Princess Leia was my keeper. Now, I’m hers

I GREW UP WITH THREE PARENTS: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. I guess Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom—technically family, but deep down I didn’t really like her. She literally and metaphorically lived on a planet I had never been to. When Leia was around, there wasn’t as much room for my mom—for Carrie. As a child, I couldn’t understand why people loved Leia as much as they did. I didn’t want to watch her movie, I didn’t want to dress up like her, I didn’t even want to talk about her. I just wanted my mom—the one who lived on Earth, not Tatooine.

I didn’t watch s until I was about 6 years old. (And I technically didn’t finish it until I was 9 or 10. I’m sorry! Don’t judge me!) My mom used to love to tell people that every time she tried to put it on, I would cover my ears and yell, “It’s too loud, Mommy! Turn it off!”—or fearfully question, “Is that lady in the TV you?” It wasn’t until middle school that I finally decided to watch it of my own accord—not because I suddenly developed a keen interest in ’70s sci-fi, but because boys started coming up to me