Xena

Growing up, I loved Xena: Warrior Princess.  I would play it in the backyard with my sister and cousin.  Of course, I was always Xena.  Always.  Sister was usually Gabrielle and cousin was Callisto, once they were done arguing over it, but I was always Xena.  We would run around the backyard trying to imitate that famous banshee cry and shooting homemade bows and arrows.  Yes, I realize Xena never used a bow and arrow, but Dad wasn’t real keen on the idea of us using wooden swords.  Looking back, he should probably have been a little more worried about the arrow shooting too, but hey, it was the 90’s.  Xena was such an important part of my childhood.  It gave me a strong female role model.  It inspired my imagination.  It introduced me to the world of pop culture cults and camp.  It was my first introduction to Bruce Campbell, Lucy Lawless, Sam Rami. 

Now fast forward to 2016…  THEY ARE BRINGING XENA BACK!  When I heard the news, I was so excited.  I still am, but the excitement has kind of faded as I realized what this really meant for my beloved, leather-clad warrior princess.  You see, the new Xena won’t be my Xena. 

My Xena lives in the treasured memories of sitting with my sister watching the original series on TV.  Of jumping off the rock wall in our backyard or swinging on the jungle gym pretending to catch an imaginary chakra.  Even re-watching the original series on Netflix strained this personal connection.  I never realized just how campy the show really was!  And the sexual tension between Xena and Gabrielle – yeah, didn’t get that at all as a child.  Now they will be completely remaking the series with a whole new cast.  Can Xena be anyone by Lucy Lawless?  So part of me is exited that young girls will have an opportunity for a strong female role model and part of me is thrilled to get a chance for more of Xena’s story, but part of me is sad for what seems like the death of my childhood hero.  

I have been struggling with this loss of innocence a lot lately.  You would think 30 would be a little late for innocence, but I found I still have a surprising amount.  And what is worse, the loss is way more painful when you actually understand it.  I have reached the time in my life where things from my childhood are starting to fall apart.  Actors, musicians, and other celebrities that shaped who I am are dying.  Franchises that brought me the settings and characters for my make-believe games are being rebooted in fantastic and startling ways.  Wolverine doesn’t wear gaudy blue and yellow anymore.  Gollum isn’t quite so scary when he isn’t animated.  In a way the loss of innocence has allowed me to appreciate more of the nuance behind these things – like when you finally get all the dirty jokes in Animaniacs – but I am also aware of the cost of these revelations.