It's Mom's Fault

If I had a dollar for every time this year a guy friend teased me for saying Louisa May Alcott was my favorite author I'd have exactly $4.

Unfortunately that windfall of cash is only hypothetical, but Ms. Alcott's characters hold a very dear place in my heart. Particularly the middle daughter with a man's name.

Yup, I loved the movie/tv versions too

I think I was in middle school when I saw my first traditional Disney Princess film.  Mulan, Maid Marian, Nala, and Pocahontas were the Disney ladies of my childhood, but they were not the characters I deeply aspired to be. My games of pretend were more literarily dominated. Laura Ingalls Wilder and Jo March were my heroines. I spent hours in a bonnet and skirt (made by Mom) pretending to roam the prairies of Kansas or the forests of New England. I adopted their methods of speech and am still the brunt of family jokes for my "Ma and Pa" and "Mother and Father" phases. My mom cracks up even today as she remembers the formality of her little girl asking, "Is Father home yet?"

Both of the ladies of my literary aspirations had close families that included more than one sister, but that was not what drew me to them. I have always been content with the selfishness and rough merriment that my place as the only girl provides. If it wasn't a sister, then what was it?

Adventure. My heart longed for their adventures. To take on a variety of challenges and live a life that was more than being rescued by a prince and living "happily ever after." Not that I didn't have the romantic ideals of falling in love, but saw didn't see it as the ending to a great story. In the stories I held dear, love was just another part of the plot.

After seeing the movie I was a little bit "Team Teddy."
Just look at Christian Bale.

Now as an adult I wonder if my mother did that on purpose. If she nudged me in the direction of ladies whose stories were not passive but active pursuits because that is what she wanted for me. I'll have to ask her when I get the chance, but my suspicions are that it was a deliberate choice she made.

Now she has to face a slightly painful reality. It turns out, if you push your daughter to admire women of adventure she will go off on one of her own. She will see injustice and do her small part to help fix it. She will follow God's call even if it takes her away from you.

Thank you mom. Thank you for sharing rich stories with me, and for showing me that strong women should never be ashamed of who they are. Jo March may have sold her hair, lived with an unbearable aunt, and written a novel, but her fictional accomplishments have nothing on your real-life passion and strength.

'till the cows come home,
Ellie