I know, I know. There are Encanto posts EVERYWHERE right now. Sorry not sorry for making another one.
I have been slightly obsessed with this movie. It is rare that a movie- especially a kid's movie -hits me so hard in so many different ways. But this one has been a doozy for me and I have been fascinated to learn about all sorts of different nuances to the movie from the way that We Don't Talk About Bruno is written to the colors that the Madrigal's wear. And I have been analyzing the heck out of all of the characters and their relationships to one another. But what I want to talk about today is how I personally relate to characters in the movie and the insights that that has given me into how I feel about myself.
I asked a couple of my siblings recently which sister from Encanto they related to the most and was fairly unsurprised to hear their answers of Louisa and Isabella. But my sister seemed surprised when I told her how much I relate to Mirabel.
My whole life, I have felt less than. I have never felt that I'm the best at anything. I don't just feel second place, I feel like I'm not even in the running in most aspects of my life. This was very prevalent all through my school-age years. I was never good at sports (except for gymnastics, which I had to quit fairly young because of finances), I couldn't cook, I had a hard time making friends, I wasn't great at acting, I never did very well playing piano, etc. And I always looked up to my sister who seemed to be good at just about everything in my eyes. She was funny, could draw well, was generally good at sports, played the piano sufficiently, was good at cooking, had lots of friends, and had cute handwriting. Beyond her, it seemed that everyone in my family had something. Each of my brothers did sports at one time or another, a couple of them were very imaginative and wrote stories, etc.
I remember many a tear-filled conversation with my mother revolving around me feeling like everyone had a talent except me. She would always tell me that my talent was being compassionate, which like, was great and all, but I couldn't get up on stage and be compassionate for a talent show.
When I was about 12 I finally found something that I was good at; singing. I not only loved singing, but I was actually pretty good at it and only got better when my Mom finally gave in and let me start taking voice lessons.
I also found that I was pretty good at English. I had always loved reading, but found that I was decent at writing and analyzing books as well.
And then my younger brother started taking piano lessons and pretty much immediately surpassed me in his skill. And then he got into singing and got a lead in my senior musical that I finally got a part in. And he was super smart and was way better than me in English. And he was just generally more likable. I legitimately went from being (middle brother's) sister to being (younger brother's) sister in high school.
And I took AP Music Theory my junior year or high school and it simply did not click with me the way that it clicked with my friends.
And so singing, the one thing that I really felt that I had going for me, didn't feel good enough either.
And English, the other thing that I was pretty good at, wasn't either.
And I could tell you about how people always thought that I was good with kids, but then met my older brother that is fantastic with them.
Basically I have grown up feeling very much overshadowed by my siblings. And not only them, but my friends, classmates, and pretty much everyone else.
I remember commenting to a sister in our ward one day about how she seemed to be good at everything. She made some kind of comment about being a jack-of-all-trades, like that was a bad thing. But I realized in that moment that maybe I would never be the best at anything, but I would honestly have loved being a jack-of-all-trades because then I could help out in lots of different ways.
And this is where some of the other Madrigals come in for me. As much as I feel that I relate to Mirabel the most, there is definitely a dash of Louisa and and a pinch of Isabella in there for me. Mostly just a couple of the lines that they sing.
When Louisa sings "I'm pretty sure I'm worthless if I can't be of service", it hit me in the gut. And then when Isa sings "What could I do if I just knew it didn't need to be perfect? It just needed to be?"
Let's explore Isabella briefly first.
For as much as I have never felt great at anything, I have been a perfectionist. And, well, being a perfectionist while also feeling like nothing that I ever do is very good at all, let alone "good enough" is kind of the worst feeling in the world. Like I am incapable of not falling short.
Which, in turn, makes it really hard for me to become good at anything because I struggle to allow myself to do something badly at first. I could be a lot better at the piano than I am right now, but I would get so, so frustrated during practice when I kept making mistakes that I struggled to practice much at all.
I can't become a jack-of-all-trades if I don't, you know, learn any new trades. I tell myself that I don't have to be great at things, just good enough. But I have a hard time allowing myself to get to a "good enough" place without getting irritated and down on myself for not being better.
Now Louisa.
I have related to her the most I think during my mission and then after my ex was arrested (5 years ago yesterday. Isn't that crazy?).
I was constantly sick while I was on my mission, which then led me to constantly feel like I was letting everyone down. My companion, the members of the ward that I was serving in, all of the people in our area that I could have been bringing closer to Christ, and, you know, God Himself.
If I couldn't be out there serving the Lord, then what good was I?
And then when my ex was arrested, I was doing so poorly in so many different ways.
And yet, when I started opening up about my struggles, and especially when I first started this blog, I felt like I was genuinely helping people. People saw me as strong (even though I explicitly told them that I would spend way too much time laying on the floor staring at the ceiling) and even inspiring.
The tragedy of my life was all of a sudden an opportunity to make a real difference in people's lives, and I was pumped about that! I hated what happened to me, but I was so grateful to finally feel like I had something to contribute that maybe no one else could at the time.
But then, as time went on, I seemed to stop seeming strong and inspirational to people. At the beginning, it was impressive to people that I kept pressing forward despite not being able to work a regular job anymore because of my PTSD mixed with chronic illness. But when literal years have passed and that's still the case, it stops being praiseworthy and starts seeming pathetic.
Not that anyone has ever said that to me. But it's what my mind tells me every day.
You should be doing so much more. You should BE so much more.
My blog posts have become few and far between and get the smallest fraction of views that they used to.
I struggle greatly to sit and write them, even though I have ideas swirling around in my mind.
I often feel too weak to exist properly, let alone help anyone. And if I can't help anyone, then why do I exist anyway?
And my mind keeps telling me that I'm a terrible mother, that I'm not a good primary president, that I'm ruining my parents' and brother's lives by living with them in such inadequacy and being so needy. It tells me that I will never, ever be good enough. I will never be strong enough, smart enough, financially well off enough, to be a help to anyone, let alone my own family.
And I do my best to tell my mind to shove off. And I keep trying to slog forward, even though I feel like I've been falling behind for a long time now.
And Mirabel gives me hope that someday, my seemingly small and weak efforts will make all the difference to someone. And well, hopefully all the difference for me too.
This post isn't here to make you all pity me and tell me all of the great things that I know that you see in me that I struggle to see in myself. I guess it's just here to say, I suppose it is okay for me to "just be" sometimes. And I know deep down that I am helping people more than I realize. And that I do have intrinsic worth that isn't attached to my accomplishments (or lack thereof). And that trauma doesn't just disappear with a sudden poof of healing. I mean, Abuela is clearly still affected daily by the trauma of losing her Pedro and all of a sudden feeling responsible not only for herself and her infant triplets, but also- because of the miracle that she was given -the entire community of refugees. But even she is eventually able to recognize the weight that she has been unwittingly distributing to her loved ones.
And I hope that it doesn't take me 50 years to sort through my trauma, but maybe being aware that it is still affecting me so much is the first step.
Okay, honestly, I'm not really sure what the purpose of this post is at all.
I'll end with this though;
I hope that I can press forward with the determination of Mirabel. While she is obviously not perfect, she is such an incredible example to me of humility, empathy, and bravery. She doesn't let being "ordinary" stop her from giving her all to help support those that she loves. She takes what she does have- the ability to persevere no matter what -and rolls with it.
May we all be a little more like Mirabel. May we have the ability to take notice. To look around us and see behind the strength and talent and seeming perfection of others to see people who deserve love simply for being.
