Day Thirteen
I caught part of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast on TV today.

Beauty and the Beast is the first movie I remember seeing in a theater. I have this memory of my mother taking me to the theater and sitting in the with her in the dark. I was maybe four years old? I remember the end of the movie, when the Beast turns back into the prince, on the giant screen.

I’ve probably seen Beauty and the Beast a hundred times. I know all the words to all the songs by heart. I dream of Belle’s library. Disney movies are really one of the cornerstones of my childhood – Beauty and the Beast, The Little Mermaid, Aladdin, Mulan, The Lion King, Fantasia and The Great Mouse Detective were part of the beginning of my love of stories along with the books my mother read to me, and the stories my father told me. I know these movies are not based strongly on the original tales and they can be problematic, but that doesn’t deter my love for them. They shaped who I am today.

But watching that movie today, it reminded me of being a child again. How the world was big, but as a child, your world is what the people around you make it. I had a happy childhood. We traveled and my mother took us to museums and plays and concerts. My father worked a lot and we didn’t see much of him when we were young. I don’t resent him for it – his hard work gave me so many opportunities. He still taught me to play chess, and how to read a map when we went on road trips, and showed us Star Wars for the first time.

As an adult, the illusions of my childhood have been shattered. It’s been hard to reconcile some of the happy memories with what I know now. There were secrets and lies, though they were all made with the best of intentions. It’s hard to be angry at that, but it’s also hard not to be angry at it.

At the end of the day, I love my family, as messed up as we are. And maybe in the end that is all that matters. The happiness I felt as a child was real, even if there is a shadow on it now. The love was real and that never changed. Those memories are still part of who I am. I’ve learned to come to terms and forgiven. It still hurts sometimes, but with time I have learned to understand.

So, what does this have to do with Disney movies? I don’t know. Maybe, like Disney movies, it’s okay to hold onto the things that are imperfect. The happiness of those times was and is real. It doesn’t change with new knowledge. I’ll always remember how much I loved sitting in that theater with my mother watching the story unfold.

Love,
February