Last weekend, my partner and I took the plunge and hired a babysitter. We treated ourselves to an early dinner, secured tickets in advance, and, despite our fatigue, stayed up late to witness a long-awaited cinematic event. With two toddlers at home, late-night outings have fallen far down my list of priorities. There’s no blockbuster worth sacrificing sleep for—at least, not without some regret.
But this film felt different.
As I stood in line for popcorn, I sensed a palpable excitement in the air. In front of me, a mother and her preteen daughter proudly approached the counter, both donned in full Wonder Woman attire. At that moment, I knew this film was going to be extraordinary.
As the lights dimmed and the familiar prompt to silence cell phones appeared on screen, I felt an unexpected flutter of nerves in my stomach. I took a sip of my soda and squeezed my partner’s hand. “Why am I feeling so anxious?” I murmured. He smiled reassuringly, his grip tightening in response. But even his profound understanding couldn’t capture the rush of emotions I felt witnessing a lifelong hero come to life. Our first glimpse of Princess Diana was through the eyes of a 9-year-old girl, perched on a hillside, watching the Amazon warriors train. For those unfamiliar with this incredible saga, these warriors are all female. It gives me chills just to think about it. The child Diana emulated her heroes, executing punches and spins in the air with fierce confidence written all over her freckled face. She was a spirit unchained, a true warrior.
This scene resonated deeply with me as a woman and a mother. It reminded me of a little girl I once knew— a girl who, at family birthday parties, wore the cape and crown of her favorite superhero, believing she might one day soar through the sky. A girl whose tiny hands wielded an imaginary lasso, keeping the boys in check at the playground. Her heart brimmed with innocence and wonder, untouched by societal limitations. No one dared inform 4-year-old Sophie that she couldn’t conquer the world. After all, she had Wonder Woman as her inspiration!
Regrettably, three decades later, that magic began to fade. I was reminded repeatedly that true heroes were scarce in a society that constantly reinforced gender norms. I felt it when high school boys were excused for their behavior, while cheerleaders on birth control were labeled with derogatory terms. I felt it when a trusted adult shattered my confidence regarding my own autonomy. I felt it when I was hired as a property manager but referred to as merely a “secretary” by my male colleagues.
Every day, over 30 years, the reminder became clear: Wonder Woman was a fantasy. She simply couldn’t exist.
As I watched Diana’s journey unfold on the big screen, I braced myself for the impending heartbreak, anticipating the all-too-familiar Hollywood trope where a strong female character must be “damaged” to be relatable. I worried that her strength would be undermined by the need for a romantic storyline. I didn’t know if I could bear that narrative. I longed for the little girl who admired the warriors to simply grow up to become one.
Imagine my elation when she did. Minor spoiler alert In a World War II scene, amidst chaos, Diana shed her civilian attire to reveal the Wonder Woman we had always hoped for. As the men around her protested, “No! Don’t go! It’s too dangerous!” Gal Gadot fearlessly ascended from the trenches into No Man’s Land, where she single-handedly defeated her enemies. Because she could.
When the credits rolled, my partner turned to me with a smile. “So, what did you think?”
I beamed back, “It was absolutely perfect.” And to me, it truly was.
Wonder Woman stands as a bold, unapologetic challenge to the societal constraints that often diminish our daughters’ potential. She embodies emotional depth without dependency, beauty without being defined by it, and undeniable power without apology. That night, as I lay in bed replaying remarkable scenes, I felt the spirit of that little girl rising within me—cape and crown intact, her invisible lasso whipping around the playground, eyes sparkling with confidence and heart full of wonder. This is the superhero our daughters deserve. We’ve waited far too long for this.
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In summary, Wonder Woman is not just a character; she is a symbol of empowerment for little girls everywhere, reminding them of their potential to conquer the world. It’s about time we celebrated that hero.