naïve, elitist, and out of touch with reality. Her unwavering idealization of Anakin blinds her to his faults and enables his destructive behavior, ultimately contributing to the tragedy that unfolds. In this light, Padmé’s story becomes not just one of personal loss but also of the devastating consequences of failing to confront uncomfortable truths.
Her thoughts reveal that her attachment to Anakin is not rooted in a deep understanding or acceptance of who he truly is but rather in an idealized, almost fictionalized version of him. This essay explores the possibility that Padmé’s love for Anakin is based more on his physical attractiveness, status, and the thrilling fantasy he represents, rather than on a genuine emotional connection.
Infatuation with Power, Fame, and Status
Padmé’s admiration for Anakin’s physical appearance and reputation is evident in her thoughts:
“...the direct, unashamed, smoldering passion of a powerful Jedi: a young man, to be sure, but every centimeter a man— a man whose legend was already growing within the Jedi Order and beyond.”
This description emphasizes Anakin’s physical allure and his rising fame within the galaxy. Padmé appears captivated by his role as a Jedi hero and “the Chosen One,” as if these external attributes define his worth. Her fixation on his power and status raises questions about whether she would have been as drawn to him if he were an ordinary person without his heroic image.
Anakin’s role in the Clone Wars as a celebrated warrior likely amplified this allure. To Padmé, his deeds on the battlefield and his “larger-than-life” persona may have symbolized strength, protection, and excitement—qualities that fed into her romantic fantasy. However, this focus on external attributes creates a shallow foundation for their relationship, where Padmé values what Anakin represents rather than who he truly is.
Resistance to the Ordinary
Padmé’s reluctance to acknowledge the realities of her relationship and her insistence on secrecy reflect her fear of losing the fantasy she has built. By keeping their marriage a secret, Padmé avoids the mundane responsibilities that come with open commitment, especially as parents. This secrecy also ensures that Anakin remains in the Jedi Order, maintaining the illusion of him as the heroic “Chosen One” rather than an ordinary man.
Her hesitation to accept Anakin leaving the Jedi Order—despite his willingness to do so for her and their child—further underscores her attachment to his status. Without the prestige of his Jedi identity, Anakin would lose much of the mystique that fuels Padmé’s romanticized view of him. A life outside the Order, where Anakin might take on a humble, civilian role, would lack the excitement and grandeur she associates with their relationship.
The Fantasy of the Hero and the Damsel
Padmé’s perception of her relationship with Anakin resembles a narrative straight out of a teenage romantic novel. In this fantasy, she casts herself as the heroine, a damsel in distress rescued and cherished by a dashing knight in shining armor:
“Her real life began the first time she looked into Anakin Skywalker’s eyes..."
This statement diminishes her achievements and reduces her identity to being the object of Anakin’s affection. It also reveals her belief that her relationship with Anakin has elevated her life to a level of profound significance that others can only dream of. This is the crux of her fantasy: she views herself as living out a romantic narrative, one in which she is the main character and Anakin is the larger-than-life hero who completes her.
The thrill of their forbidden love, heightened by the secrecy and danger of the Clone Wars, making it feel like a dramatic, star-crossed love story rather than a grounded partnership, fuels this fantasy. Their brief, adrenaline-filled encounters allow Padmé to avoid confronting the complexities and flaws in their relationship. She seems more captivated by the excitement and drama of their circumstances than by Anakin himself.
What´s more, this perspective also reduces her to a passive figure whose identity revolves around her romantic connection. Padmé’s reflections diminish her own sense of agency and independence. By framing her life before Anakin as belonging to a "lesser being," she effectively erases her accomplishments as queen and senator. This framing reduces her identity to her relationship with Anakin, portraying her as a woman who finds her "real life" only through her husband. She views her pre-Anakin self—and by extension, the very people she claims to serve—as pitiable, as though her life only gained meaning through her relationship with a powerful man. This is particularly problematic given that Padmé is supposed to be a role model of strength and leadership. Her thoughts here make her seem more like a character in Anakin’s story than the protagonist of her own.
The Cost of Living in a Fantasy
Padmé’s refusal to wake from this romantic fantasy has far-reaching consequences. Her inability to confront the reality of Anakin’s flaws—his possessiveness, violent tendencies, moral compromises and growing obsession with power—allows his darker impulses to grow unchecked. When Anakin confesses to murdering the Tuskens, including women and children, Padmé rationalizes his actions rather than addressing the gravity of what he has done because acknowledging these realities would shatter her romantic illusion.
This denial extends to her pregnancy. Padmé’s insistence on keeping their relationship secret under the guise of duty to the common people of the galaxy and protecting Anakin’s position within the Jedi Order, even as she approaches the birth of their child, reveals a troubling prioritization of the romantic fantasy over practical concerns. A child would inevitably expose their relationship, yet Padmé continues to cling to the illusion that they can maintain their double lives. This decision suggests that Padmé values the drama and excitement of their forbidden love more than the stability and safety of their unborn child. The fantasy of being a romantic heroine takes precedence over her role as a mother.
This failure to confront reality not only endangers her but also their unborn children. Padmé’s prioritization of the fantasy over practical concerns means that her children are born into chaos, with no stable foundation or clear future. Her eventual death from heartbreak underscores the destructive power of her refusal to let go of the fantasy, as she chooses to die rather than face life without Anakin. This choice illustrates the ultimate consequence of clinging to an illusion: the loss of self, family, and the opportunity to create a meaningful legacy.
Padmé Amidala’s love for Anakin Skywalker, as depicted in the Revenge of the Sith novelization, is deeply rooted in an idealized fantasy. Her admiration for his physical attractiveness, fame, and status as a Jedi hero overshadows a genuine understanding of who he is. This fantasy-driven love blinds her to the flaws in their relationship and prevents her from confronting the responsibilities of motherhood and partnership.
Ultimately, Padmé’s refusal to let go of the romanticized narrative she has created not only undermines her character’s maturity but also contributes to the tragic downfall of both herself and Anakin. By clinging to an illusion, she sacrifices the opportunity to build a grounded, meaningful life for herself and her child. In doing so, her story serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of idealizing relationships and clinging to illusions at the expense of truth and responsibility.
