In Honor of Carrie

  

 

Carrie Fisher lived. 

She was a star from birth whether she wanted it or not. She decided to shine. She decided to shine for every little girl who wanted to sing. For every little girl who wanted to be like her mom and every little girl who wanted to be anyone else. She decided to shine for big sisters. For secret twins. For princesses who save themselves and princesses who fall in love. For women who lose the love of their life and women who lose their mind. She decided to shine for her daughter. For single mothers. For women hurt by men. For women who feel too much. Women who talk too much. For women who weigh too much and are too old. Women who take up too much space. Women who deserve better than to be told how much space they are allowed. She decided to shine for everyone who struggles with mental illness. For everyone with flaws which is everyone. She decided to shine a light on herself and her life. And she changed lives. She changed my life. 

Carrie Fisher lived. 

I wrote this as part of my Women’s History Month celebration in March. I never met her, but she inspired me. As Leia, but more importantly as Carrie. She lived out loud and encouraged me to do the same. This past October, almost exactly one year after I posted that essay, a series of events that can really only be explained by the Force, or Carrie’s interference, lead to Mark Hamill giving me a hug while I was dressed as Leia. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.