I was wondering to myself yesterday, why am I suddenly REALLY attached to this plot idea in Star Wars? I like Star Wars just fine, but it isn't "my" geek thing. What's this about? And I had an epiphany and then I needed to write it down.



I asked myself, why am I really into this idea of the character of Ben Solo? Why am I SO annoyed, even more so than previously, that we have Kylo Ren when we could have had Ben Solo? Which, I legit really like those flashes we get of Ben Solo: bits of Han Solo going "ouch" and failing, then this very competent Jedi full of feelings and barreling forward to do the right thing even if he is an idiot about it. I could see these fun bits and was like, I want that! Why didn't he get to bicker with Finn and Poe and maybe make a coherent plotline between him and Rey? I could have enjoyed THAT character's temptation to the dark side and his redemption.

And the fully formed thought went through my head that the transition of Kylo Ren back into Ben Solo I'm viewing as a metaphor of mental illness and mental health. That it is striking too close to home, reminding me of Gabe and the loss of his personality to "logic" in his own mental health struggle, and how I'm mad that I never got him back. I never got to be with the person I loved dearly most of my young life ever again, once he disappeared into his disorder, and wouldn't I have liked to have seen his real self one last time? Then I went, wow, self. Way to have a sudden realization while driving! Let's not crash!!

I really don't like the character of Kylo Ren. Besides the toxic masculinity, it's the nihilist "logic" that the character represents. I remember those same arguments being used on me, and it all just makes me twitch internally. I hate it, the character, the reasoning why we have to have that kind of journey, etc. And now that makes sense to me, this really firm "nopenopeNOPENOPE" reaction I get.

So now I'm going to write lots of fic for at least myself, throwing Kylo Ren out with the bathwater. But at least I know WHY I have that deep, sudden urge. I learned a thing about myself!

You'd think by 35, I'd have a pretty good handle on the emotional trauma and grief from when I was 22. I would like to think! But my brain is like, naw, bitch, don't worry! I've still PLENTY of shit to throw at you until we're dead! HAPPY HOLIDAYS.