When I delve into the snapshots of my girlhood — particularly of instrumental female heroines, one name in particular trails these memories like a shadow. Did you ever meet her? Her name is Sailor Moon, the secret identity of Serena Tsukino and leader of the Sailor Scouts. This fictional character influenced little me (and I suppose the resulting larger me) far more than I’d really care to admit, but there you have it. I’m admitting it.
If I reflect on why this is the case, I think it is simply because I personally found her relatable, especially in a media dominated world obsessed with some obscure, idea of perfection; a world that, sure enough, dripped into my child-scape via (often) unattainable commodities like the Disney Princesses and teen idols. Sailor Moon, on the other hand, was a “regular” girl, despite the whole fighting evil thing: she’s constantly late, eats like she hasn’t tasted food in a month, is almost clumsy to a fault, and petty. Yet Serena is also a loyal friend, honest, loving, determined, brave, and kind. And she kicks ass. So, like all of us, Sailor Moon has a medley of obvious flaws that, added to her general “goodness” make her more lovable, and to my childhood self at least, someone to admire.